A/N: Hey all. Sorry for the delay. Just got back from the Caribbean with my hubby. This chapter is a little rehash of what you all ready know, but I wrote it anyways to get in some character development and move the plot along. As I said before, I get in no hurry during storytime.

Chapter Six: A Little Heart to Spark

"Miller. We have a contact," A young agent shouted excitedly from his monitor in the control room.

"Can you get an identification?" barked Miller, the thought of picking up the Collin's girl trail quickening his blood.

"Affirmative. It appears to be NBE Two…Give me one moment and I'll be able to pull its profile," the agent replied. A short pause later and, "Ah, here it is. NBE Two designates itself as Barricade. It favors the Saleen Mustang S281 police interceptor as its disguise," the agent finished quickly, then turned around in his chair and faced his superior.

"What is his location?"

"Approximately 20 miles north of Mission City, Nevada, heading due south."

"Perfect. Dispatch Bravo team. I want reconnaissance first; let it lead us to the rest of them. Under no circumstances are they to engage," Miller directed. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. Redemption was at hand.


Barricade sat on a side street, seemingly watching all the squishies go about their daily business. This is good, he chuckled to himself, just fraggin' perfect. He had just received a transmission from Starscream updating him on the "current situation" with the human. Well, at least now, the mission made a little more sense. But even he found it more than a little peculiar that the femme's own species would try and eliminate her, then turn around and declare to the world she killed herself. Then again, since being on this rotten mud ball of a planet nothing humans did made sense anyway.

He had completed the mission easily enough (thank Primus Hook built one hell of a holomatter generator before he left Cybertron) and was preparing to depart back to base, when he caught sight of something out of the ordinary. A black SUV had pulled onto the street and sat approximately 100 yards from his location. Ordinarily, Barricade would have ignored the humans, but there is something about a pair of binoculars focused in your direction that makes you suspicious. Never one to take chances (especially when working undercover) Barricade decided to give the humans a little test.

Double checking his holomatter projection, he engaged his drivetrain and pulled smoothly into traffic. For a few astroseconds, no large, black SUV appeared in his rearview mirror. Maybe I'm glitching in my CPU, he thought irritably to himself, besides why concern himself if humans were tailing him? They could be dealt with easily enough.

Several right turns and a handful of lefts later found the interceptor cruising a busy thoroughfare. Not even six seconds later, the black SUV followed. Must be using a scanner of some sort since they are not relying on a visual, Barricade mused. Then the Saleen chuckled to himself. Looks like I get to have a little fun, after all! With that last thought, the Decepticon revved his engine in anticipation, eagerly planning out his little fun session with the humans.


Slowly, reluctantly, Dezba opened her eyes to the blindingly bright light of the Decepticon med bay. The first few thoughts that entered her mind were looks like I'm not in Kansas, anymore. She silently laughed to herself, visualizing Dorothy waking up in her predicament. However, the slight laugh brought to the forefront the pain around her ribcage, and everything else she had tried desperately to forget in the blackness of unconsciousness. Carefully, using her one good arm, she sat up and began taking in everything around her.

She sat on a very large metal table, realizing with a start she wasn't exactly decent. Some clothing lay next to her and she quickly slipped into the old army fatigues. This feels familiar, she mused to herself while simultaneously taking in her surroundings. Around her various tools held a resemblance to some she had seen in her garage back home, but on the same token had that alien look to them. Where in the world did that giant trashcan take me? She puzzled over her situation, dredging up remnants of her last conversation with the talking jet.

Hiss.

Dezba jumped slightly as the large sliding doors opened, permitting the devil of her thoughts to enter. Oooh. Bad reaction, Collins, she scolded herself, as another wave of pain constricted her breathing. Thundercracker stood in the doorway, a hard, penetrating look in his ruby optics.

Dezba felt a slight tremor run down her spine; this was the first time she had seen her dark savior in the light. And it was a terrible, yet beautiful sight to behold. The lighting glinted off the Seeker's armor, revealing it to be a deep shade of cobalt; it was so blue it almost appeared to be black. The way it shone in the light, a flickering blue-black, reminded Dezba of an iridescent paint job she had seen on a sports car at one time. Two large wings donned the shoulders, making the robotic being appear even more massive than he was. On the margin of the wings, she could see a strip of vibrant red and a strange purple emblem centered on each. On either sides of his neck were two large air intakes; with a start she realized she had been riding in an F-15E Strike Eagle; the rest of her observation confirmed it. Before her father had died in combat, she remembered spending hours watching the military jets perform their training exercises. Dezba knew each and every type of active duty aircraft and the F-15 was no exception. From the cockpit, which made up the chest, the robot's torso narrowed slightly, leading into legs that were thick, long and powerful. His feet were broad and bird-like, with three digits pointing forwards and one pointing slightly back.

The alien before her resonated of power and danger and not all of it had to do with his size. He walked into the room, ensuring that the doors closed behind him. Each step sent small reverberations throughout the table she sat upon. They stared at one another, each taking in the other's appearance, drawing conclusions, determining strengths and weaknesses.

The human was the first to break eye contact, quickly glancing down and away to stare at the pattern on her fatigues. Thundercracker suppressed a grin; she was bold, but also knew when to back down.

"What do you want?" Dezba asked, a sullen undertone in her voice.

"Information, fleshy," came the deep, rumbling reply. She cringed upon hearing his metallic voice. It was so unnatural, so alien yet here they were holding a conversation as if they were in the local coffee shop discussing business matters.

"Don't I get the chance to exercise my fifth amendment?" she joked half-heartedly, being mindful of her healing ribs.

"Hmmph. Your pathetic laws have no bearing on me, human," the blue jet responded haughtily. He gazed down on her, scorn and disgust seen clearly in his optics.

"Well hey, you know it was worth a shot," she replied. She turned her head slightly and gave the Con a sidelong glance. "What is it you want to know? I'm not sure if there is a whole lot I can tell you."

"I will be the judge of that, flesh crea…" Without warning the tiny human suddenly launched into a tirade that would have cowed the Unmaker himself.

"What is with you calling me flesh creature?! Or fleshy, or any other name besides the one you know I have! You know my name, so use it, damn it!" Instantly, she clamped her good hand over her mouth and turned away with a whirl of black trusses. She ignored the flash of pain in her chest. Way to go, dumbass, she cursed herself. She sneaked a look at the Decepticon, dreading what his reaction would be.

At first, the Decepticon just continued to glare at her and then his optics narrowed to mere slits. He kneeled down beside the table, the whirring and clicking of gears the only sound in the small med bay. "You have a large mouth for one so small," Thundercracker sneered. He placed his elbows on the table and laced his clawed fingers together. He then rested his broad, metallic forearms on either side of the girl, in effect boxing her in. It really wasn't a necessary move; but he just wanted to subtly emphasize his position in these proceedings.

Dezba flinched as the massive arms of the alien rested on either side of her. She glanced at one then other as if to confirm she really was trapped. Then again, it wasn't as if she could just up and run anyway; he was making a point, namely the I-am-in-control-and-there-is-nothing-you-can-do-about-it kind of point. Slowly, so as not to jar her injuries any more than necessary, she turned back around and faced him fully. She stared morosely at her fatigues, wondering just when the nightmare would end.

"Now then, Collins," Thundercracker began, sarcasm dripping off her name, "tell me exactly what happened that led up to our meeting in the desert." He leaned down closer, until his faceplates were inches from her.

Dezba imagined that she could feel the heat radiating from his gaze, but she hardened her resolve, straightened her back and met the Con's stare with her own. Slowly she recounted everything that she remembered that happened that dreadful evening, from the raid, to her and her parent's separation, to the order given for her murder, and to the horrible car ride she endured with the underlings Dan and Jake.

When she had finished, Thundercracker's intense stare did not lessen; he continued to look at her as if she were still speaking. Slowly, he pulled away from his proximity to the human and brought a clawed finger to rest on his chin as if deep in thought.

"Do you know why they wanted me killed? Or why they attacked us in the first place?" She queried after several moments of quiet.

"Silence!" The blue jet snapped, causing Dezba to shrink back in fear, all her previous courage evaporated.

The girl's story certainly complicated matters. Did they know she could speak Cybertronian and therefore wanted to eliminate her as a threat to the human race? No, that didn't make sense. Using her as a tool against his kind would be more logical. But once again, why kill her? She had said the two humans he had killed were shocked at her outburst. Was this just another random act of human cruelty? No. According to her account, the humans were well organized and seemed to be following orders. Then there was the little issue Skywarp uncovered. Even though she wasn't killed that night the human's local news network had announced her death as a suicide as a result of her mother's car accident. Things weren't adding up. Dezba had said her parents were taken away by the attackers. And what about his little memory mix-up—where did that fit in with all this?

Several long moments passed as Thundercracker wrestled with this complicated conundrum. A slight movement caught his attention. He glanced over to where the human had settled herself closer to his other forearm; she seemed to be preoccupying herself with studying the intricacies in his armor. The slight break in concentration reminded him of his one other question he wanted to ask.

"Do you recognize this human?" Thundercracker asked suddenly, projecting a hologram of the individual that was within the strange memory.

The sudden question caused Dezba to jump slightly. "What?"

The Seeker growled loudly and repeated the question. "Do you recognize this human?!"

Dezba stared open-mouthed at the projection in front of her. Tenderly, she stood and walked toward it as if in a trance. "Yes," she whispered. "That is my mother. But how? How did you…?" She trailed off, lost for words.

"I will show you," came the short reply. With that, Thundercracker projected the memory onto the table top, replaying everything he had seen. Dezba stared in awe as the projection showed her and her mother conversing amiably beside the river at their home. It was the last conversation she had had with her mother, one-on-one, before the raid on their household. The memory played across the table like a 3-D movie; it was exactly how she herself remembered it.

"I don't understand," she moaned. "How did you do that? Were you like spying on us or something?" Anger tinged her voice, as she struggled with what she had just seen. At this time, Dezba felt a whirlpool mixture of emotions rushing through her veins. First she had felt fear, then determination. Now she felt confused and angry. Was there something this sentient toaster oven wasn't telling her? Did he know why she was marked for dead?

Thundercracker approximated the robotic equivalent of a snort. "Hardly, fleshy. I usually don't make it a habit to spy on worthless pieces of organic matter." He watched her bristle at the use of the derogatory name, and was pleased at her reaction. He continued. "When I picked you up after you went into stasis back in the desert, your body shocked me." A look of utter confusion crossed her features. Rolling his optics, he elaborated. "I felt a jolt pass through my processors, much like when you humans feel a shock from touching low voltage electric wires. I didn't really think it was important at the time, but after I brought you her that image appeared in my memory processing core. A feat that is next to impossible without my consent."

Dezba quickly forgot her anger as she tried to process all that the alien had told her. She furrowed her brow in concentration and held the bridge of her nose with her left hand. "Are you trying to tell me that I like…I don't know…like somehow downloaded one of my memories to you?"

"Affirmative." He nodded his helm one time.

"But that's crazy! That stuff only happens in science fiction movies! I can't do that kind of stuff, can I?" She stopped her raving and pacing and looked back up at the blue Con.

"I don't know how you did it, but the fact is you did. I never knew you existed until two days ago," He paused and narrowed his optics. "But I believe it is somehow related to your speaking of Cybertronian." He stood up then, and began to slowly pace around the med bay, stretching joints and actuators that had been in the position for too long. His cobalt armor glimmered under the lighting with each fluid movement.

"You think so?"

Thundercracker nodded again. In his processor he was debating whether or not to tell her about her supposed suicide. It was a sensitive piece of information; he opted to withhold it for now. "Yes, I do but I have yet to make the connection." He walked back over to the door, entered the code and waited for it open with another hiss. "As for why those other humans wanted you dead, maybe it's because you talk too much," he smirked.

As he predicted, Dezba rose to the bait. "Why you over-grown walking trash compactor! If I could I'd use your wings as surf boards, you over-bearing, egotistical, arrogant, chauvinistic son of a…"

"Get some recharge, Dezba. Commander Starscream will speak to you within six cycles. And don't mention our little talk to him or else." With that, Thundercracker closed the door behind him and left the dumb-struck human still standing on the table, mouth agape.

She stared after him, shock rooting her in place. He said my name. He called me by my name, that bastard!

A/N, PS: Stick around for the next chapter to see 'Cade taking names and kickin' ass! Don't forget to leave a review on your way out. Many thanks!