Title: To the Rats
Author: ShadowDemon-Gengar
Category: Transformers
Character Pairings: Barricade/OC; Starscream/Alexis
Genre: Romance/Drama
Rating: T
Warnings: Profanity
Disclaimers: I own nothing Transformers.
Summary: Two women; two Decepticons; nine Autobots; over 6.6 billion humans; one mutual enemy. The Decepticons and Autobots are at it again, preparing themselves for another intense battle against one another, but what is going to happen when both sides learn of a more heinous threat slowly making its way toward Earth, searching for the spark of Primus?

Recommendation(s): Keep story's width at "3/4"; adjustment settings are at the top-right corner of the site, where the different font styles and sizes are located. "3/4" is the original width that this story was written in.

Author's Note: So, as you probably know, this story has gone through hell. This is its second revision, though its change isn't as drastic as before. The plot is basically the same except for the simple fact that I've taken out Thumper and Dallas. I just wasn't interested in them anymore and I felt they were holding back the story and my inspiration to keep writing it.

I probably lost interest in them because Thumper was my first, original TFormer . . . but now that I have 'Transformers: The Astro Limit', I have more than enough originality so go around. I just want to focus on Barricade and Starscream now, like I was going to do.

So, without further ado, I give you back "To the Rats". :)

Prologue

"Get back 'ere, you hunk of Decepticon scrap!"

The growling, taunting voice of the Autobot's weapons specialist seemed to vibrate the very air, but the dark Decepticon was yards away from them, running through the forest as fast as his already heavily damaged body could take him, trying desperately to avoid slamming into trees or tripping over ones laying nearly hidden under years' worth of decaying foliage.

But it was difficult as he charged through the dense woods in the dead of night, having sacrificed the guidance of his high beams in hope of keeping himself hidden.

His energon was racing through his titanium veins, leaking steadily from his vicious wounds as he ducked under thick tree limbs and hopped over ditches deeply engraved into the earth.

As determined as he was to escape, his body just wasn't having it. His wounds were screaming and his high quantity of oxygen intake was becoming more and more difficult for his vents to filter. His processing program was setting off alarms and feeding him second-by-second information on his level of energon and the condition of his body, and right now, it was telling him that he was losing too much vital fluid and that his vents were beginning to overheat.

But he ignored the urgent warnings; he didn't have time to stop. He could still hear the rambunctious lot of Autoscum; they were dead set on finding him and finishing him off. No, he couldn't afford to stop, not if he wanted to live another day. He could afford a little internal damage if it meant getting away.

Disable Emergency Offline Activation program, he mentally growled, not wanting his central processing unit to shut him down in the middle of his escape should his damages become too severe. If my body reaches critical, engage Coolant System and release back up energon.

'Emergency Offline Activation overridden – Coolant System engaging – Emergency Energon Backup preparing,' responded the male, monotone voice of his processing program.

He felt a sudden rush of cold, almost numbing liquid push through every inch of his fuel cables, the sudden shock of it momentarily catching him off guard, and it in those few seconds of distraction that made things go from bad to really bad.

His sensors' red-light warnings echoed throughout his head, his barely operating Night Vision not honing in on the web of vines in time until he was already pummeling through them.

Most of the weaving lengths of vegetation gave way, but he was abruptly brought up short when some of the thicker vines caught him firmly around the ankle joints. Instead of snapping under his strength and weight, they stubbornly held fast, causing his feet to stop dead in their tracks as momentum of his body kept going.

"Argh!" he shouted, surprised, and crashed to the ground with such force that the forest floor actually trembled.

"Over there! I think I heard him over there!" shouted one of his enemies.

He struggled violently to get free from the tangled mess wrapped tightly around his ankle joints, his Spark pulsing hard as he heard his enemies closing in fast, their headlight beams growing brighter and brighter as they grew closer.

Savagely slicing through the vines with his talons until he was able to successfully free himself, Barricade struggled back to his feet only to nearly fall again when his leg practically buckled. His hands immediately grabbed at his knee joint as red-hot pain exploded up and down his leg.

Gritting his teeth, he took a moment to look at the damage. Glowing, neon pink energon coated his metallic claws and gushed out from the shattered kneecap.

'Energon level will reach critical in eighteen-point-six nano-kliks,' informed the calm voice of his processor

Estimate the distance left before reaching the other side of this fragging forest, he demanded, fighting to ignore the circuit-clenching pain coming from his newly inherited wound as he forced himself to keep moving, using the trees to propel his weight forward.

'Estimation: sixty-seven Earth yards.'

Scan ahead; are there Autobots on the other side? he thought frantically.

He was beginning to feel lightheaded from the pulsing pain of his wounds and the extreme loss of his body's liquidated solar-energy.

'Error: sensors not responding; scanning failed. Second attempt will begin in five seconds, responded the male voice, and then continued with, 'Energon level has reached critical – Emergency Energon Backup engaging.'

Using the tiny boost of energy caused by the fresh flow of energon to his last advantage, Barricade threw himself from tree to tree, able to keep any damaging pressure off his blown kneecap. He felt numbing relief course through his body when he finally saw a clearing coming up ahead.

'WARNING! WARNING! Three Cybertronian signatures. WARNING: hostile intentions.'

But the second attempted scan came too late. He trampled past the last few trees . . . and into an ambush.

"Freeze, Deceptiscum!"

Breathing heavily, he stared into an Autobot's plasma cannon, its barrel burning hot with deadly intent as it pressed in close to his head. He slowly took in his surroundings, a heavy, defeated and tired sensation weighing him down until he was slowly sinking to his knees, the dirt cool against his heated steel.

Everything that had happened in the past hour came crashing into him with an angry vengeance: the assassination attempt on the Autobots' human allies; the miscalculation in the plan; enraged Autobots open firing on him and his partner-in-crime; then being chased through the forest.

He glanced over his shoulder when he heard the other Autobots that had been chasing him stomp into the clearing, ultimately cornering him. He took notice of the disembodied tail of Scorponok tightly clenched in one of the younger soldiers' fist. A chill sank deep into his circuits.

They weren't going to just simply kill him . . .

A proud Decepticon to the end, he turned his gaze up to the night sky, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing the defeat in his optics as they drew closer around him, their weapons drawn.

He blinked his optics once, momentarily caught up in the beauty of the stars. They sparkled down at him like tiny diamonds.

He watched the beautiful midnight sky, feeling something inside his chest – something dark and angry that had had a hold of his Spark for so long throughout the war between the Autobots and Decepticons – lift away; releasing him from its harsh grip and leaving him feeling . . . lighter; content even.

As the hulking figures surrounding him came down on him in one massive shadow, completely blocking out the velvety, dark sky, he couldn't help but wonder . . . with his last, conscious thought . . . if things would have been different; happier, even . . . if he had chosen a different path in his life?