Sky and Ground

Almost done. One chapter after this--epilogue. :c

Thanks for reading!



Starscream had told them to expect a spectacle. That Megatron’s tastes for retribution were on a large scale, no matter how petty the slight. The entire crew of the Nemesis—save those absolutely essential to maintaining the ship in flight—had been summoned to the largest of the deployment hangars. Starscream and Skywarp, despite their greater size, were ranged at the front, doubtless deliberate, that they could get the best view of Thundercracker’s deactivation, and, Barricade thought, as he fought his way through the bulk of larger mechs, not caring (for once) if he offended anyone, that Megatron might get full enjoyment of their distress.



Barricade could feel their nervous anticipation. It was a risk: they’d always known it. It might not work. It might be for nothing. He could feel a faint thought skirling through his bond, that they had put Barricade through that, possibly only to drag him through the agony of a bonded’s death. Don’t worry about me, he pushed through the bond. He didn’t worry about himself.



He pushed himself to the front with one last elbow, shoving Sideways aside, his optics blazing, daring the courier to protest. Sideways thought better of it, and grumbled, but stepped back, ceding his spot.



Megatron swept in, followed by Soundwave, whose panels ruffled pompously in the high light of the hangar. Barricade felt a wave of hatred crash through him—his? Skywarp’s? Starscream’s? He couldn’t tell. Possibly all of them. Megatron raked his optics across the assembled mechs, his mouth quirking with contented malevolence as he spotted Starscream and Skywarp, precisely where he’d ordered them to be. He settled himself at the far end of the hangar.



“Bring him,” he said, aloud. Unnecessarily. Entirely for show—a reminder, a signal of his power. Moments later, Thundercracker entered, flanked by two smaller guards, non-aerials. Megatron was taking no chances of a Seeker suborning another flyer. Thundercracker did not enter as a mech cowed by his incipient death. Barricade felt a surge of contempt from his link with the blue jet, as he took in the ostentatious display. All to witness bringing him down, destroying the Trine. Thundercracker had refused to lower himself to giving Barricade his comm freq, but Barricade could imagine his thoughts well enough from the harsh rush of disdain.



Thundercracker settled his optics on Megatron, and Barricade felt a sudden strange push of pride. Thundercracker’s arrogance, his aloofness, was a weapon in itself: Megatron shifted, riled by Thundercracker’s refusal to play his role. No weeping prisoner, no shell-shocked exhaustion from a mech who has tried to sort his last cycles. Only this calm arrogance. A warrior’s death. Barricade always thought that stuff was nonsense. Poetry. Mythology. But here…he began to believe.



“The crime,” Megatron began, his voice booming, “for which you stand accused is a physical assault upon a ranking officer.” A pause to let the charge ripple around the room. Barricade forgot that most of the mechs on the Nemesis probably had no idea what had gone on. It felt weird to be included for once. Weird to belong.



“Do you deny it?” An opportunity for Thundercracker to attempt some defense.



“I do not.”



Megatron frowned, displeased. “Do you have any remorse for your actions?”



“That I did not strike harder.”



Barricade felt a twinge of unease across his bond, from Starscream, soothed by Skywarp and Thundercracker. Thundercracker demanding trust, insisting that he needed this to balance himself. Barricade tried to keep his own nerves to himself, but he knew he had no control over the bond. None. He didn’t have the wiring or the programming to control it. He didn’t want his worry to infect the others, so he tried to shove it out of his own processor as well, focussing on what was unfolding before him. Without thinking, without feeling. Just…trusting.



It was possibly the hardest thing he had ever done.



“This is not the way to mitigate your punishment,” Soundwave asserted, stepping forward. Trying to explain to Thundercracker what he was supposed to be doing. Planting himself squarely in Megatron’s camp. Barricade felt a prickle of dislike: Starscream’s. Yes. That he seconded, and felt a flicker of amusement from the bronze jet for the agreement. Barricade wanted to open comm freqs, but didn’t dare risk breaking their concentrations, their focus, their will.



Thundercracker rotated his head in a gaze that took in the assembled crowd. “This is not the place for mitigations. This is not a trial. This is a show. To call it anything like justice is blasphemy.”



Megatron’s mouth moved, infuriated. Thundercracker was on edge, but strangely relaxed, as if this were familiar territory for him. As though this were his kind of battle.



“This is punishment,” Megatron said. “And for your transgression, you do know the penalty is deactivation. And for your insubordination, I shall make that penalty very, very painful.”



A trickle of fear, that Thundercracker himself reached to stanch through the bond. “Insubordination is a charge one brings against beings under your authority. I am not.”



Megatron’s scathing glare took in the guards with their shockrods, the stasis cuffs, the assembled mechs who held his authority as absolute. “Incarceration has broken you,” he observed, amused.



“It was a diverting experience,” Thundercracker said, matching Megatron’s disdained amusement to the micron. “But I have grown rather weary of playing. As a member of a Quaterne—the only one currently in existence—I invoke the autonomy of the Quaterne. We have no peers. We have no equals. We recognize,” he slowed his voice, “no authority but our own.” He let the pronouncement sink in.



“Delusional,” Megatron spat, but his optics showed wariness. “You have no fourth. Unless you were driven so mad you are seeing ghosts.”



“We have a fourth,” Starscream said. “He has bonded with us.” He stepped forward, out of line, out of place. Barricade could feel the tension it took for him to take this risk. It was his idea, after all. And he felt Starscream push aside the invocation of Skyfire, as a thing too vile.



Megatron’s optics flickered over the crowd, lighting on where Barricade stood. “You do not mean….”



Thundercracker tapped his foot impatiently against the deck plating. “Have your servant,” he sneered at Soundwave, “verify, if you wish. We understand your limitations and that you do not understand that Seekers do not lie about such sacred things.”



Soundwave stepped forward, agitated by the slight. “I shall.” One of his probes whipped out, splicing sharply into Thundercracker’s systems. Barricade could feel the acid burn of the nanites working in through the bond, Thundercracker’s repugnance at Soundwave’s intrusion. He endured it, bracing himself for it. Barricade could almost hear his thoughts—that he owed his Trine this much suffering, at least, for what he had done. For what he had knowingly, needlessly made them endure. Barricade sent a push of support through the bond, knowing Thundercracker would probably reject it, but sending it anyway. He knew all too well himself the violation that Soundwave’s intrusions were. Hated it.



He felt a surprised stiffening against his push, and then a welcoming. A strange, hesitant gratitude that Barricade knew and empathized. Barricade quivered where he stood, a little shocked at the change. He’ll never like me, Barricade thought. But maybe, just maybe, he can respect me.



Soundwave jerked the tentacle from its connection harshly, his face tight, unreadable. Thundercracker refused to wince, though Barricade could feel the pain lance through him. Barricade reached in, taking some of it to himself, taking the burden and the shock off of Thundercracker. The blue jet needed to be wary, alert. Barricade, ignored, off to one side, did not. Could absorb and sustain this way.



“They have,” Soundwave spat, as though the words tasted vile. “They have bonded.”



“And this ‘law’?”



“Absolute.” Skywarp stepped forward. “Since the early ages. Seeker law is involate, absolute.”



“I have broken precedent before,” Megatron said, breezily, but underneath, Barricade could sense the tension.



“You do not want to break this precedent,” Skywarp said. “Break it, and every air frame in your forces will abandon you. Because they will not break it. Nor will they forget.”



Megatron glared around the chamber, seeing restless anger stirring in the optics of his aerials. Vortex. Tailwind. Blackout. Measuring their loyalty. Measuring him.



“Respect Seeker law,” Starscream said, “and we shall serve your military aims.” His voice tightened at the adjective, a flat refusal of serving Megatron in any other way.



“Fine,” he said. “Have your Quaterne. But do not think that I shall forget.”



“Oh,” Thundercracker sneered, as Starscream crossed over, and keyed the stasis cuffs open, “We hope that you remember. Always.” He spun, as the cuffs dropped to the floor, ringing out freedom, and strode to the shipside door, Starscream and Skywarp trailing in his wake.



//Coming?// Skywarp asked, over the comm. //Kind of fucking up our grand exit here.// Barricade could feel a triumphant trill of amusement over the link. They had done it. They had won.



He broke ranks, trying to keep the joy from bouncing his steps as he raced to follow. His Quaterne.