The early morning sun made Cybertron gleam. Gazing upon his newly-restored home brought a warmth to Knock Out's spark, something he hadn't felt in quite some time. He waited outside the Nemesis, leaning against the hull by the loading bay, lost in the luster of the home world he never thought he'd see again.
The sentimental musings were almost enough to take his mind off the fact he was waiting for Smokescreen and Wheeljack for a retrieval mission. The very thought of having to deal with them for an entire drive to Kaon brought about the twinges of a headache, and he rubbed his face with a well-manicured hand, as he let out a small, frustrated groan.
The three of them had been tasked with raiding a base near Darkmount, where it was rumored Megatron had stored some of his energon supplies before Cybertron had gone dark. Right now, they could use all they could get, and since Knock Out was the only one among them with Decepticon intelligence, he'd be leading the way. All in all, it'd be a rather boring mission, if not for his traveling partners.
Smokescreen was mostly just annoying. The twerp may have matured considerably since the war came to a screeching halt, but he was still an excitable rookie. Any and all opportunities for action made him salivate and leap around excitedly like an earthen canine being promised walkies. Knock Out could handle him, maybe drown him out with thoughts of cruising that one European highway with no speed limit on Earth if he tried hard enough.
It was Wheeljack that concerned him. The Wrecker made no secret that, even though he'd fought alongside the Autobots when it mattered most, he didn't trust Knock Out any further than he could throw him. The past few days had brought many an angry glare and sneer from Wheeljack whenever Knock Out dared mar his vision, and even a not-so-mumbled comment about "filthy 'Cons", just loud enough so Knock Out could hear. Knock Out wasn't about to let the little gremlin bother him - he'd heard much worse personal digs over his lifetime - but part of that came from being able to avoid Wheeljack whenever he got snippy. Being in such close proximity to him for the better part of the day was not appealing. It was getting to the point where Smokescreen's incessant chatter about whatever was on his mind was looking like the pleasant alternative.
Not for the first time, Knock Out missed Breakdown. Having him here would have made the whole trip bearable at least, maybe even a little fun. The big lug was actually very good company, despite not being one for small talk. But then, Knock Out had always liked that about him, how he only said what he thought was important. Better than most, Breakdown understood the value of silence in a world constantly besieged by a symphony of death and gunfire.
Knock Out sighed and ran his hand down his face once more, steeling himself against the brief flicker of pain in his spark. He yanked his thoughts back to the upcoming mission, which really only succeeded in increasing the tiny, sharp pulses of his migraine. He took a deep breath. At least, when he got back, he could slip away for a nice polishing. That always managed to relax him when he was wound up. Just the thought of the slow, circular motions made the inklings of the headache drip away.
When he heard thudding footsteps descending from the platform, Knock Out braced himself for an ugly glare. He was instead greeted by a torso. It belonged to a much taller mech, most of that height coming from his massive red and blue shoulders. Ultra Magnus.
Knock Out's confusion and shock over seeing the commander there was evident as he said, "What's up, big blue?" The nickname made Magnus flinch a bit, but he didn't stop him. "Thought I was supposed to be saddled with the kid and Wheeljack today. Or did Wheeljack finally blow himself up with a grenade he forget he had?"
The small, quick smile was unexpected, but Knock Out didn't have time to analyze it before Ultra Magnus said, "There have been several signals for approaching spacecraft in the general orbit, both Decepticon and Autobot. Wheeljack and Smokescreen are now in charge of air control, while we sort them all out."
"Well, that's dandy," Knock Out said, pushing himself off to his feet and brushing off some invisible debris from his arms and chassis. "Looks like my day just freed up. And I was so looking forward to that retrieval mission today. Alas!"
"Actually," Magnus said, straightening himself, crossing his arms behind his back in his best military stance, "I will be escorting you on your mission. It is probably for the best, since my bed will allow us to transport any energon we find much more safely."
Knock Out huffed a bit. He supposed Ultra Magnus was an improvement over a jabbering scout and a crazy mech with swords that happened to hate him, but not by much. He and Knock Out had not said much to each other since they met, but Knock Out knew from Vehicon gossip and even from other Autobots that the officer was a humorless stick in the mud, and didn't like "fraternizing" with his troops all that much. At the very least, this was going to be a quiet mission. As long as the big bot didn't force him to call him "sir", Knock Out would most certainly be happy.
"Welp, I suppose we'd better head out then," Knock Out said, turning away from Magnus and walking a few paces away from the ship before transforming, playfully revving his engine. "We're burning daylight."
He heard Magnus transform behind him, and they wordlessly headed out.
Knock Out was right when he thought that they'd have a quiet, peaceful trip. Time and miles clicked by, and they barely spoke at all, except when Magnus asked him a few questions about their direction and or mentioned their ETA. It was starting to get to him. Sure, it was better than Smokescreen prattling on about nothing or Wheeljack's more hostile silence, but he would appreciate some conversation. They'd been driving for several cycles now, and he was even more bored than he thought possible. Even Breakdown occasionally offered some kind of commentary on the scenery when they had missions together.
He briefly contemplated doing a few doughnuts or something to perk things up a bit as Magnus accelerated a little to get closer to his side. When he felt the tension in the frame next to his, the thought of having a little fun on the way there was even more appealing. This was the closest Knock Out had ever been to Ultra Magnus, and he could tell the guy needed to loosen up. Magnus' struts were taut enough to snap at any moment, and Knock Out could feel the mech's rigidity, even in vehicle mode.
Now that Knock Out thought about it, he hadn't really seen Magnus interacting with the others all that much. True, he'd only been around for a few days, and for two of those days, Magnus had been in a Predacon-induced coma, but he didn't remember many visits for him while he was laid up. There had been a few at first, mostly from Smokescreen, but even those slowly came to a stop. When Magnus had finally come to, he'd only had Knock Out and Ratchet to greet him and fill him in on what had happened.
It'd been quite a bit to take in, and Magnus had been quiet the entire time. They'd both stalled when they got to the part that was still the most painful. Magnus' expression had not changed when he was told that he was commanding officer now that Optimus was gone. He'd simply nodded, and asked if he was free to leave, then done so, as stiff as he'd ever been.
Knock Out hadn't seen much of Magnus since that day. It didn't really strike him as unusual, since they worked too totally different, but equally demanding fields. Knock Out and Ratchet were busy getting medical files squirreled away and cleaning up the mess from the Predacon army. Magnus had an entire planet to get back in order. Knock Out supposed that he shouldn't be at all surprised by that rigidness Magnus projected - from what he'd gleaned, again from those ever-loose-lipped Vehicons , Magnus had had it rough, what with the loss of limbs and everything. The added responsibility of breathing life back into a struggling planet probably didn't make it easier.
Even so, all the rational reasons for a mech being tense and quiet seemed to slip to the background as thought, only briefly, that there was something…sad about the way Magnus carried himself. He couldn't describe it better than that.
"We should be reaching the base in a few hundred yards," Magnus stated stiffly, jostling Knock Out from his musings. Taking a quick look around, he did start recognizing some scenery in the war torn area. Ahead, loomed Darkmount, still imposing despite being abandoned and silent. Knock Out recalled being summoned there once, with many other medics and engineers, to discuss Megatron's plans for something he called a triple-changer. They all agreed it was madness, telling Megatron so, and, at the time, they'd thought the project scrapped. Really, it had just been handed over to Shockwave. Things like "the laws of creation" didn't seem to bother him as much as it did them.
They came upon the base soon after that. It was a ramshackle little building, possibly one of the earliest bases his former faction had ever created, back when it was little more than a civil rights movement. It was weathered and had an ominous feeling about it. Knock Out felt a chill go up his struts as he cursed himself for watching too many human horror films. They'd proved themselves to be a waste of time already, and there was certainly nothing from them lurking in that building.
At least, he hoped.
They transformed, and Magnus pulled a tracking device from his subspace. It beeped pleasantly, informing them that energon was nearby. Magnus looked down to his traveling companion, his face passive, and said, "If you would be so kind as to lead the way, doctor."
Knock Out gave a flippant shrug and walked ahead, Magnus' thudding footsteps falling in time behind his.
The inside of the base was no more inviting than the outside. Time had taken it's toll here. Beams and wires hung haphazardly from the ceiling or sprouted out of walls like deformed growths. Their footprints disturbed what could only be years worth of grime and dust. The smell of the place was the worst. Spilled energon permeated it, mixed with the stale, musty stench of the worn down, rusted machinery that had once made the place run like clockwork.
To put it colloquially, it gave Knock Out the heebie-jeebies.
Magnus seemed less phased, focused on the tracker in his hand. Said device had stopped beeping so frequently, only doing so on the off-chance Magnus turned in a random direction. Even now, Knock Out could feel that tension lingering in the commander's frame. Was he afraid?
Magnus turned to his left, and the beeping stopped altogether. The tracker had lost it's signal. A scowl passed over Magnus' face, and he said, "It appears that there is less energon here than we first speculated"
"Either that," Knock Out said, looking up at the hanging wires, hoping to Primus he wouldn't see any body parts strewn among them, "or something here is interfering with the signal on your little gadget." He spied a familiar box on the wall, and pointed it out to Magnus. "That's a dampening field generator. Shockwave developed them to short-out tracing and tracking equipment so this base couldn't be found. It's a low-tech version of the one on the Nemesis. Handy for messing with little devices like that one." He tapped the tracker in Magnus' hand with a perfectly manicured claw, before adding, "If there is any energon in here, we're gonna have to find it ourselves. And here I was so looking forward to avoiding real work…"
Magnus did not acknowledge the joke, sliding the now-useless tracker back into his subspace. "In that case," he said, "we shall have to split up.
First rule of surviving of a horror movie: never go off alone. Knock Out refrained from giving out his little nugget of wisdom as Magnus continued.
"Does this dampening field block comm signals as well?"
"It shouldn't if they're within the base," Knock Out replied. "So if we find anything or run into anything…less than pleasant, we should be able to get ahold of each other."
Magnus nodded. "Then I will take the left corridors, doctor, You take the right. Comm me if and when you find anything."
Knock Out merely gave a two-fingered salute, before Magnus turned on his heels and made his way down the left corridor. Knock Out was left alone. He fixed his gaze on the dark corridors that had been assigned to him. As he flicked on his headlights and walked into the pitch black, he wished more than ever for Breakdown to be here. At least it would have given him someone to trip when the zombies started chasing him.
As it turned out, the rest of the base was just as bad as the entrance, with the added luxury of darkness absolutely everywhere. Knock Out continued down what could only be described as the longest creepy, dark hall in history, his headlights only bright enough to illuminate a few feet in front of him at a time. He'd passed several rooms already, but most of them appeared to be soldiers quarters, nothing where you would keep a stash of energon.
So Knock Out's search continued, despite the loud, thumping protest of his racing spark.
Soon, the barracks stopped. Now, he passed a conference room, and it became clear that the base had been abandoned in a hurry. The room was filled with overturned chairs and data pads still strewn about the tables and floors, their screens shattered from being dropped by fleeing officers. Knock Out briefly wondered what had lead to their sudden departure. Autobots getting the drop on them? Air raid? Maybe a rogue Insecticon had managed to break in an maul a few people, and now wandered the halls, hungry for more hapless bots to feed on…
Knock Out shook his head, internally chiding himself. He swore up and down that, when this ridiculous mission was over and they were back on the Nemesis, he was deleting every horror movie on his personal entertainment data pad. They turned him into a simpering ninny.
A soft groan interrupted his thoughts.
Knock Out froze. For a brief moment, he prayed to Primus that he'd actually heard something else. The wind shifting some loose support beams, or maybe the ancient floor creaking under his weight. But even as he stood, still as a corpse there in the dark, the groan echoed out again, louder than before. It was full of pain, and very weak. It was the groan of a mech near death. Knock Out knew that, as a medic, he should go identify the source and tend to whoever needed his assistance. As a mech who valued his own life, though, he thought it far more prudent to just transform, peal out of this Primus-forsaken place, and never look back.
Suddenly, a rattling cough ripped through the darkness like a hungry maw, making Knock Out jump. It kept going, a cacophony caused by struggling intakes, very much broken, from the sound of them. And the strangest thing was that Knock Out recognized that cough. The more he tried to tell himself it couldn't possibly be true, the more familiar the gasping and retching noises became. As they finally subsided, leaving only a wheezing noise in their place, Knock Out started running toward the sound.
His eyes were finally adjusting to the dimness, and he realized he was running out of dark, creepy hallway. Just when he thought that maybe there really had been something hiding in the barracks that had been watching him this entire time, the outline of the bottom of a medical berth came into view in the beam of his headlights. The wheezing noise was tapering off slightly, as whoever made it grew weaker from the strain, but he could tell it was close by. There wasn't much time left.
Knock Out began scanning his headlights over every inch of the forgotten medbay. The grotesque scenery did not bother him now. There was only that wheezing sound.
And then his headlights landed on a single gray foot, almost crushed flat, heel thruster charred black from where it had tried to roar to life and take flight. His headlights ran up two lithe gray legs. Both were broken at the knee joint, covered in various scars and scratches. The damage was only worse as he went further up, inspected the spindly arms, one dangling dangerously by some frayed wires that occasionally sparked pathetically. The torso was covered in dents, caused by blows from massive fists, and he saw the corners of the plating over the spark curled in. Someone had tried to rip it off. One of the delicate wings was dented so badly it was painful to look at. The other simply had the entire top half torn off, messily so, the tear jagged and crusted with energon. The worst part was the face. One side of the face was practically torn off, revealing the gruesome infrastructure of the jaw. The optic on that side was shattered, the glass within completely gone, showing only a flickering red dot that focused on nothing.
All in all, Starscream had seen better days. Knock Out's own dark humor made him shudder.
He tentatively stepped forward, thinking that maybe that coughing fit had been nothing more than a death rattle, and any minute, that light in the seeker's optic would flicker out. Half-thinking, Knock Out pulled out his medical scanner from his subspace. As he got close enough to Starscream to touch him, he kneeled down and held it out, slowly moving it over the broken body in front of him. He knew there was very little chance that, even if Starscream was alive, there would be much that Knock Out could do for him. He pressed on though, driven by a force he did not recognize, but also did not question. There was just something inside of him telling him he at least had to try.
In the words of the humans, it was the damndest thing really. Finally getting fed up with Starscream's poor treatment of him was why Knock Out was with the Autobots at all. This was the mech who'd thrown him under Megatron's heel when their little dark energon project blew up in their faces. The mech who only wanted him around as long as he was providing something useful, then expected him to keep his mouth shut at all other times, like some kind of mindless drone. And here Knock Out was, wasting his precious time and energy seeing if he could save the poor fragger's life. Maybe all this time around the goody-good Autobots was starting to soften him a little.
The scanner blipped, and to Knock Out's ever-lasting amazement, when he pulled himself from his thoughts and looked at the results, he was shocked that Starscream still had enough energon in his system to enter stasis lock. If that had happened, his body would have used less of its reserves to keep him awake, keep his mind going. All it needed was to make sure his spark continued to beat while it fixed the worst of his injuries. The fact that Starscream was still holding on like that, despite having injuries that should have caused him to bleed out within hours of getting them, gave Knock Out a sliver of hope. It wasn't much, but it was something. Looks like Starscream really had taken something away from all those thumpings he got from Megatron - the ability to persevere.
Knock Out shuddered again. He really needed to find another coping mechanism aside from all this dark humor. It made him sound horrifically morbid.
Another wheeze caught Knock Out's attention and when he looked up from his scanner, he was a tad bit creeped out to find that red dot staring directly at him. Knock Out bit back a cry of surprise as he tried to reign in his fear. He reminded himself that he'd seen much worse in his time as a field medic. This was no different.
Oh, but it was so different. The cold grip around his spark told him so. He couldn't place why, but this was so much different than any time he tended a bot on the battlefield. Or patched up the empty socket where Breakdown's eye used to be. Or even fixed up Starscream in the many times he'd had the slag beaten out of him by their lord and master. It was as different as night from day.
When Starscream tried to speak, it cut through the silence like a dagger, even though it was just a gutteral, "Nnnngh." Knock Out even thought he saw the seeker trying to move his head, possibly realizing his damaged eye was less than pleasant to have staring at you.
Knock Out reached out and set a hand on Starscream's. His uncharacteristic tenderness shocked him only for a moment. "It's alright, Starscream," he said, his smooth voice as soft and gentle as a carrier to its newspark. "Don't try to move or speak. You're in a bad way. I'll get you some help, alright. Just try to stay awake. Focus on me, okay?"
Starscream slowly blinked his good eye. Knock Out took that to mean yes. He didn't move his hand as he opened Magnus' comm channel.
Yes, doctor. What did you find, came the crisp voice at the other end.
"I think I found where all those energon signals were coming from," Knock Out said, "but it wasn't from any secret stash."
Elaborate.
"I found Starscream," was Knock Out's only reply. He knew Magnus could hear the worry in his voice, but he didn't care.
After a few seconds of silence, Magnus asked, What is his status?
"He's alive, but just barely. We're at the end of the left corridor. In the medbay. It's a big open area at the very end."
I shall be there momentarily. Magnus out. And the comm was cut. The silence would have been all consuming if it hadn't been for Starscream's wheezing. At least that meant the mech was still alive, for now. And so, Knock Out waited, never once moving his hand from Starscream's.
Knock Out looked up to Magnus as the bot's large feet came into view at his side. That tension was still there. He briefly wondered how the commander kept himself from breaking completely, as tightly wound as he always seemed to be.
"Is he…" Magnus asked, but Knock Out cut him off.
"He's still functioning, but he's hanging by a thread. He needs medical treatment, now." He could tell that the sudden sternness in his voice was a shock to Magnus. No one was ever prepared when Knock Out pulled his authority voice. Very few believed that he had one. Knock Out curtly continued, "We're definitely going to need a ground bridge. He won't survive the drive back."
That seemed to get Magnus going. "Understood," he said. He activated his comm and said, with a hint of urgency, "Ratchet, please open the ground bridge, and prepare the medbay. We have a prisoner, and he is in…very poor condition."
Knock Out couldn't hear Ratchet's side of the conversation, but he knew that the old medic wouldn't be happy about what they brought to his doorstep. None of the Autobots held any love for Starscream, and it'd be a fight to get them to help. But he just kept reminding himself that he had to try.
It was then he noticed that Starscream had managed to turn his head the rest of the way, and that his good eye was intently focused on him. He was probably using all of the strength he had left to do that, and the look was so full of confusion, even a slight bit of suspicion.
All Knock Out could do was give the broken hand another squeeze, hoping Starscream would take some comfort from it.
The ground bridge opened behind them seconds later. Magnus walked back over to them, and bent down to scoop the seeker up in his arms. Knock Out could hardly hope to support Starscream, let alone drag him through the ground bridge, so he didn't complain, even as he saw the battered gray form tense. The wing that was still whole attempted to fold against Starscream's back. Knock Out had seen him do that many times in the past. It was a defense mechanism, an attempt to hide the most sensitive part of his body from the savage blows he knew were coming.
Starscream's good eye remained focused on Knock Out the entire way through the ground bridge. There was little more he could do but offer the seeker a reassuring smile.