[Audio] [Transmission from: Solian Temple] - Twelfth Offense

[namesnotprowl]

[The audio starts up out of the blue, with only a brief pause at the beginning. Even so, every word seems deliberate and carefully chosen.]

Sorry about the timin'a this, but... I've been thinkin' a lot lately. Dangerous habit, I know.

This is the third multidimensional hub I've been in. I've gotten ripped out of dimensions more than I can explain. I've gone backwards in time twice... forwards once. Turned into a human and a cat. Heh, got haiku-powered jet boosters for a while. I rebuilt my own legs from scratch. I've had my processor picked over more times than I'd like. I've lost more friends than I ever wanted to... and made a few more than I've expected. Including a few that were too stubborn to give up on me when they should have. I've seen how how our wars start... and I've seen them end.

And the one ending was enough. Three hubs has been too much, and I'm too old. I know too much that would compromise this Cybertron's chance at having its own future.

I can't stay.

I have a few things to finish up, still, but in a week... I'm leaving. I've heard rumors of a place in the Outlands that could use someone like me, and I've dug out the clues I need to get there.

I'll be contacting a few of you individually; this is what the humans call the Season of Giving, and I have things to give you. Call them parting gifts if you will.

{{Individuals on this list will be getting special presents as listed, though if Barricade is so much as a passing acquaintance of his you can expect a few cubes of high grade left outside your door (or a six-pack of beer if you're human).))

Comments

[perfavore]

[Mirage's hands freeze when they take the stick in his fingers, eyes shooting up at Barricade, as if to say 'Are you serious?'. They search those four optics for anything, some kind of explanation. Why give this to him? No...

Why give this to him now?

His wings flutter, his plating shivering with it. Why couldn't he just...accept it like this?]

What am I to do with this?

[The answer was obvious, but that wasn't really the question he was asking. His body language said something completely different--

Why did you write this?]

[namesnotprowl]

I leave that decision up to you. You have the right to choose.

But I'd hope. That you use it to stop us from making the biggest mistake we've ever made.

[He shouldn't try to change the timeline. Even by proxy. He knows he shouldn't... but Cybertron didn't deserve what was going to happen to it. Surely there was some way to stop it.

He flicks his wings down slightly, and looks down himself.]

I. Never told anyone. The one person I would have never asked and I'm grateful for that.

But you ought to know. You... deserve it.

And if nothing else I write thorough reports and it needed to be written. There has to be a record of what happened. Maybe that's just Alpha Trion rubbing off on me.

[perfavore]

[Mirage's hands grasp the stick tighter at that information, wings folded down as if...frightened. His decision?

That was a lot of power, especially for someone reserved to stay off the battlefield when necessary. Stealth Ops didn't make decisions like that. Heck, Ironhide didn't make decisions like that.

It'd be tough. Probably impossible. But Barricade was giving him the tools he needed to do that.]

Will it fix the war? You realize most Decepticons are too fargone.

[Was Barricade hoping for salvation with this? Was that why?]


You are difficult to read sometimes...

[namesnotprowl]

[He knows it's a lot of power... and that much can be frightening. Heck, he's felt that way about this decision. This could change everything, and in what way he doesn't know. Mirage could use it for anything.

But Barricade has his stupid hopes. That something might turn out right, for once. That maybe he can stop one bad thing from happening in one iteration of his home dimension.]

I can't say it'll fix the war. But the Decepticons... more of them just wanna go home than you might think.

But for that, they need a home to go back to. Because Earth will never be home, not to them.

[He hesitates a moment... and puts one clawed hand on Mirage's shoulder.]

Your human friends blew my legs off. I'm dead back there, and you are the only one I can trust to set things right.
Someone has to stop the destruction before we destroy everything that matters, Mirage.

[perfavore]

[His gaze immediately turns to the hand on his shoulder, as if shocked. He shouldn't be--Barricade's done it before...but maybe it's because of the shock from all this. He was holding something that could change the future. And a Decepticon gave it to him.

Set aside pride for this.

His wings shiver, unable to fully grasp this just yet. How was he going to stop it when he was in the position he was in? What could be done?]

You always do this. You throw the curved ball in my direction.

...

Why are you so complex, polizia.

[namesnotprowl]

Wouldn't throw them if I didn't think you'd knock it out of the park.

[Besides. Shockwave was too loyal to Megatron to consider their planet, and Sideswipe... Sideswipe would have thrown it back in his face. Even if their Ratchet was around Barricade was certain he'd be no help.

The old guard couldn't be trusted. On either side.

Besides. It was time for the younger generation to step up, and for that he'd leave the tools and get out of the way.

He flicks his wings down and shrugs after a moment, the wheels in his pauldrons twitching.]

Places like this change a mech. Especially when you've been through as many as I have. You sort out your priorities.

Which I suppose is where this other datastick comes in.

[He offers it.]

I can't tell you the contents of this one. That's something you'll have to figure out for yourself.

[perfavore]

[It quiets him again, more out of...sheer embarrassment than anything. It took a lot to get Mirage silenced, even from one-word quips. And Barricade had done just that. His eyes glance up at him now and again, quickly avoiding making contact.

Why did he always DO this?]

So I'm beginning to notice about myself.

[But the other datastick is offered, and, like the first one, he acts as if it's a complete surprise. Perhaps it is, given Barricade's cryptic description of it.]

How do you not know, polizia? Surely you wrote it.

[namesnotprowl]

Careful; you might just surprise yourself with how things changed, someday. Primus knows I have.

[Just looking how that other him ended up... he would be that, if not for all this nonsense to straighten him out.

His engine chuffs quietly and he shakes his head a little.]

I know what I wrote... Said. It's said on that one. But how it's interpreted is up to you.
I don't just give out the answers. That would be too easy.

[But he'll give Mirage a metaphorical push.]

[perfavore]

...

It would be infinitely more helpful.

[The next movement he couldn't have stopped if he tried. He inches forward, in one quick strike. Grabbing Barricade's wrists to hold them down. Being quick was Mirage's specialty, and had this been on a battlefield, he'd have Barricade pinned.

But this wasn't, and maybe Mirage HAD changed after all. His helm dips forward, pressing itself to Barricade's left cheek.

Giving a soft puff of air before quickly pulling away.]

[namesnotprowl]

But not half as fun~...!

[That. Is not what Barricade is expecting at all. His automatic instinct when grabbed is to fight back, claws twitching as he forces himself to hold still. Mirage isn't going to hurt him; if that was going to happen it would have happened already.

Which is a strange thought in itself. Being able to trust an enemy won't harm him. Things have changed.

His plating twitches a little, surprised or startled by Mirage's closeness. It translates into a full-on wing flick and his optics shuttering - all four at once, not his usual creepy-inducing paired sets.

Mirage, did you just...?]

[perfavore]

[And as quickly as he'd performed the action, he pulled away, tucking the data sticks into a spare slot in his armor. He doesn't dare look up at him at this point, either out of embarrassment or shyness.

It was a rare trait for him.]

I'll take care of them.


[This information had to be protected. After Barricade left there'd be only two from their world in the Haven including him.]

[namesnotprowl]

[It takes a few moments but Barricade settles his plating down and regains a little composure. Enough to notice that Mirage is being surprisingly shy about what just happened.]

You's better. I'm counting on you, you know.

[He pauses a moment, considering, then practically bounds this distance between them to wrap his arms around Mirage. He shifts to put himself in range of the other mech's audio receptor, lips brushing the plating as he speaks quietly, tone almost... Worried? Desperate?]

And be careful about Chromedome; mechs that poke in folks' processors don't give that up. Don't end up as someone's data sink.

[Don't end up like me.
He pulls back himself at that point.]

[perfavore]

[Mirage was ready to leave it at that, at the final piece of closeness he could have with his mentor's killer. It was easier this way, for the both of them.

I'm counting on you.

That's not something he expected to hear, for sure. Even more so when he feels the box-like arms of the police car wrap around him. Like Barricade, he wanted to struggle, only knowing in the back of his mind that this wasn't meant to harm.

The whisper is strange, as he tilts in to hear. His eyes shutter at the name, wings slightly flicking.]

Polizia...

[namesnotprowl]

[Barricade could have left it at that. That confusing, pleasant intimacy... but he knew at the same time that he couldn't. He couldn't just walk away, worrying about things as he was, not without trying to give a few people some warning.

Not so long ago, he wouldn't have bothered trying to tell Mirage. They were supposed to be enemies. It used to be so much simpler.

Barricade shakes his head slightly, plating twitching oddly.]

I don't want you to get hurt. I can't explain; call it personal experience. Just trust me. Don't take chances.

[perfavore]

I won't. Not unnecessary ones.

[Simpler. That was the perfect summation of what it was. ]

The next time I see you it won't be you, polizia.

[It's soft, as his plating shifts. It's starting to sink in just what this is going to do.]

[namesnotprowl]

Good. Good.

[Someone's processor ought to leave intact, and if there was some better way to make sure he'd do that.]

No. It won't be.

[A fact that Barricade has pondered, from time to time. And he's not entirely sure what to say here. His shoulders sag a little as he thinks.]

If you see him, after all is said and done... you'll have two choices. Kill him and send him back to Frenzy - and if he's anything like me he'll be grateful for it - or take him back with the Autobots for you and yours to deal with.

If you do neither... he's likely to show up again. As that thing that I was, when the Pillar dropped. And he will destroy the Autobots down to the last before he's finished.