Decept

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by Irony, Nov 13, 2008.

  1. Irony

    Irony fangirl

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    For all those who feel or ever felt lost. For all those who wish some backup. For all those who remember G1 Barricade. For you. A Bayformers story, enjoy!
     
  2. Irony

    Irony fangirl

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    Decept

    -Daddy? Why did Uncle Bernie say even a crocodile has friends?
    The engineer couldn’t guess.
    -By the way, it is true. They really have friends. Gulls and this kind of birds. They can fly straight into the croc’s mouth and still no harm comes to them.
    -Wow! Are they such good friends? – the young boy stared. The engineer looked around: how can he think about biology in the middle of a Formula One pit lane?
    -And together they can perform better. Have you ever seen a croc washing his teeth?
    The boy really had to make up his mind. He’d seen so many crocs in so many cartoons, but none of them has ever washed his teeth.
    -Never – he answered after a while.
    -That’s because the gulls remove all the dirt from their mouth.
    The boy’s eyes opened wide. His father went on explaining: -It is so. Without the gulls no crocodile would have a tooth anymore. But with a good friend’s help, you can solve anything.
    The child looked deep at his father, with the strange look that might see the very depth of a racing car.
    -What’s true of all you said?
    The engineer considered. Well, he had to simplify some parts, but he didn’t want to talk about bacteria and the flora of the mouth.
    -Well…. maybe they would have a few teeth left, but not many –he answered.

    -Bonecrusher, can you hear me?
    -No but I can read your mouth – the answer was as irate as always. –What happened?
    -You lost your head. And for now…. There’s only the two of us.
    The brown Decepticon moved his neck while listening to his partner talking about the reinforcement that will arrive someday. Until that, they have to survive.
    After their highway rodeo with Prime, after wrecking a few cars and a bridge, Bonecrusher was not even suprised to see vehicles coming to repair or remove. He scanned one of these, hoping he won’t have to hide in this disguise for long.
    Barricade was exactly what he looked like: a miserable wreck rolling away from Mission City. He gave real police cars a wide berth, literally escaped a real Saleen. And tried to remember. Frenzy found the Allspark, called for them, then Bonecrusher spotted Optimus Prime coming and attacked. He tried to keep close to them, possibly he also made a dash at the Autobot leader, but then the next thing he remembered was lying against a ferroconcrete wall with almost no component left intact. He counted his injuries once more, but it only worsened his mood. Of course, he had already hit walls before, but then he didn’t have to escape anyone, put other Decepticon’s head back, or face the death of all the others. He was always rebuilt in a few hours…. Yes he can still count on that, if he can make it to Indianapolis. Broken, exhausted, defeated without even being there…. But his will to fight on was not yet gone. He could usually keep two or three wheels under himself, and the self-repair mechanisms were more or less functional. He kidded himself with not even missing the race.

    The team principal was watching his people packing. Celebration ended, the spectators have left hours ago, the boxes were emptied. Some were chatting about the destruction on the other side of the States, and everyone seemed to think they know something.
    He didn’t say a word. He didn’t feel like talking, he knew too much. To keep his mind off his problems he started walking the track like his drivers do before the qualifications. He sat down at a left turn, watching the oil drying off from the track. He had pins and needles in his head, he felt he has to tell somebody, tell them he knows everything, or at least surely more than Sector Seven might ever dream of. Of course he denied. He didn’t want to start explaining vehicles transforming into huge robots, and those who would have believed him were not worthy being told. He felt lonely with his knowledge, until he spotted the Saleen Mustang approaching.
    The street car seemed to feel at home on the race track. He recognised him for his self-assured behavior anytime, anywhere, in any form. He ran towards the police car, then stood riveted to the earth when he saw his condition.
    -Barricade….
    The bumpers were half transformed, he could see the jagged , broken weaponry. The suspension of his left fore looked tragic, the left hind was slaloming somewhere behind the exhaust-pipe. His right side didn’t seem better: the door was missing, its empty place was shattered, creased.
    Otherwise the team principal would have sat into his ambiguous-origined racer without fear, but now he just grabbed the radio and told his engineers to unpack their tools immediately and prepare for the most severe case of their lives.
    -What happened? –he asked while they were approaching the pit entry. He was suprised the Mustang was able to keep up with him, despite he had years to experience his endurance.
    -That wall was not rubber….
    The team principal nodded. He might learn more later, and he was happy to be told at least this. He tried to cheer the car up and warned him not to go faster then allowed in the pit lane. He considered the metallic rattle as an answer.
    Barricade looked the engineers up and down before letting them touch his wrecked body. He knew most of them, and in fact even liked some. He trusted them since he had no other option.
    Their skilful, fast movements calmed him down, slowly he felt being in the right place. He could smell the champagne, this brought up several memories. He was left out of the defeat in Mission City. Victory was waiting for him somewhere else. Where he wouldn’t have to face a truck or chase a piece of glass. Megatron was killed, Starscream escaped, Frenzy died…. But his team was here. Repaired him like a dozen times before, and when he could finally transform, they changed his tyres for dry-weather racing tyres, refuelled him and filled his oil-tank, checked if it’s not leaking. Then stepped back so that he could perform at least a few laps on the race track. It felt rather familiar to him, despite the circuit was partly rebuilt after he left Formula One a few years ago. His technical director informed him about the rule changes and fresh pit-lane gossips. His crew cheered with him after every well-performed sector, and cheered him up when he lost adhesion and spinned around. One of them compared his movement to a famous ice-dancer’s, the other calmly informed him who and when had performed the very same mistake in the very same corner. The technical director measured his time just as during the Friday free practices, informed him where he lost a few milliseconds.
    By the time Sector Seven arrived, he felt like a normal Formula One racing car again. He didn’t show much attention, since he knew what was coming. The agents have measured an enormous radioactivity, the engineers explained that’s because of the special tools they use, and offered to lend a set of fire-proof suit they had to wear. The agents refused to borrow, they rather checked the only car still rolling on the race track. Barricade didn’t even smile at them: he wouldn’t use a Cybertronian power equipment as long as he wants to keep his superlicense. The V8 he was allowed to use proved comfortamble, reliable and free of any radioactivity.
    As the Sector Seven agents left, he rolled back to the pit. He cried out a Decepticon boast for the last time, then transformed and asked when might he meet his new driver.
     
  3. Irony

    Irony fangirl

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    (any comments welcome)
     
  4. Defenestrator

    Defenestrator Definitive Opinion

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    Nice man, way to get inside ol' Barry's head
     

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