Author's Notes- This is what might have happened had the DJD found out about Knock Out and Starscream's betrayal. It is more a look into Knock Out's processor than anything else.
Special thanks to iwanita for her input.
Warnings- Major Character Death.
Bold- Comm link.
Italics- Thoughts/memories/link speak.
Pairing- Knock Out/Breakdown hinted.
Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters.
Verse- Prime/IDW-MTMTE crossover.
Units of Time: Astrosecond- 1 second, Klik- 1 minute, Cycle- 1 hour, Orn- 1 day, Decacycle- 1 week, Meta-cycle- 1 month, Solar cycle- 1 year, Vorn- 1 million years.
Unbetaed.
All mistakes are my own.
Hope you all enjoy it.
Euthanasia
Dear Tarn,
You did promise me the chance to explain my actions but this is just in case you get impatient or angry with what I have to say, and I think you will. You will interrupt me and that will be that. Of course you could stop reading and there is nothing I can do about that, but I feel I need to write this all down nevertheless. You see I was initially excited when I heard you were coming, not knowing the purpose of course. Rather foolish of me I suppose. I did not warn Starscream out of any plot or to be treacherous, certainly not out of a partnership (as you can see when he left me behind), rather, he is the closest mech as fragged up as it sounds that I have to a friend. No, not a friend, more a mech who was stuck in the same situation as I, myself was.
Ah but I am going off on a tangent, trying to postpone saying what needs to be said. It is here I fear you will stop listening, then stop reading and forget about me entirely. You most likely will so if you read on expect frankness as I write this truly for myself alone. To be blunt, Megatron is insane Tarn and his very existence is unnatural. Were it not for the dark energon shard in his spark he would have perished before my arrival on the Nemesis, and as naturally as can be expected in a war. His experimentation with the substance has long surpassed obsession. He risked himself and all of us in resurrecting Unicron, and could well have caused our destruction many times since through his use of it. He is beyond reason in regards to it. And that is by no means all.
I wonder Tarn if you would strike or beat Kaon for touching you or Vos as he struggles to learn Neocybex… I doubt you would, you have always been a better leader than that. When I had Breakdown we used to share punishments, not always for even a fabricated reason, and his larger frame could take far more of it than mine. Afterwards, he would always have to carry me back to our quarters, and he cared for me well. After I lost him, however, I lost all form of support and I began to truly see why Starscream is the traitorous glitch he is. If I was to succeed I was condemned and scorned for overconfidence and if I failed… well I'm sure you can imagine.
Dreadwing, Breakdown and I arrived on Earth loyal, Dreadwing being particularly devoted and honourable, far more so than the average Decepticon. However, this did not last for any of us, and we were in Megatron's close service a mere Earthern year or a little more, how could Starscream be expected to keep his faithfulness when he has barely left our Master's side in vorns?
I betrayed Megatron initially as I was left with little choice. Starscream was… well he knew my weak spots we shall say and exploited them as any member of our faction would. Not just my vanity, but my wish at the time for Breakdown's security. You see Tarn, when I was with you all, my loyalty was to you. You saw my markings, you know I remember, and I have never denied it. But Breakdown had held my affection for longer than I care to think about, and he held my spark- still does- not Megatron. Our Lord was dying when I was summoned, far beyond any medic's help in truth. Do you understand now, the position I was in, even if you do not care? I had to protect myself and my partner, and an all but deactivated mech- Megatron or not- never commands more loyalty and thought than the living.
Dreadwing's loyalty was always to his twin but he still would never have betrayed Megatron until our Master condoned the defilement of his brother's corpse. How can a mech with so little empathy, even for our faction, who places so little value on his mechs, expect to retain their dedication?
I expect you would now throw Soundwave's designation in my faceplates. Fair enough. However, he has been Megatron's friend, his only friend who has remained true, since before the war began. He gets special treatment and always will for as long as they both still function. Not only that but Soundwave does not adhere to the unspoken rule of being a Decepticon in High Command. Everyone else, even Starscream to a degree, keeps the secrets of the others. We are loyal to one another if only because we fear the others telling our Master the truth about us. Therefore we have some form of camaraderie between us. Soundwave has never shared in, nor wished to share in this, and so has no loyalty either towards us or from us. He is Megatron's alone and, despite everything, I do not envy him that. I imagine it would be a very lonely existence to have Megatron be the only one you care for and vice versa.
You cannot lie to me Tarn. Even you put some value on Kaon, Vos, Helex and Tesarus. You have others apart from our Lord to be there for you, at your beck and call if nothing has changed. They would do absolutely anything for you, we both know that.
It has to be asked with the ever growing amount of mechs on your beloved List when it is the fault of the leader, and not of his soldiers.
After Starscream left, I imagine frustrated with Megatron and the war, I tried to be a good medic and scientist for our Lord, truly I did. But Megatron has grown increasingly cruel these last few meta-cycles and it quickly became impossible. The road to the Pit is paved with good intentions as it is said. It passed the point where my buffing is not only for cosmetic appearance, my protoform seeming to crumble before my optics and the need to hide such a weakness surpassing my desire to simply look my best. His folly, yes, his mistake cost me Breakdown, and I sit here now thinking of all I had when I heard and answered Starscream's call and realise that I have lost everything. Megatron has systematically destroyed all that I have ever valued and now seeks my spark as well.
We lost our planet again and he laughed Tarn. He is a fragging parasite who drains and destroys all he touches.
Do not get me wrong I would never have wished to be an Autobot; they have sensibilities I could never share. And I know factionless mechs seldom live long, particularly if they were once Decepticons as you hunt for them relentlessly. I am tired now Tarn and will put up no fight when we meet. I know I asked for an orn to simply drive, race, but I find my tanks too unsettled for it. I would most likely purge if I were to attempt to move now. I suppose it is fear, in fact I know it is, and dread. But I know there is no avoiding this and to try and do so would be the height of stupidity. Do you like that I am afraid of you…? No matter I suppose, it will not change things. You never had any care for me; not really, that you come for me now proves it.
You will pretend to regret it, mock me with the words you will use to kill me. I have been given tasters of what my execution will be like and I know well what is going to happen to me. And you must know I am tempted to end it on my own terms. I seem to lack the will though. Another crime on my tally then, cowardice. If this was a game I would be doing rather well.
You know how much I love speed, how could I ever consider your offer of being in essence a living pile of scrap held together by threadbare wires? I would rather face deactivation than be ruined and used in such a way, you must know that.
One last night cycle and I am wasting it writing a letter that will probably never be read. Though the stars are bright enough and the desert is gorgeous I suppose. And it is quiet. That will be something I look forward to you ending, the silence, it fills my helm like the roar of an ocean. I must be going mad as I just laughed out loud. I'm going to have five mech's unadulterated attention for quite some time I would wager. Not such a bad prospect normally. I have no wish to play with you all, however, as it is a game I could never win and so would be no fun for me. You have an unfair advantage of course, five against one. And your voice knows my spark so well you could catch it with less than a word. But I will play as you would never allow me to run and hide from you, or to try and regain my former place.
Nor do I truly want it. Any remnants of my wish to serve Megatron well was destroyed Tarn, the moment he added me to your List. In doing so he betrayed me and while he may find my actions, irrational as his perception of them is, unforgivable, I also am disinclined to let go what he has done to me. He has taken even you all from me, turned you against me. But then you did so quite willingly and without question, so perhaps he did not take you from me, you just chose to leave me.
Game, set, match to you Tarn, as always.
Forever yours,
Knock Out.
Post Scriptum: There is a consignment of T-Cogs in a trunk beneath my berth for you.I hope one orn you will overcome your addiction Tarn, such a thing has never become you.
Tarn stopped reading, glancing over the top of the pad at Kaon who was stroking their medic, Knock Out's greyed and mutilated form curled into the blind mech's legs, previously crimson helm resting on the DJD member's chassis, as the electric chair held the unmoving, smaller mech.
It was not their doing, however. It seemed Knock Out had run afoul of an Autobot.
'Do you think,' Vos murmured, knowing only Tarn would understand him, 'that he did not put up a fight?'
The musician's burning optics scanned the broken form, noting the smile on Knock Out's lip components. 'Perhaps he did not.' Pushing the datapad into his subspace, he began to turn. 'It is no concern of ours. Kaon bring him so we might present him to Megatron.'
Moments later they passed through the swirling GroundBridge, their intended victim in tow. The night air they left was cool and still, apart from the blinking of two pools of blue in the darkness, a mile or so from where Knock Out's body had rested.
The previous orn.
Knock Out sped down the Nemesis corridors, tires squealing, as he tore around corners. Starscream, he commed after a moment's hesitation, they're here for us. If you value your plating I'd suggest you run. Now!
He didn't get a reply, nor did he expect one, only the boom of jet engines in the distance. Moments later, Starscream shot past him overhead, ignoring his shouts as the Seeker headed out into the open air, assumed a vertical angle and shot out into space. The medic's engines roared in rage, but he leapt of the lip of the Nemesis's opening, falling several feet to the ground, which he hit and without pausing slammed up through the gears as he fled.
240. 260. 300. 350mph.
His speedometer climbed even though Knock Out knew he could never be fast enough to actually get away. A comm ping from Tarn on their old private line send his spark swirling sickeningly, and he revved his engines harder as he tentatively answered it.
You need to face the consequences of your actions Knock Out. Trying to run away is foolish; you know that even better than most. The musician's voice trickled through his systems like icy water.
An orn Tarn? Knock Out pleaded back desperately, breathlessly as his energy was devoted to keeping up his speed. Only one orn, please?
You know I have been considering keeping a mech alive, as an example of course, for others to see when we come for them how they will meet their ends. I am sure you would fulfil that role most admirably. The voice held a deadly promise, as if Knock Out may not have a choice in the matter once the DJD caught up with him.
Knock Out expelled hot air, panic flashing through him at the image of himself as melted, haphazardly thrown together pieces of scrap almost made him purge. Ignoring the 'offer', he kept going, the world speeding by him in a blur. Allow me to explain myself?
One orn, Knock Out. Tarn purred through after a moment with an audible tinge of disappointment, for old times' sake. You can present your excuses to us then. Then the connection cut abruptly.
Knock Out didn't slow down until he was sure he wasn't being followed, many miles later. Transforming, he collapsed to the ground panting, noticing out of the corner of his optic the sun already beginning to set. Rolling on his front, taking deep ventilations of air, he stared up at the carefree birds in the sky and, out of spite and imagining them as Starscream, shot two down.
It didn't make him feel better and he snarled in frustration, then sagged as despair caught up with him. He had one orn to form some sort of plan, the only one he knew was available to him.
He would have to decide how he wanted to die.
Optics fixed on the darkening sky as his frame locked still, he remained that way almost the entire time as he thought through his precious few options. Death by DJD… His helm shook violently in instinctive reaction, denying it with his very spark. Killing himself was momentarily feasible until he realised he just couldn't do it and collapsed in on himself as optic fluid burned at the bottoms of his orbs.
Death by Autobot?
Slowly he sat up. Ratchet was supposed to be nearby, it was the reason the Nemesis had come to this area in the first place, Megatron was hunting the Autobot CMO. It was the closest plan he had to perfect.
First things first though, he needed to get his affairs in order. There were some things that he needed to say.
A cycle later, datapad safe in subspace, he took off, scanning for Autobot signatures as he drove, grateful that his speed capabilities allowed him to cover a great distance in a small amount of time. Midway through the night, he caught a signal on the edge of his radar and began to give chase, pinging it as soon as he got in visual range. He requested a meet, ostensibly begging for medical assistance. If Starscream could do it, why couldn't he?
Driving up and parking beside the stationary ambulance on an old dusty, deserted road, Knock Out paused awkwardly when no greeting was forthcoming then murmured, engines turning over in anxiety, 'I…I need your assistance…' No response, the older medic behaved as if he hadn't heard him. 'Do… do you believe in euthanasia Ratchet?'
Silence, then Ratchet transformed, Knock Out quickly following suit. The Autobot CMO, shadows in his optics that had never been there before, scanned the smaller mech. 'There is nothing wrong with you,' he scoffed, turning as if to leave.
'No! No, wait! You're the only one who'll do it… painlessly. Please…just…' Knock Out went silent as Ratchet's optics caught his.
'I repeat, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. No virus, no damage, nothing. Go home and leave me be.' Ratchet made a rolling gesture with his servo, sounding as tired as Knock Out felt, the larger frame was slouched as if the Autobot wished to reclaim his alt mode. Perhaps, he felt safer like that… less exposed.
'The DJD are here for me,' Knock Out forced out, 'do you have any idea what they are going to do with me? To me? Please just… one shot, that's all I'm asking.'
Ratchet's gaze locked itself on a distant mountain, lip components setting into a grim line. 'I…' He then turned to face the smaller mech fully, noting the desperation in the crimson mech's optics with a stressed sigh. 'Lay down.'
Knock Out hesitated then dropped as gracefully as he could manage to the ground.
Ratchet crouched beside him, servos hesitant as he reached for Knock Out's chassis. 'Curse you for putting me in this position,' he muttered then spoke a bit louder, forcing himself into a doctor's frame of thinking, 'if you bear your spark to me I could… disconnect your main lines. It shouldn't hurt… You may even feel warm.'
Knock Out's chest plates parted with a series of clinks. 'Thanks,' the medic looked away, 'could you… bury my spark somewhere? They'll feed it to Sparkeater if you don't.'
The CMO nodded, 'I intended to bury you, it is Autobot custom after all.'
'No,' Knock Out's optics dimmed, 'I need them to find something.'
The orange and white mech nodded with a slight hum, own orbs turning almost white as he focussed in on the wires and fuel lines beneath his digits, carefully avoiding Knock Out's faceplates.
Knock Out let out a soft puff of air as he felt Ratchet's manipulations of his systems, and he did indeed begin to feel warm, his processor did at least. Gradually as more of his systems were switched off, the crimson mech's shutters half-closed.
How strange it was… he was sure he could see a figure approaching them though Ratchet gave no reaction. The more he lost of his physical systems, the clearer the image became, until…
As the CMO snapped the last line, Knock Out grinned.
Come on little mech, let's get you home hmm?
Thanks for reading and please review.