A glimpse at the stunticons during the war for cybertron.
AN- Keep in mind that the rating has gone up
Originally this was going to include snippets of everyone's relic hunts and focus mainly on Optimus and Breakdown's drama in the arctic.
This chapter did not go anywhere near that plan.
This chapter is also almost all flashback. Violence, murder, and unhealthy behavior is pretty rampant in both flashback sections.
In other words, this is not a happy chapter.
Also, in the Aligned Continuity, apparently Dead End is green and yellow instead of dark red. I'm...less than pleased with this new aesthetic, but that's what we go with here.
And apparently Aligned-verse Wildrider is obsessed with Wheeljack.
He hadn't been tagging along with this group for very long. Less than a vorn, really. There were only a few reasons he had stuck around.
First being how much of his time and energy he had devoted to the one mech. Mods, training, buffing sessions. Knock Out would hate to just leave all that effort behind.
Second was the occupational safety being around five much stronger mechs gave him. And he did like to be safe.
Or as safe as he could feel around a group that felt like a ticking bomb.
And finally, it was entertaining enough. It certainly kept him busy and gave him the fun he needed to keep himself occupied. If he wasn't occupied? Then it was too easy to see how the world around him burned. It was too easy to remember that Velicitron, with its med school and race tracks, had been reduced to wastes.
So entertainment was a bit of a priority.
And this group did make it come.
Didn't the scene a few meters away from him prove that?
Normally, wreckers were too dangerous for Knock Out to want to be anywhere near. But this group of four? They were no threat to him at all. Not with the stunticons that stood prowling around them.
It was a good catch. There was a skinny mech, taller for his frame size. Since Knock Out tended to think of wreckers as the big, burly type, this sniper struck him as odd. Then there was the stereotypical big wrecker; a green round one who kept straining against the stasis cuffs and electric bonds. That one had butted heads with Breakdown in the past and the blue stunticon was buzzing with satisfied energy at seeing him defeated. There was a gray wrecker with a hideous face who looked like he should've been yelling taunts and dares. The mech was quiet instead. Well, Knock Out couldn't exactly say he could blame him. This was a pretty obvious situation and their fates were pretty obviously sealed as well.
The last wrecker was brown and yellow and only a bit smaller than the gray one. He was growling at anyone who stepped in too close. Knock Out let his saw blade drift over one rusty cheek for good measure when the wrecker tried snarling at him as he passed.
All in all, a small enough group for them to keep contained and a large enough catch to milk out a good cycles worth of entertainment from.
"Stop playing-" the same mech snapped at the circling stunticons. "You ain't getting information from us, so get on with it."
Such bravery.
Knock Out stepped close to Breakdown and the blue mech patted his back (carefully; the red mech had taught him not to dare scratch his paint). At the start, the other had tried to protect him from the violence of the unit.
They'd learned soon enough that they could bask in it instead.
"Why ruin the fun?" Breakdown retorted, moving his servo back from Knock Out to pound his fists together. The gray wrecker flinched at the noise, though the sniper remained stoically unphased.
For however long that would last. Knock Out knew it wouldn't be forever. Every stoic mech had a snapping point.
"You fragger!" the green mech yelled at him. His arms tugged frantically at cuffs that were strong enough to hold the Big M himself down.
Breaking away from the circle of prowling mechs, Wildrider slipped closer to the huddle of autobots. The stunticon stopped at the pedes of Breakdown's rival and looked down at him quizzically. His processor was likely trying to latch on some thought instead of flowing distracted in the state he tended to.
"You're one of Wheeljack's pals, aren't you?" Wildrider leaned down into the green autobots face. The wrecker's cringe back came to a short stop when his head hit anothers.
"Ooh-" the gray stunticon brushed his claws over the other's jaw and pulled his chin up. It left the wide neck exposed. "I bet," Wildrider whispered right against the wrecker's audials- "I bet he'd be just so hurt if you were hurt. Am I right?"
Little more than a nano of silence passed before the stunticon had reared up in fury. "Well?" he snapped and landed a kick at the autobot's leg. "Am I? Don't make me waste my time pulling you apart if he won't be sparkbroken over it!"
And that was a perfect way for him to answer, was it? It wasn't like this bot could just say he didn't care at all about 'Wheeljack', the autobot Wildrider was so completely obsessed with that he had taken a nearly identical altmode, and spare himself the brunt of the stunticon's anger. Oh no, that wasn't an option at all.
Knock Out shook his head. Wildrider truly was an idiot.
Although none of the stunticons exactly had a genius among them. Really, it was one of the perks of travelling with the group; Knock Out always had the assurement that he would be the smartest in the room.
Heatseeker rolled his shoulders with a resounding 'crack'. "Come on. I'm bored. Let's toast one."
Every other decepticon in the area formed the exact same smile. The wreckers bristled up.
"Alright," Wildrider rubbed his servos together and finally stepped away from the pile of autobots. "Which one first? Your pick, Dead End-"
"No."
"-Your pick-" the lunatic adjusted smoothly and turned from the nihilistic con to face the red medic. "Darling doctor."
Oh? Knock Out reeled from being included for just a moment. The stunticons, following their commander Motormaster's lead, tended to pretend he didn't exist. This was one of those rare times they not only remembered him, but included him...
And Knock Out did like to feel included.
He cast his glance over the pile of tense wreckers. Hm, there was always the one Breakdown disliked. But this was too anticlimactic. His assistant deserved a more fitting end to that rivalry. There were the two quiet wreckers. Either of them would be suitably terrified to be chosen.
Oh, but that rusty one had been annoyingly loud for the last half a jour. Knock Out lifted a manicured finger and pointed at the mech.
There was a beat of silence. Then the wreckers were fighting their restraints with far more passion. The soon-to-be dead mech bit at the stunticons that grabbed his shoulders. Soft metal bent under his jaws but Wildrider hardly seemed to notice any pain.
The chosen wrecker was thrown down a few meters from the other three and the stunticons went wild. Knock Out was able to dive in and out of the chaos, jabbing with his prod, but his size made it hard to truly belong with these mechs.
Heatseeker punched Wildrider away and the mad mech rolled up to his pedes with a fury. While the culprit raised a servo to shoot a missile into the bleeding wrecker, his ally ran full force into him. As those two grappled, Breakdown moved over the fallen autobot.
The other wreckers were shouting; threatening them, pleading for them to leave their compatriot alone, the works. Breakdown let one arm rest on his crouching leg; the servo was positioned directly over the injured wrecker's head.
"Why should I?" the blue mech asked.
It was the green wrecker that answered. His call was hard to hear over the sound of Wildrider and Heatseeker scuffling, but Breakdown heard it nonetheless. "Just fight me. Let Oxide go. Your fight's with me."
Stupid wrecker. Knock Out rolled his optics. The blue stunticon seemed to consider it.
"Seems fair, I guess," he said and the green wrecker's face went from horror to hope. Breakdown moved up from his crouch slowly, almost standing, hammer still in the air, and-
The stunticon dropped down into the crouch with deadly speed. The weapon dropped with all the same forced and crashed through the head of the autobot. A spurt of static left the crushed helm; it mixed with the sounds of grief and rage coming from the other three wreckers.
Breakdown lifted his dripping hammer and looked at the remaining autobots.
"Oops. How clumsy of me."
The green mech howled in anger. Big arms strained against the stasis cuffs to no avail. The skinny wrecker looked away from the carnage in wild grief.
Ah, Knock Out loved this mech. The rest of them...not so much.
"Oh, would you stop?" Dead End looked up from inspecting his own servos to hiss at the noise the big wrecker was making. "Get over it. Everyone dies."
"I'LL KILL YOU!" the green wrecker screamed at him. It only made the wiry stunticon tilt his head to the side.
It wasn't a look Knock Out liked to see on Dead End.
Although that mech just unsettled him no matter what he was doing.
"I'll be dead sooner or later," the stunticon countered darkly, "But I think you'll be offlined first."
And that should have been the case. It really should have.
But that was a cycle where nothing happened as it should have.
A grenade rolled into the still scuffling stunticons. They paused their fight, looked at it, and then panicked. Both tangled and untangled together to get away before it exploded.
The blast still caught them in the back. Heatseeker howled in pain. Wildrider was cackling with laughter even as his back was a mess of burnt metal and impaled shrapnel.
Dead End slid into combat readiness. The green mech's blank face twitched to catch sight of the attackers.
But Knock Out had a bad feeling he already knew who it was. Wreckers.
And then the small white fighter leaped over a nearby half wall and sprinted towards them. Both swords were already out and his battle mask kept his expression from being all that readable. The wrecker ran to the green mech's side and was immediately feeling him over in concern before turning his furious stare on the still standing decepticons.
A large orange mech charged through the half wall, breaking it and never stalling in his stride. Ironhide. Oh, Knock Out did not want to be here when that guy was.
More and more wreckers appeared in the gap that Ironhide had made in the wall. Breakdown had backed away from Oxide's corpse until he was standing in front of Knock Out.
"Fight?" the blue mech asked.
That was probably what the stunticon wanted to do. But Knock Out?
He knew when he saw a losing battle.
"Drive," he answered and folded down into his alt mode. The two of them sped away without stalling to wait for the other stunticons.
The equator was disgusting.
Knock Out shivered at the feel of its sticky air. This was the type of humidity and temperature that was sure to peel his paint job.
Nearby, Bulkhead stretched overhead and then let his arms drop casually.
"So." There was a moment of silence. "Looks like we're here."
"Are you always so observant?" Knock Out replied and earned a glare. It didn't seem all that hostile though.
The awkward silence returned. Bulkhead walked forward a few steps and looked over the black rock covering the ground.
"See any relics?" he asked. The medic glanced about lazily before saying no.
"Huh." Bulkhead went thoughtful. Then he opened a comm line: "Base, we can't find any sight of the relic. Can you reconfirm coordinates?"
The voice of the human child Raf replied.
«Triangulating your position.»
They waited a nano for the triangulation to complete.
«You're at the correct location.»
The two shared a glance. Knock Out felt the urge to sigh. If only Hardshell, bragging idiot that he had been, had included more about where he'd found the ToxEn in his stories about 'killing the wrecker'.
"The coordinates must be wrong, 'cause there's nothing here," Bulkhead argued. Instead of joining in on the conversation, Knock Out started to walk over the cooled lava to look for anything remotely relic-like. Hmm. Yes, black rock. More black rock. My, my, was that a touch of gray?
"Hey, Doc Knock!" Bulkhead called over to him. The medic turned slowly, with an expression halfway between being amused at the nickname and offended.
"We got company," the wrecker finished.
Well, that was not the news he wanted to hear.
"Do we go for cover?" Knock Out asked. The green mech shrugged.
"Is that what you and Breakdown like to do? Naw," he shook his head, "We'll fight."
The purple jets overhead swooped down and Bulkhead transformed his servos to guns.
That was that, Knock Out supposed. He reached for his staff and spun it forward.
Looked like Bulkhead was a bit too much like his usual partner; both the big lugs had the annoying habit of sticking around to fight when they could just drive.
At this rate, finding the ToxEn was going to take longer than any of the other's hunts for the other relics.
And here Knock Out had so hoped for the two of them to arrive back at base first.
Motormaster was murderous. The giant of a mech prowled between his stunticons.
"You had four wreckers in your grasps," he seethed, "Four. Wreckers. The very enemies we were created to destroy. And you let the rest of the wreckers get them back alive?"
Hopping from one pede to the other in cooped up impatience, Wildrider rolled his optics.
"We killed one of 'em. And it was Wheeljack's fault. He showed up with his pals and blew the others away. If-"
"I DON'T CARE-" Motormaster backhanded the mad mech into the wall of the warehouse they were camped in. "I am SICK of your obsession with that mech. So Shut. Up. Another mention of his name and I'-"
Dead End sighed from where he was sitting. "And so we lose Wildrider. Oh well. He lasted longer than he should of."
The comment did not go unnoticed. Motormaster turned on him and stalked over. Purple optics were full of fury.
But then they moved up from the unflinching Dead End to meet Knock Out's. The commander slowed down. His persona grew calm and forcibly friendly. It made the medic shiver to see.
"Doctor." Motormaster smiled and motioned him forward. Knock Out had no desire to approach. But he took a few steps and Breakdown moved with him, positioning his bigger body in front as a protection. The commander's optics flickered from this defense to the medic and back. His smile stayed false and near breaking point.
"I heard from Heatseeker that you ran today," the giant said slowly. "I heard you left my boys behind and turned tail. And Breakdown-" he looked down at the blue mech and shook his head playfully. "I heard you followed. That's not what I want my troop to do. You know that, don't you?"
Breakdown didn't immediately respond. He was so tense that Knock Out swore he could feel it just by standing close by.
A huge servo motioned forward, then grabbed Breakdown's chassis and pulled him forward off the ground when the blue mech didn't obey fast enough. His assistant's orange faceplate was lifted closely to Motormaster's vicious one.
"Don't you?" the commander repeated sweetly.
"I-I-"
The servo that wasn't holding Breakdown up launched into the blue mech's gut. Knock Out heard mechanisms crack and snap.
"You piece of SLAG! Useless, paranoid, little coward!" Motormaster yelled and punched again. His claws found one of Breakdown's flailing arms and snapped it. The useless limb dangled from its shoulder while the blue mech screamed. "Turncoat! Traitor! Fragger!"
A fragment of his wide chassis tore off and clattered to the ground. Knock Out stared at it as if frozen. He could hear every clang, every hit, every garble of pain.
"You chose that weakling over your family!"
Oh. Now Motormaster was talking about him, wasn't he? The medic was still staring at the piece of armor.
He'd installed that armor onto Breakdown's chest. He'd modded the mech up until he had felt comfortable with himself.
Motormaster was still yelling. Nearby, Wildrider was sitting on the edge of a counter and giggling like mad. Dead End was watching the beating with uncharacteristic interest.
Another part of armor hit the ground. Another spray of energon flew from another opened vein. Breakdown was pounding at Motormaster's arms, but the commander would not lose his grip.
Knock Out tore his gaze away from the armor fragment and looked at the stunticons. One servo slipped into subspace and returned with the familiar feeling of his staff in his grip.
A quick stare was afforded the room. Obviously, either of the other two scrapheaps would attack if Motormaster was injured.
So they'd need to go first.
Besides. They'd ratted Breakdown out.
Before Wildrider noticed him, Knock Out was at his side. The staff slid deep into his gut and unleashed high voltage.
Of course, normally debilitating pain never did keep the gray stunticon down. Knock Out transformed his free servo into his spinning saw blade and cut deep into the crazed mech's chest.
Moving forward, Dead End moved to attack him. Knock Out ducked under his swipe of the claws and swung his blade arm across the other mech's chassis. As Dead End backstepped, a sound of something large dropping occurred behind him. The medic paid no attention. He moved in quick until he was behind the sickly green mech and had grabbed at his helm.
From here, Knock Out could see Motormaster where the giant mech was standing. The stunticon leader was frozen in shock. Both his servos, stained with Breakdown's energon, were empty and his optics were wide.
"No..." he murmured, looking over the fallen Wildrider and then at Knock Out's handling of Dead End. The medic's saw blade had moved to rest against the stunticon's neck. "Doctor, stop-" Motormaster tried. Though Knock Out couldn't say for sure, he felt like the confusion thick in the commanders voice was genuine. "Don't kill your own unit."
What a high position to sit on after he'd just spent the last few moments tearing Breakdown apart. Knock Out grinned at the big mech and tore his blade through Dead End's unresisting neck.
"Why not?" the medic asked as he stepped over the twitching body. "Seems perfectly normal around here to me."
"You fragger!" Motormaster roared and all the previous anger returned. "You were one of us!"
Really? Really? He was trying to play into a loyalty Knock Out had never once pretended to have?
The medic twirled his staff up again to face down the much larger mech. Motormaster snarled and clenched his fists. On the ground, Breakdown spat fluids and looked at Knock Out desperately.
Probably expected the medic to disappoint him. That's what this unit did. Over and over, they had to have been disappointing Breakdown.
Well, Knock Out wouldn't. Knock Out was far above any of these scrapheaps. And he'd show it to Breakdown too.
He'd show him what real affection looked like and bask in the worship the blue mech would, in turn, pour on him.
And the first way he'd show him that real affection?
It would be to tear apart this mech who'd lorded over the stunticons for far too long.
Motormaster swung first. The hit would have caved in his chest and offlined his spark if it had landed. Knock Out knew it. He knew he couldn't afford to let the mech hit him once.
But he so wanted to drag this out.
The staff buried in one of Motormaster's ankle joints and lit up. The leg crumpled and the giant roared. Knock Out pulled his staff free before Motormaster could twist and tear it out.
It hit across the big mech's face and left a line of burnt metal in its wake. The other slapped a servo to his cheek and felt at the burn.
"You-little-"
Whatever he was going to heave out next, Knock Out didn't care to hear. He shoved the staff into Motormaster's shoulder and let it run. Watching such a large mech twitch and writhe to high voltage was even better than playing with those wreckers earlier.
Knock Out let the voltage wear down. Motormaster heaved on the ground. It was to the medic's immense satisfaction when the stunticon leader unconsciously flinched back from his approach.
"You...you sick...little..." Motormaster hissed. One optic was blackened. Aw, whoops, look at that; seems Knock Out had the electricity on a bit too high. His grin returned. The one good optic looked around blurrily until it found his red shape. "Knew...knew you were...sick...seeing what...you'd do...to...to...injured 'bots."
The medic finally arrived. One servo curled around the staff still buried in the stunticon. He gave it a little push and pull just to watch the giant squirm.
"No, no," Knock Out's smile grew wider. "This is so much more fun than it was with those autobots."
This was what he'd wanted to do since day one. This was what he wanted to do every time he saw Motormaster tear apart his own mechs until they screamed.
The stunticons were never safe for him. They didn't like the medic. He was too new. Didn't belong. Too soft. A wannabe.
Only Breakdown adored him. Only Breakdown worshipped him.
And the blue mech treated him like Knock Out was the best thing to ever happen to the stunticons. After being trapped with their fragger of a leader, he had to agree.
He'd only stuck around in this unit for Breakdown's sake. But now?
Knock Out tugged his staff free after the mech had fallen into stasis and subspaced it. He walked away from Motormaster until he was standing by his assistant.
Both yellow optics were firmly focused on him and not his fallen leader.
Good.
Breakdown didn't need to worry about this stupid unit anymore. He didn't need to worry about his awful 'brothers' or dangerous commander.
From now on, Breakdown was his to protect. From now on, Knock Out was the only squadmate Breakdown needed to be concerned about.
This, this mess of pain and betrayal and abuse, was what happened when Breakdown was allowed to pick his own family.
Knock Out would chose the rest from hereon out.
And really, he scoffed, what was the point of these stupid units anyways? The only mech Breakdown needed was Knock Out alone.
AN- Aligned's Dead End and Wildrider are mentioned in "Unreliable Narratives", a script reading. They both are in the Skyquake Pre-Memorial Hospital, critically injured, and are requested by Shockwave as test subjects.
Since it's never said what exactly put them there, it was free game for this chapter.
That said, this doesn't bother to follow the timeline of that script reading all that closely. I fully accept that there are inevitable inconsistencies with the Aligned Continuity Timeline.