Monkey See
A Transformers Prime Fanfiction
Arrival
Chapter 1
"Knockout, would you please finish up those reports before you leave at the end of your shift?"
The voice was calm, reasonable, respectful even. Knockout fought back the urge to release a long exvent and gritted his dentia painfully. Long experience with the Decepticon command structure had left him a master at managing the complex and often lethal politics of life under Megatron's rule. Life under Autobot command was... very different indeed. Yet no matter how often he repeated to himself that the Autobots in general, and any medic Ratchet had trained in particular, were soft he could not quite remove the nagging voice at the back of his head. The one that said stepping over the invisible like rank marked on the floor would earn him either a beating, or a smelting. So he held the comment he really wanted to give inside his own processor.
"Of course First Aid," Knockout replied smoothly. "You know no one does them better."
The red and white Autobot gave a soft chuckle at that and nodded.
"That is certainly true enough," First Aid replied before stretching. "You are a hard worker Knockout. Do know that we appreciate everything you do."
There was that respectful care again, and Primus knew it wasn't that that set the medic on edge. Knockout winced minutely at the abrasions and dings the movement revealed just under every plate on the Autobot. Oh, he tried to convince his superior to have proper mesh maintenance done. He dropped subtle hints and attempted to coax the self-sacrificing little fool to come to the wash racks with him on their rare down time. Knockout had found that requesting care for his own mesh worked the best. If First Aid had just finished buffing out his subordinate's finish he usually wouldn't object to a little reciprocal care. But Ratchet had trained his little minions well, whether he had intended to or not. Self sacrifice was the order of the day, every day.
"You have been an immeasurable help with all the paperwork," First Aid offered with a smile. "I must admit that that was one part of civilization I didn't miss. Goodnight Knockout." With that the senior medic left the rapidly dimming room, no doubt to spend a few illicit hours aiding some poor former Decepticon too scared to come into the Autobot controlled medical bay before falling exhausted into his own powerdown berth for a short rest.
"And that folks," Knockout mutter shaking his head, "is a perfect example of how sparklings learn far more from example than instruction." And of course that is the main reason you are here and not on Earth. "Oh do shut up." No innocents to corrupt here. At least Ratchet leaves his minions with virtuous faults. Knockout rolled his optics at the inner voice and turned to select the proper maintenance tool from one of the many drawers that lined the medical bay walls. He had made peace with his decision and if his spark was demanding he take up Ratchet's offer of vacation time on the blue planet he was well able to ignore it. "Computer, activate voice to glyph recording, Iaconian style Orion-seven, my voice only. Begin."
The computer chirped in compliance and Knockout fought back a chuckle. Autobots, he thought with a pleased smile, even their sparkless machines are cheerful. It was a refreshing change from the dark, ominous feel of Decepticon tech but he couldn't help but mock the sentimentality.
"Report One: Re Neutral Golddust, grounder frame, forged pre-singularity unknown age," an ironic smirk twisted Knockout's faceplates even as he continued entering the pertinent data for the simple joint alignment he had performed on the old dancer.
The singularity, a term that the returning soldiers had brought home from Earth. It was a politically correct term if ever there was one. The Autobots didn't want to address the fact that their beloved Optimus Prime and the old system he stood for, the system they had fought and offlined for, was gone. None of the former Decepticons wanted to admit that Optimus had been a true Prime in the first place and they had been wrong to oppose him, not yet. The fact that it had been him and not Megatron who had truly effected lasting change was a point still too sore to fully process.
"So we call his joining with the Allspark the singularity," Knockout muttered, then sighed. "Delete last phrase. End Report One. Begin Report Two. Re Sawbones, Seeker frame, formed post-singularity AD 02, minor, Guardian Former Decepticon Blackstar. Treatment for cybermites."
The medic was tidying up the lab as he recorded. Cybermites were merely annoying, if you caught the infestation early, but sterilizing the lab after a case was always a necessary if tiresome precaution. Unfortunately neither task required his full attention and as it always did his processor started to wander. For all of Blackstar's angry posturing in the Autobot controlled medical facility it had been clear that he was utterly devoted to his sparkling. That was hardly unusual for Seekers. The elite flyers had some old cultural attachment to the young of the species if he remembered Gasket's stories correctly.
Knockout flinched and paused the recording, for a long moment wrestling with an old memory file. Long engrained habit resisted the activation of the file. It wasn't safe to think on such, soft, things. New protocols, the ones that let him thrive amongst the victors of the war, scolded him. No one here would call him soft now even if he chose to reveal his pre-war past and his unusual upbringing. The medic finally placed the memory file in the queue to be reactivated. A lot of the old things had surfaced lately, now that he was safe. Still there were a few he kept more active for caution's sake.
"Do not give your trust easily," the dark purple mech warned as he steered the youngling toward the doors. "Make every mech or femme you let close earn every unguarded moment you give them." The elder mech knelt and stared into his optics searchingly. There was a moment of hesitation. "Do you remember the goals your Guardian gave you?" he asked with a hint of gentle kindness in his voice.
"Learn good, become a medic, help the injured, make friends," the youngling repeated seriously.
"Good," the older mech nodded. "You will do Gasket proud," his voice caught on some painful memory of his own and his hand tightened on the youngling's shoulder. "Now, what is your designation and faction?"
"I am the Decepticon Knockout!"
In the present the lab was clean and his processor had even more room to wander. This time he let it. Knockout couldn't keep the bittersweet smile from his faceplates or his voice as he recalled kind blue optics and that always hopeful look his own Guardian had worn. How the poor battered mech had loved to tell his sparkling tales of the Seekers and their true calling, of Cybertron as it had been before.
"Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away," Knockout murmured softly. "That's what the humans say." He gave a tired sigh. "Delete previous comment."
It was strange really. To say it had been a hard life growing up in the streets of Iacon in the so called Golden Age would be an understatement of epic proportions. Even with his Guardian and the rest of the little family he had cobbled together scrabbling for every scrap of energon they could Knockout's tanks had never been full. They took what shelter they could wherever they could. They struggled to avoid the authorities who would have snatched them apart at the slightest provocation. Still, somehow Knockout had never gotten over longing for those times. Not when he had been accepted into the Decepticon ranks and had been assured at least a warm berth at night. Not when he had advanced through the ranks until he had never had to worry about having a full tank again. He had never stopped wanting what he had had then, what had been stolen from his so suddenly. Bright blue eyes. A warm childish laugh. Knockout shut down that train of thought viciously. He might be among soft sparked Autobots now, but some thoughts were still just too dangerous.
The reports were finally finished and the medic was about to return to his quarters to work on the files of instructional material when the arrival alarm began to blare through the officers' com line. His processors quickened pleasurably. This was a nice little almost-surprise. A quick stop by his quarters then and off to the transport center to meet the new arrivals once they were through quarantine.