Enter the Complimentary Follow-Up
Chapter Seven
For the twenty-sixth time, Knock Out found himself flat on his chestplate; Duststorm's knee-joint digging mercilessly into his upper back. The femme smiled.
"You're not a quick study, are you?"
"Get off me!" Knock Out growled, clipping in pain on the last syllable, "this is embarrassing enough without your sarcasm and you better not have scratched my paint!"
Duststorm scoffed as she obliged him, lifting off the mech and giving Breakdown a shrug. The blue warrior stepped over and hauled Knock Out up to his pedes. The medic rubbed at his sore neck-cables vigorously before gesturing to his back with a digit.
"Seriously, are there any scratches?" he asked. The larger mech shook his helm and thought about offering some advice to his new . . . boss? Comrade? Well, Knock Out, anyway.
"You leave yourself open after every offensive move. It's just as important to block as it is to land a blow."
"I'm sorry, I must have missed that bit of instruction while in the medical academy," Knock Out groused, causing Breakdown to frown. Duststorm sneered.
"You probably did . . . right after you dropped out."
The medic glared daggers at the sniper, making fists with his servos and grinding his dentition. She continued without even so much as a glance in his direction.
"You also seem to still lack a killer's instinct. Your strikes wouldn't have caused any real damage to your opponent. Is that something else you picked up from the academy?"
"As I said before, I'm not a fighter! My answer to this sort of thing is to drop down and get the slag out of there, not have my spark extinguished," Knock Out snapped before realizing how it would only fuel her argument. He brought two digits to the center of his helm as she vented.
"So, run away, that's the answer for everything with you, isn't it?!"
Breakdown quirked an optic ridge as he looked between the femme and mech in curiosity. He knew for sure there had to be a deeper history than they were letting on, but it didn't seem his place to ask; not now anyway.
The medic walked over to the nearest wall and leaned against it for support. He didn't feel like having this discussion now.
"Look, I'm exhausted . . . and, we're going into neutral territory for crying out loud, not a warzone. Can't we just pick this up at a later time?"
"No!" Duststorm shouted. Knock Out hung his helm a little lower.
"Come on, I'm sure we have a few cycles before we get there . . ." Knock Out began.
"Wake up! Tired or not, you've got to get ready for what's coming sooner or later," Duststorm exclaimed sternly as she stamped up to the red-colored mech. Knock Out rolled his optics, but something about the tone of her voice bothered Breakdown. It spoke of urgency and desperation; something uncommon to Decepticon leadership.
"Lieutenant Duststorm? I understand being ready for anything and that Knock Out needs a lot of practice, no offense . . ."
"None taken," the medic smirked as he lifted his helm again.
"But this is kind of a low-key mission. We're just going in to recruit some doctors . . ."
"Surgeons," Knock Out corrected quickly. Breakdown gave the medic a dry look before continuing.
"Right, surgeons. Why all the fuss over such a small operation?"
The sniper was just about to answer when Knock Out gave a short burst of laughter. Both warriors stared at the medic who was trying to quiet his mirth with a closed fist over his mouth. His red optics darted between the two exasperated fighters, baffled as to how they missed the pun.
"Get it? . . . surgeons, small operation . . . huh?" the overfatigued doctor chuckled.
"You really are tired," Breakdown stated simply, nearly forgetting what the point of his questioning was.
"This is hopeless!" Duststorm fumed, throwing her arms in the air, spinning away from them in a show of frustration before turning back, "Fine! Fine, let's skip offensive training and focus on defense. At least if you're going to run away, you can learn how to do it properly."
It was Knock Out's turn to worry as he finally pushed himself off the wall and stood up as straight as possible.
"You're expecting a fight while we're there, aren't you?"
"It's more than likely and, with your luck, Knocks, it's a fact. You can't stand there and tell me you haven't noticed the fighting spreading further north," she stated tolerantly. Knock Out's features shifted to stoicism. He knew for Duststorm to be this patient; she was being serious. He still didn't want to have this conversation again, but she wasn't going to give him a choice.
"It's not a game, Knock Out! The neutral territories aren't safe! Pretty soon, they won't exist at all. You can't afford to pretend none of this is happening anymore, no one can!" Duststorm ranted. The medic narrowed his optics, but quickly diverted them to the floor; a gesture Breakdown had seen from the medic before; back when the red mech was being grilled by Onslaught.
"I'm not blind, Duststorm!" Knock Out snapped in anger, raising his helm again, "Trust me, no one's more aware of what's going on than I am . . ."
"And yet, you're still holding on to the illusion that you'll be able to give us the slip and return to neutrality," the sniper interrupted, "I know you!"
"So, what if I am?! It doesn't change the fact I'm stuck here, now does it?! I'm tired, ill-prepared . . . Look, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to win, but you're right. This . . ." Knock Out exclaimed, gesturing around the training room with a servo, ". . . is hopeless. I'm not going to learn a vorn's worth of combat in one cycle!"
"He's right," Breakdown stated, drawing both their attention. They had nearly forgotten the towering mech was there.
"Well, that's both supportive and insulting," Knock Out drawled with a half-smirk. Breakdown chose to ignore him. He addressed the femme instead.
"But he won't be going into this alone. I'll be there with him."
Duststorm regarded the blue warrior with an air of consideration before answering.
"Yes, but the Decepticons aren't in the habit of assigning bodyguards for long. He needs to be able to watch his own back and yours, not turn tailpipe and run like a coward," the sniper stated as she gave a scathing glance to the medic. Knock Out's plating tensed but before he could respond, Breakdown lifted a servo to stop him. The blue warrior was surprised the medic actually heeded the directive, even if it was by the red mech crossing his arms in an irritated huff.
Breakdown already knew the medic was a coward; Knock Out was a lot of things. Independent-minded, self-centered, clever, sarcastic, likable, brazen, polite, apologetic, spirited, impetuous, competent, resourceful, and the list went on. All the same, Breakdown knew what he wanted to say.
"I've seen him work under pressure and I think you have, too. When push comes to shove, I think he'll be able to manage it."
"Hmm, under pressure . . . yes," Duststorm mused as she placed a digit to her communication relay, "Firebreaker. Deadheat. Meet me in the sparring room."
There was a pause as she listened to their responses. Knock Out gave Breakdown a curious glance as he uncrossed his arms. Duststorm smirked.
"We have a newbie," she said into the link.
"What are you up to?" Knock Out asked warily as Duststorm gave him a suspiciously sweet smile.
"Giving you a little push," she said while the doors to the training suite suddenly opened. The first mech to enter was of average height with purple-green plating and an aerodynamic frame. The second mech to follow was more intimidating with red and blue armor showing a taller and more solidly built speed-type. Each lacked a mouthguard which was a relief to the medic, but the fact they came so quickly at the word newbie did nothing to ease his anxiety.
"Breakdown?" the first mech asked upon spotting the blue warrior while the second came up beside them.
"Hey, Firebreaker. Deadheat," Breakdown greeted as he noticed Knock Out move in behind him, out of sight. He could hear the medic's nervous venting and felt sympathetic. The warrior knew exactly what direction this was taking. He also knew there was little he could do about it; if he could do anything at all. Maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut.
Firebreaker turned to face the femme with an incredulous stance.
"Are you joking, Duststorm?" he asked in a tone of irritation, "Breakdown's not new to the Decepticons or combat . . ."
"I think she might mean fancy fenders standing there behind Breakdown," Deadheat stated dryly. Firebreaker leaned to his left and locked optics with Knock Out. The medic didn't care much for the predatorial spark in the other's expression.
"Ah, interesting," Firebreaker hummed.
"Knock Out here needs a challenging workout . . ." Duststorm began until the doctor interrupted boldly.
"No, I don't!" he exclaimed, stepping out of Breakdown's shadow, "What I need is for you to show me sickbay so I can familiarize myself with the actual reason I'm on this ship!" he demanded firmly; a desperate attempt to leverage his position with confidence. Breakdown shook his helm solemnly, but held a stern face, hoping for the doctor's sake this ploy worked, because if not . . .
"Wait, isn't there some kind of rule or code about scrapping with medics?" Deadheat inquired, giving Duststorm a dubious look. Knock Out beamed in triumph until . . .
"Not as far as Megatron's concerned. The medic's got to be combat-ready, same as anyone else," she responded casually, making sure her cunning smile was seen. Deadheat turned back to the decidedly less confident-looking doctor.
"Well, drags to be you, Knock Out," he stated, punching a fist into an open servo. Knock Out unconsciously brought his arms up in front of him and stepped backward. He didn't like the way this was turning out.
"But, but, but . . ."
"He also tends to run, so I'm going to engage the gauntlet lockdown," Duststorm stated as she pressed in a sequence of figures on the door panel.
"Oh, it's been a while since we've had a runner," Firebreaker grinned widely.
"Okay, Stormy! You've made your point! I get it now!" Knock Out snapped, raising his arms in fearful agitation as his optics darted between the soldiers fanning out around him. The femme scoffed.
"No, you don't. But you're going to. Knuckleduster, fellas, and I don't mind a knockdown, ground and pound approach, understood?" she stated pointedly. Knock Out took another step back in confusion as he realized Breakdown was facing him with a look of dismay and guilt. It caused the pit in the medic's tank to double in size.
"Breakdown? Knuckleduster? Ground and pound? What's going on?!"
"Wow! He is new. Poor wreck," Firebreaker laughed cruelly, causing Knock Out to cringe.
The warriors closed in around the medic; all but one. Breakdown let out a sharp whistle, grabbing everyone's attention. Duststorm was livid, but, for once, the blue warrior didn't seem to care.
"Hey! I agree to the training, Lieutenant Commander, because he needs it but I'm not for a free-for-all beatdown . . . And I don't think you can help him best from this side of the fight either," he stated a little less confidently, directing his gaze to the visibly fuming sniper while trying to ignore the snickers of Firebreaker and Deadheat.
"I suppose you have a point, Breakdown," she mused, taking slow, deliberate steps towards Knock Out's side, "but, remember, the Autobots aren't going to pull punches and neither will I if you challenge me again."
Breakdown gave a short nod of acknowledgment. Duststorm looked to the medic who still wore a look of confused panic but seemed to be reeling it in. She followed his line of sight to Breakdown who was in the process of giving a more supportive nod. She sighed.
"This'll be a fistfight, Knock Out," the femme said, turning to face the red mech again, "A training exercise to practice your defense skills. Your opponents will come at you one at a time, to spar only."
"What?!" both Firebreaker and Deadheat cried in disappointed unison. The sniper disregarded them.
"And we'll go three consecutive rounds. That'll give you direct exposure to different fighting styles."
"Lucky me," Knock Out said dimly as his mind conjured up images of back-alley brawls he'd witnessed throughout the orbital cycles. He was grateful Breakdown had been able to switch up the tone, but it didn't remedy the situation. He still didn't know how to defend himself well, he was extremely tired and there was nowhere in here to run or hide.
"Right. Now, get into a fighting stance!" Duststorm ordered as she used a leg to separate his. The medic lost balance momentarily before quickly snapping upright with his arms on guard in front of him.
"This is like the start of a bad joke," Knock Out griped, "Imagine, you come aboard a ship, and everyone lines up to take a swing at you. That's the punchline."
Breakdown smiled at the pun. Duststorm rolled her optics before continuing.
"Remember, present the smallest target to your opponent, straddle the line, protect your helm, keep up that guard. Firebreaker, let's go!"
Knock Out shuttered his optics as the purple warrior came running at him. Everything he'd just learned about defense flittered out the window. The medic let out a yelp as he scrambled backward madly, attempting to sprint off for the opposite side of the arena.
"Nope! Stop!" Duststorm shouted, raising one servo to halt Firebreaker's advance while grabbing Knock Out's shoulder plating with the other.
"This is a bad joke," Firebreaker stated, shaking his helm as Deadheat laughed. Duststorm gestured for Firebreaker to back up before maneuvering a panicky Knock Out back into a fighting stance.
"If you run again, I will rip your legs off and beat you with them myself," Duststorm threatened, "Now, stand and fight!"
Firebreaker came charging once more. Knock Out still couldn't remember a lick of that defense training. Nevertheless, something besides running away came to the front of his brain module; a short class he took on dealing with combative patients. As Firebreaker swung with his first hook, Knock Out blocked it with his forearm. The medic could faintly hear the droning voice of his instructor telling him . . .
The swings will probably keep coming . . .
So, the medic raised his other forearm to block the incoming swing from the opposite side. Duststorm raised an optic ridge. Knock Out heard another tiresome instruction.
Put distance between you and them . . .
Knock Out timed his backward steps for each jab and hook, lessening the impact of each blow and throwing his opponent off balance. Deadheat stopped laughing.
Keep your helm back . . . use your arms to push theirs out and away . . . keep moving until they tire out . . . circle, don't let them corner you.
Firebreaker laid off his assault, giving the doctor a reasonably surprised look.
"Not bad."
"Not bad? Not bad!? You probably scraped every last bit of paint off my arms! How is that not bad?!" Knock Out balked, inspecting said appendages frantically. Breakdown couldn't help but grin and shake his helm. For everything the little medic revealed himself to be, he was still a trip.
Firecracker turned back to Duststorm with a chuckle.
"I thought you said this guy had no fighting experience."
"No, I said he needed a challenge," Duststorm snarked. Firebreaker frowned but she continued before he could cut in.
"I am impressed though, Knock Out. Maybe it's not as hopeless as we thought, but, just in case, let's step it up, huh?" the femme stated as she waved for Deadheat to come over.
"Um, let's not and say we did," Knock Out recoiled as Firebreaker glowered at him before stepping back.
"No worries, doc," Deadheat said as he drew closer to tower over the medic, "I'll try to keep this short and sweet."
"Don't call me doc-yah!" Knock Out yapped as he barely escaped an uppercut from the larger warrior. Stumbling back, the medic wasn't so fortunate when Deadheat grabbed one of his flailing servos and pulled him face-first into a waiting elbow joint. The impact sent the doctor's visuals flickering wildly, but he was more concerned that he was being pulled into a helmlock. More concerning still was the fact he couldn't remember how to get out of one, so, he improvised.
Nabbing the offending arm around his neck-cables with both servos, Knock Out stepped in towards his aggressor, catching Deadheat off guard. The medic felt the other mech's grip loosen and seized the opportunity. Pulling down on the appendage, Knock Out used it as leverage to twirl away from Deadheat in what looked more like a dance move than a fighting maneuver.
It worked on getting the medic out of the situation and before Deadheat could retaliate, Knock Out dropped down into vehicle mode, gunned it between his opponent's legs, and sprang back up into root form, facing his attacker in one fluid motion. What the doctor hadn't counted on was Deadheat anticipating his next move. Breakdown had.
"Knock Out, watch it!" the blue warrior shouted but it was too late. Deadheat rotated and nabbed the medic's wrist mid-punch. Knock Out let out a sharp cry of pain as the warrior applied vice-like pressure on the joint and twisted it mercilessly. All semblance of grace in the medic's demeanor shattered into panic-stricken fear as he felt his elbow begin to hinge back. He was trapped in a wrist lock.
"Stop, please don't!" Knock Out begged as he was brought down to one knee by the overextension of his arm. The plea fell on deaf audile receptors. Deadheat raised an arm back to deliver a punch to the medic's helm.
"I did say I was going to make this short and sweet," the warrior said with a smirk. To everyone's surprise, Knock Out suddenly pitched forward with his whole frame. The medic grasped the offending hand over his wrist with his free servo and spun in towards Deadheat to release the hold. The move caused the taller mech, in the process of mid-swing, to lose balance. Deadheat was sent forward while Knock Out was whipped back.
The two mechs held on at the wrists, one using the contact to remain on his pedes while the other employed it to get onto his. Knock Out didn't have long to enjoy the solid ground beneath him, however, as Deadheat quickly strengthened his hold on the medic's wrist and began to go into a spin of his own. This elicited a yawl from the doctor as his legs flew off the arena floor.
"Put me down this instant, you maniac!" Knock Out shouted in a mixture of terror and anger as the warrior swung the medic in a wild orbit around himself.
"Sure thing, doc," Deadheat said as he let go of the hold and sent the doctor sailing through the air, catching Firebreaker right in the chest. Both mechs went tumbling to the ground hard, sprawling out in their respective heaps.
"We did say it was going to be a knockdown fight," Deadheat laughed. Firebreaker wasn't as amused. He'd already been shown up by the newbie; he sure wasn't going to take any guff from Deadheat.
"I'll show you a knockdown, drag-out fight," the purple-green warrior fumed as he stood up and looked to Knock Out still prone on his back. Firebreaker figured he could scratch two glitch mice with one ore.
"Oh, Stars! Not again!" Knock Out cried as Firebreaker bent down and hauled the medic up by the chassis. The doctor couldn't help but thrash his arms and legs in protest as he was raised above Firebreaker's helm.
"What is wrong with you!?" Knock Out yawled as he was once more launched into the air towards Deadheat. For the second time, the medic found himself dazed on the floor with another angry warrior. This time, however, he didn't stick around for the retaliation. Transforming into alt mode, Knock Out raced off towards the door. This didn't go without provoking the err of Duststorm.
"Hey! I said no running away!" she hollered, transforming into her own vehicular form and giving chase. Not wishing to miss out on a good hunt, Firebreaker also transformed and took off after the medic. Deadheat didn't bother with running after Knock Out but instead switched out his servos for arm blades. The arena was small and it didn't leave much room for the medic to outmaneuver his pursuers. It allowed Deadheat the opportunity to take a swing at the doctor with each pass.
"Time out! Time out!" Knock Out shouted frantically over screaming engines and squealing tires while drifting hysterically around Deadheat to avoid being struck.
"There won't be any timeouts on the battlefield!" Duststorm shouted back, heading the medic off and trying to herd him back towards Deadheat and Firebreaker. Knock Out made a sharp U-turn, instead, and shot towards the only point of refuge he had; Breakdown.
Before the blue warrior knew it, he had three cybertronian vehicles roaring donuts around him while Deadheat took swipes at the red car in the lineup. Breakdown knew from experience, Decepticon training was always a hit or miss thing. Either you impressed your superior officer with one of your ruthless skills or things got wildly out of control with a free-for-all smackdown. It was apparent, this was the latter. It usually meant every cybertronian for themselves which made what happened next out of the ordinary.
"Breakdown, ah, need a little help here! Bring the hammer down on these lunatics!" Knock Out pleaded over their communication link. The warrior hesitated out of shock. Decepticon fighters didn't ask for help during sparring practice; it was a sign of weakness. For anyone else, Breakdown wouldn't have entertained the thought of helping; might have even laughed and used his hammer on them. But for Knock Out . . .
"Turn left now!" he pinged back, exchanging his servos for hammers. The medic obediently turned out of the circle as Breakdown brought the mallets down in front of Firebreaker and Duststorm. The two erratically swerved to avoid colliding with the sudden obstacles but ended up sliding right into Deadheat.
"What the . . .?!" the red warrior cried as he toppled forward onto the frames of the others. Breakdown looked down at the dazed warriors for a moment, impressed at how effective that maneuver worked.
"Hey, Breakdown! I'm getting out of here!" he heard Knock Out yell. The blue warrior looked up to see the doctor standing in root form by the door panel, tapping feverishly at the controls. Within moments, the doors slid open. Duststorm, still pinned under Deadheat, vented in frustration.
"How on Cybertron were you able to override the gauntlet code!? Get back here!"
"Look, Duststorm, I enjoyed bettering myself and whatnot, but it's time for me to find that sickbay now," Knock Out announced as he scrambled out the exit. The rest of the warriors looked to Breakdown in a mix of confusion and anger.
The blue warrior shrugged sheepishly. He figured it was never destined to be low-octane with the doctor.