On the Freedom Of Existence
Chapter Seven
A/N: The rumours detailed here (and in the next chapter) were thought up by both myself and my beta, Anne Clothier on this site, in a think-session one night. If you want to use them for any stories, please do, but credit us and let me know so we can read the stories!
Tracing and locating the signal's current origin was simple, especially when Prowl saw the flaming meteor flash across the sky. He put on a burst of speed as it landed, and when he got to the crater, the protoform that had landed was just finishing unfolding from travel-configuration.
Prowl had learned from the Barricade-memories that Salvage had been alive and fully-functioning when he had last seen him, and it seemed that he had managed to reach Earth unscathed.
The silvery bipedal form in the crater sensed his presence, looking up, and gave a relieved smile.
"Barricade. You made it." Salvage said. He reached up a hand. Prowl took a firm grip, and helped Salvage out of the crater he had created in the soft earth of his landing spot.
"Salvage." Prowl acknowledged. "You will require an alternative disguise form. Come, the road is quite close by; I shall take you to it to acquire a disguise. Then I would like to show you something, teach you something, and then I'll call someone else to escort us to Base."
Prowl led Salvage to the road, and waited while the protoform viewed each passing vehicle with disdain.
"None of them are armed!" Salvage said in disgust. "How do they defend themselves?"
"This planet is enjoying a period of nil conflict on the continent we are on." Prowl informed him. "Military vehicles do exist, but would look out of place on a civilian road, so would not do well as a disguise-form. You can rely on your own in-built weaponry for defence. I suggest you just scan something suitable. If we stand here for much longer, you, at least, will be seen." he suggested.
Salvage quickly scanned a vehicle with suitable mass: a Jeep, a fact that pleased Prowl, for this fitted in nicely with his plans. Resuming bipedal form, the two moved away from the road, into the reasonably- deserted fields around.
"You said you had something to show me and teach me." Salvage said. "Well, show me then."
"Yes, I guess here is as good a place as any." Prowl said. He leaned forwards and tapped a piece of Salvage's plating. "Yes, that is reasonable armour. You chose a good form to take."
"I guess it does." said Salvage. "What's this all about, Barricade? I know about gaining good armour, so what is it you wish to teach me?"
"A lesson." Prowl said. "At least this time, it'll be a fair fight."
Before Salvage had time to process Prowl's words and work out their meaning, Prowl had sprung for the larger mech, his weight and momentum bearing Salvage to the ground, his clawed hands reaching for the other's wrists.
Salvage hit the ground, landing on his back with a thud. Salvage massed greater than Prowl, but Prowl had the advantage of surprise. His hydraulic hands locked themselves around Salvage's wrists.
"Barricade, what are you doing?" cried the other.
Prowl gazed fiercely into the other's optics.
"The name is Prowl." He stated. Salvage's eyes widened.
"You – remember?" he asked. "How?" Prowl ignored the question.
"You changed me, Salvage, and hurt me." He stated with a savage snarl. "Now, reap the fruits of your labour."
As Prowl released his grip on one of Salvage's wrists, Salvage took him by surprise, pushing up at him with a speed that Prowl had not realised he possessed. As he landed on his side, one hand still fastened around Salvage's wrist, he belatedly accessed the Barricade- memories to find that he had underestimated Salvage: Salvage had taught 'Barricade' his own frighteningly savage battle style.
Salvage fought to rise, reaching his free hand towards the hand still gripping his left wrist. Prowl released the wrist and rolled to his feet, now fully battle-alert, noting that his grip had crimped the metal of Salvage's left wrist in a way that, although it did not seem to impede its movement, must have made movement painful.
As Salvage lunged for him again, Prowl found himself backing off, on the defensive, and thus at a disadvantage. As Salvage extended his back-of-hand blades and slashed, Prowl dodged and ducked. He narrowly avoided first a slash, and then a grab.
"You wonder why I changed you, Autobot?" he sneered. "It's because you are so weak! When I changed you, I did you a favour! Come, give in, and surrender to me, and I'll just turn you back into Barricade, rather than killing you."
'Slag!' thought Prowl. 'I am out of practice!' He dodged again, wishing he'd thought this out before revealing that he was no longer Barricade. He tried to think tactically as he dodged and jumped back, tried to concentrate on finding and exploiting Salvage's weaknesses. He dipped back into the Barricade-memories, both to access 'Barricade's' own fighting style and in the hope that 'Barricade' might have seen Salvage's weak points.
He had spotted two when instinct kicked in – not his own instinct, but the echo of the Barricade-personality. Prowl suddenly realised by the feelings of rage and excitement that flooded through him, that 'Barricade' had taken combat personally, and enjoyed it.
As the rage took hold, he was part-Prowl and part-Barricade, and he lashed at Salvage with his extendable spinning-blade saw. Salvage was hit full-on by it, staggering back in surprise and looking at the shallow but nasty-looking lacerations on his chest-plating. Prowl snarled, lunging forwards to grab Salvage around his waist. Hydraulic joints took the strain as Prowl lifted the bigger mech off the ground, lifted him almost over his head, and then threw him with as much force as he could muster into the ground. His own rage had now joined and augmented the echo from the Barricade personality, and he was able to take that rage and direct it.
Stunned at the unexpected retaliation, Salvage belatedly tried to roll out of the way as Prowl lunged at him again, but he was not quick enough: Prowl's clawed fingers impacted on Salvage's chest as he rolled, and Salvage cried out as the motion turned holes into gashes.
Prowl grabbed Salvage's left wrist with his right hand and squeezed, feeling the already crumpled metal buckle further, and Salvage cried out in pain again as the hand flopped uselessly. The bigger mech whimpered and stared up at Prowl with fear-filled optics as the black and white mech transferred the grip of both hands back to Salvage's waist and began to squeeze.
Crushing the metal of Salvage's waist took more pressure than had been needed to disable one of his hands, but it, too, began to bend and buckle: by now, Salvage could only make an agonised keen of pain. Turning Salvage over roughly, Prowl snarled as he brought his claws down hard on Salvage's back, puncturing the hide and drawing them down to carve twin sets of slashes down Salvage's back. Tortured sounds issued from both the stressed metal and Salvage's vocal processor. However, Prowl had not yet finished.
Prowl flipped the mech over again almost disdainfully with one foot as he sent a databurst back the way he had come. The action forced a series of whimpers from Salvage as coolant and energon seeped from the wounds Prowl had inflicted. Paying the fluids no heed, Prowl straddled the mech's waist, settling his aft firmly on Salvage's abdomen, and then almost casually reached over to catch up Salvage's right wrist in his left hand, and crush it, rendering Salvage's hands – and the melee-combat blades on the back surfaces of them – useless. Prowl leaned forwards to speak to Salvage, but the mech was not as far gone in pain as Prowl had thought, and snapped at Prowl with his sharp teeth.
Prowl sighed, and moved his hands up to clasp Salvage's head between them, stopping the head from moving. Once again exerting pressure, Prowl began slowly squeezing Salvage's head with his powerful fingers and hands, feeling metal begin to stretch and plating start to pop apart at the seams.
"Please….mercy…..stop…..please…." Salvage whimpered weakly. Prowl let out an animal-like snarl, not releasing his grip but not exerting any more force as he brought his face closer to Salvage's own. Salvage's pain-filled optics widened in fear, and he let out another wordless whimper, this one of terror.
"Isn't this what you wanted of me, Salvage?" Prowl whispered savagely. "A warrior without conscience, without compassion, without mercy, without fear? Somebody who would take delight in gaining trust – and then betraying it in the cruellest way possible?" he hissed angrily. "You remodelled me and reprogrammed me, Salvage, turned me into a vicious killer." His voice turned mocking. "Don't you like what you created, Salvage? You don't like it so much when what you created is turned upon you, do you? If you create a killer, do you not expect it to carry out its primary purpose?"
Prowl saw despair join the pain and fear in Salvage's optics, and turned away in disgust. He released Salvage's now dented head from his grasp.
"I'm not what you made me any more though, Salvage, although I do possess the memories from when I was. I'm not a natural killer, which is fortunate for you, I'm not a Decepticon without a conscience or a care for the feelings and opinions of others. I'm an Autobot, and I'm not going to kill you in the name of revenge."
As he finished speaking, Ratchet, Mirage, and Jazz came into sight, optics widening at the sight of the mangled mech Prowl was straddling. Prowl got up, stepping away from Salvage, as Ratchet activated a powerful light, training it on the injured mech.
"As promised, Salvage, here is our escort to Base – the Autobot base, that is." he said, stepping further back as Ratchet bent to examine the almost-fragged mech. "Ratchet, Mirage, he's all yours."
"Mirage, we need to turn him. carefully now, this will hurt no matter how we do it, but carefully is best." Ratchet stated as Mirage bent by Salvage's legs. Salvage began to shake and whimper again as the two put gentle hands on him to carefully roll him onto his front.
Prowl was careful to hide the smirk that crept on his face: Salvage believed the rumours, not only the ones about Ratchet, but all the others that related to the Autobots – including Mirage's undeserved reputation as a stealer of his enemies' Sparks.
Prowl was Autobot enough not to kill for revenge, but not so virtuous that he wouldn't find another way to take it.
