TITLE: Planet Earth
Imperfection Deviation
SERIES: Imperfection
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by
people with a lot more money
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any
mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize
FEEDBACK: Loved
BETA: okami_myrrhibis
Inspired by watching a few episodes of Planet Earth with Sapphire and musing
about the mechs, mainly Jazz, who would probably drag Barricade into watching
them with him… :P
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There were times when Barricade questioned the wisdom of the spark bond. Not
because he was a Decepticon and Jazz was an Autobot. Not because they were so
very different from their personal views on certain matters, like the war or
Megatron or the Decepticon cause. Not because Jazz was a do-gooder and would
protect a weaker life-form with his own existence, ready to get torn apart. Not
because it had already happened and Barricade had been helpless to do anything.
No, it was because sometimes his partner truly tested his patience, sanity and
tolerance. And his understanding of the other’s behavior. Jazz was intensely
interested in anything from other cultures. He would listen to the humans’
music, all kinds of music, be it classical, rock, pop, instrumental pieces,
experimental new sounds, or screeching noise that Barricade could barely
tolerate. Jazz would also log onto news channels, watch human television shows,
sit in on game shows with the humans at the base, or just enjoy a documentary.
Then there was his fascination with the organic world itself. With its fauna
and flora and geological features, the oceans and rivers and clouds and the
atmosphere. While Barricade found Earth a varied place, it was also too varied
for him. Cybertron had been pure metal. There had been no tides, no shifting
continents, no weather. It had been a steady existence. No variables in there.
Lately, there had been a new addition to it all: the combination of
appreciation of nature and watching the documentaries on TV – and telling
Barricade all about it.
The former Decepticon was really, really hard pressed not to just shoot his
partner – low setting, stun shot -- to shut him up about caves, deserts, ice,
oceans, land crawlers, flying animals and more. It didn’t help at all that Jazz
had been given a DVD collection called Planet Earth, which he watched with awed
fascination.
Barricade had to confess that the images were awe-inspiring even for a
mechanoid. He hadn’t known that there were places on this world that even he
would be dwarfed so immensely. Megatron himself would be a small mech compared
to the sheer rise of canyon walls around him.
“I wish we could go there,” Jazz said one evening as he watched the documentary
about deserts again.
Barricade looked at the screen and heard ‘Mongolia’. Barren landscapes of such
extension, no human would ever set sight on them should they go there. They
would be on their own, like on a different planet, and see nothing but a few
animals, if at all.
“It’s a desert,” he commented coldly.
“Yeah, but look at it. It’s amazing, Cade!”
Blue optics lit up with Jazz’s passion for this world and Barricade felt
something inside his spark curl slightly. While he had no inclination to ever
go to any of those places – there was no sense in that – he reflected Jazz’s
excitement, his passion, his energy, in his own way. Should Jazz decide he
wanted to spend some time touring this world, Barricade knew he would tag
along. It wouldn’t do to lose the Autobot to some natural disaster or whatever
else could happen if he could help it. He had lost him once; he wouldn’t lose
him again so easily. Not without a fight.
The scene shifted to a cave, to bats, to a chasm so deep, a mech would be as
lost as a human. Jazz was talking, but Barricade wasn’t really listening to the
words. He was letting the sounds wash over him, strangely affected by the
simple presence of the silver Autobot, watching human TV, and no one else
around. It was their private time, spent together, without pretense, without
having to be who they had been trained to be. It was almost like back on
Cybertron, before the war.
Of course, back then Barricade had already been a shock trooper and he would
never be able to shed that, but the usual wariness and tension was gone for
now.
Crystals glowed in the light of the camera, a multitude of colors racing
across the plain white structure, so delicate, so complicated, and still
nothing but a mindless organism. No one had programmed it to act like this. It
was a genetic code, something it had been born with. Unlike mechs, whose sparks
had been created by the Allspark, all their basic programming already present,
Earth creatures had evolved into this.
Jazz respected this evolution, was infinitely curious about it, researched it
with Ratchet sometimes, and when those two talked humans and Earth, it was as
if it was the pinnacle of all existence. Barricade had encountered other life
before, but never as complicated as humans. Never as diverse. Never as
resilient. For all their organic existence, they weren’t defeated easily.
Because they evolved.
You could eradicate their existence wherever you met them, you could shoot them
down in their planes, you could squish them, you could annihilate them should
they stand in your way – and they came back. They fought with teeth and claws.
They were more frightening than shock troopers, Barricade mused with dark
humor.
Like Sam Witwicky. The boy had survived incredible odds and only come out so
much stronger. He hadn’t run, he hadn’t caved, he hadn’t surrendered, even when
faced with death. Megatron terrified even the strongest Decepticons into
cowering down, but the human had rather wanted to die than surrender.
‘No sacrifice, no victory’, Sam had once told him. So fitting.
Jazz was pointing out the varied life in the oceans, how it existed in
incredible cold, heat, pressure, absolute darkness, in acidic environments
where no one would even suspect it. It might not be complicated life, but even
simplistic forms evolved.
“Amazing,” he said, sounding awed.
Barricade had to agree, though he didn’t say it out loud.
Maybe one day they could move about this planet more or less freely. He would
let Jazz lead the way, to explore, learn, ask, interpret and just enjoy. Barricade
would follow him, reflecting the joy and enthusiasm and wonder but never say it
out loud.
That he watched all eleven parts with Jazz was simply to get to know more about
this planet that was his exile, refuge, his not-voluntarily-chosen-new-home. At
least that was what he would argue he was doing, should anyone ask. No one ever
did.
Jazz just shot him knowing looks, smiling a little, the blue optics glowing
with approval that had Barricade’s spark shiver. He hated himself for seeking
approval from the Autobot, but part of him was too tightly interwoven with Jazz
not to want it.
Sometimes one of the others would join them, sometimes even a human, but they
never stayed long. Barricade glowered them into retreat soon enough. Sam had
had the same knowing smirk on his face as Jazz and Barricade had sent him a
nasty thought.
It had only made the grin grow wider.
In the end Jazz downloaded all DVDs into his memory core and Barricade shot him
a questioning look.
“It’s something I want to remember,” his partner said softly, seriously. “I’ve
forgotten too much already.”
Barricade caught one wrist, keeping Jazz still for a moment. “Would you ever
leave here if you could?” he asked.
The bright blue optics flickered a little. “And go where?”
“Anywhere.”
“As long as I can, I want to stay here, Cade,” was the truthful, even answer.
The former Decepticon regarded the other mech steadily, then nodded once and
released the captured wrist.
So would he. In this place called planet Earth. Because right now it was the
best place to be.