Knock Out stormed off of the lift, entering the dark belly of the Nemesis. Solid black walls surrounded him, only illuminated by the faint overhead lighting and the glow of monitoring stations. The bleak interior design was not the mech's taste, but Decepticon engineering was built to be practical and efficient and nothing more. And he supposed he shouldn't expect luxurious flourishing, considering the great warship was constructed from the chassis of one the mightiest Cybertronians in history.
The medic ignored the bustle of Vehicons unloading and stocking the scores of energon collected from the mine, alone. Instead, he effortlessly slipped through the chaos, eager not to be noticed. Not only was it likely one would report his disappearance to Lord Megatron, but Knock Out would not stand being seen in such a horrid state.
He could not understand how a planet with such a lively culture and beautiful views, could be so filthy. His once pristine, shiny finish was covered with mud, that had dried to a cakey layer over his rims. His grill was clogged with the guts and exoskeletons of itty bitty organic insects. Oh, no, that was not the worst of it. No, it was the fact that his plating was ruined. Ugly, misshapen scratches marred the Decepticon's hide, scraping off paint and metal like. His door-arm and side were heavily dented, enough that it muddled his equilibrium, causing a slight limp.
Knock Out knew a groundbridge was far more practical-and more salvageable to his valuable paint job-but far more costly. If Megatron ever found out his medic was using precious energon to go on another excursion, well, the Decepticons wouldn't have a medic. So, the mech begrudgingly took the long way home.
It filled the mech with frustration and humiliation. Tonight was supposed to go over quickly, another victory to add to his ever growing winning streak. A quick drive, a quick race, and a quick decontamination shower. After cycles and cycles of being cooped up with unpleasant company, it was supposed to be a relief. He was built to be a speedster, after all.
And what better way to release pent up energy than friendly competition. Until that abominable Corvette happened. It was flashy and fast, for sure, but as always, the driver had no skill. To prove as such, the fleshling had slammed into him in a desperate, petty attempt to win the race. When that had failed, the adolescent proceeded to throw a temper tantrum.
"You slagging DIRTBAG!"
Hmm, curious. Knock Out replayed the recording, trying to make certain he heard that right. A Cybertronian profanity that humans were not generally privy to. He wondered if it was worth investigating. Lord Megatron did order his subordinates to report and follow any and all leads to the Autobots. However, Knock Out doubted a human's slur counted.
For such a small, simple species, the organic race had too many languages to count, and even more dialects. His translation program could only do so much. It could have been something as simple as a glitch in his programming. In addition, the speedster would have to report to his lord that he was on a jaunt he was not supposed to have gone on, so he was not mingling among humans just to race against their primitive technology. Nope.
Knock Out was close to his med bay. Oh, his processor was glitching with images of a nice, warm wash, followed by a complete new detail and polishing. Detailing was so much easier when Breakdown was around, but he could make do with what he had-
"And where have you been?"
Scrap. And he was so close, too.
"Just out getting some fresh air, Starscream," Knock Out replied casually, dismissively. It was a human phrase, so not surprising, the second-in-command did not humor it.
The Air Commander blocked his path to his laboratory. He stood tall on his too-high thrusters, his wings raised wide and high, and his long, sharp talons were curled behind his back. Starscream's crimson gaze was predatory, like a scavenger searching for a meal.
"Oh?" It not even a single syllable, just an ex-vent, yet it spoke volumes. Like the gaze of a greedy vulture, the Seeker's optics roamed over Knock Out's disheveled visage. "And when you went 'out,' did you fall from the ship?"
"Erm, no. You see-"
"You have been racing amongst the humans again, haven't you?"
Knock Out deflated, realizing he had been caught red-handed, as the humans say. "I am an automobile enthusiast. I like to pride myself with having adequate knowledge of all manner of vehicles, in the benefit of the Decepticon cause, of course, as-"
"Lord Megatron has requested an audience with you on bridge."
Knock Out froze. "Over-"
"Yes."
Oh, he was so fragged. It was never a good thing if Megatron personally summoned a mech. Never.
Starscream must have seen his panicked look, and relished it. He leaned in close, purring, "I would hurry, if I were you."
It was the first time in Knock Out's life he didn't want to hurry. But he was wiser than to keep his vengeful lord waiting. He quickly rounded on his heels, retreating from Starscream's amused snickers, and made his way to the bridge. The Decepticon believed he hurried, but it seemed eternity had passed before he finally found himself before the sealed doors of the command center.
Summoning whatever was left of his courage, he stepped through the doors. As always, the bridge of the Nemesis was alive with activity. Screens covered the entire walls, with Cybertronian text scrolling across them. Dozens of drones took up the stations, typing away to forward orders or merely monitoring a strand of data. The front of the bridge was taken up by a gigantic screen. Usually it projected a view of whatever lay before the warship, but now it was splinted with multiple feeds, most of them showing the mining operation below.
In the center of the bridge was a single console, used to navigate the gigantic vessel and relay commands to every deck. Instead of a lowly drone, posted at its head was a tall, intimidating figure. Silver armor curled in sharp spikes, with long, deadly talons curled behind a broad back. Knock Out dared to approach the warframe, promptly dropping to a knee and laying a clawed servo over his spark.
"You summoned me, my lord?" he hummed, bowing his head humbly.
"There was an incursion by the Autobots today," Lord Megatron replied with his own statement, his deep, gravelly tone dangerously calm. "Several of my soldiers were wounded. Yet you were nowhere to be found."
Scrap. Couldn't the Autobots wait until he at least returned from his unsanctioned field trip? Knock Out desperately tried to come up with an excuse, but he wasn't as clever as Starscream.
"How… unfortunate," he decided on, carefully choosing his words.
"Yes, considering two of them succumbed to their injuries. Now I will have to waste valuable time and resources recycling their chassis into functioning frames."
Finally Megatron turned around, slowly. This audience would be on his time, not Knock Out's. The medic suppressed a shudder as those burning, crimson optics stared down at him. Scarred lips pulled back, revealing rows of fanged denta.
"Were my orders not clear, Knock Out?"
"No, my lord," he instantly replied, not daring to meet his leader's menacing glare.
"Then tell me why you were mingling with humans, instead of reporting to your post."
The words came out as a rumbling growl, the whisper of thunder before the coming storm. Megatron's hatred of humans was no secret. Not after he had spent a century in their greedy grasp, being torn apart for experiments and spare parts. So Knock Out did not dare say that the little fleshies were not that bad, instead taking a note from Starscream.
"It's a known fact that Autobots are fond of humans," Knock Out explained. "I was merely out on patrol, my lord, in search of any that may be hiding among them-"
He started when suddenly there was a deafening clang of metal, followed by several startled yelps of nearby drones. The Decepticon dared to glance up to see Megatron's curled servo against the console, leaving a sizeable dent that would not be easy to fix. His gaze traveled up higher, only to meet blazing, furious optics, wide and bright.
"You are my medic!" Megatron thundered. "Your place is on the ship! To treat my troops so we may keep any advantage over the Autobots. Should our numbers, our firepower, falter, my enemy could turn the scales of war into their favor!"
Knock Out knew it was wise to keep his intake shut. However, he was not a wise mech. "The Autobots are weak, my lord. They have kept their helms in their little hole since the battle in, er, Eject? No, Egypt!"
"Yet you waste my time instead of bringing me their heads!"
The lowly Decepticon flinched at the violent bellow, but did not dare rise or move. He was running out of things to say. He wished Megatron's femme pet was still around. She was the only one that could calm his violent tantrums, make him see reason. She made everyone's lives easier. But then those hypocritical Autobots found the location of Megatron's palace, and proceeded to blow it to scrap. Now everyone's lives were miserable.
The Decepticon medic would never forget that horrible day. If only he'd been able to reach her in time…
The crimson mech flinched when small bits of debris struck his plating from the detonation of a nearby grenade. The deafening booms of explosions, and the screams of the injured and dying filled the smoldering air, making it difficult to even ventilate. He ducked down behind the cover of a fallen pillar as stray energon bolts zipped past his helm.
Just meters away from where he was crouched, Starlight was fighting fiercely against three Autobot soldiers. She was doing well, holding them off on her own. Knockout did as his lord requested and kept a careful optic on her as he performed field triage on wounded Decepticon troops. There were only some he could save. Many of the wounded were too badly damaged to be repaired in time. Others were much more fortunate.
"Alright, soldier. You are battle-ready. Now, GO!" Knockout gestured strictly in the direction of where enemy troops were slowly trickling in.
The moderately repaired Vehicon leaped to his pedes, blaster in servo, limping to the frontlines. He was patched up well enough for a second round with the invaders. Knock Out's crimson optics glanced around at the carnage, wrought by the ugly, bloody, destruction of civil war. His helm snapped up seconds later when he heard the bellowing rally cry of Zeta Prime, leader of the Autobots. His cruel and fierce reputation rivaled that of Megatron himself.
Knock Out's optics widened when he saw Starlight turn to face the Prime. There were two Decepticon guards that joined her side. Knock Out's vocalizer froze up as paralyzing fear seized his spark. Inside, he was screaming. He stood up, leaving his current patient's side and ran towards the deadly scene with electrostaff twirling. Starlight brought up her weapon to parry Zeta's attack after he easily dispatched the two Decepticons at her side, but by then, it was already too late….
Knock Out was violently slapped back to reality when a large servo collided with his helm. He let out a pained yell as he was sent skidding across the ground, landing in a heap of twisted limbs.
"PAY ATTENTION WHEN I AM SPEAKING TO YOU!" Megatron bellowed with an enraged snarl. "You may as well explain to me how a racing excursion leads to this!"
The warlord gestured to Knock Out's scratched, dented, mangled frame, which the Decepticon would try to hide if he wasn't paralyzed by fear. It took several attempts to get his vocalizer to work.
"I-it's nothing serious, my lord, just a simple scratch," he dismissed, even though it was anything but simple. "Humans just tend to get overzealous."
Megatron's optics brightened. "You mean to tell me insects did this to you?"
"Well, rather, an automobile, with a flashy finish, if I do say myself-" He flinched as his master let out a deep growl. Knock Out released a nervous chuckle. "If it's any consolation, I did teach the fleshling a rather important lesson of humility and took the liberties to win the race."
He spoke rapidly, faster than he could, a fatal flaw for his frame type, as he realized too late he had said the wrong thing.
"So, you have time to gallivant amongst those human pests, yet you fail to complete your assigned duties?! In six cycles, you have not handed me a single Autobot!"
Knock Out flinched back, armor clamping down defensively to make himself as small as possible. This time he kept his intake shut, keeping his helm bowed low. He had learned the best way to survive Megatron's wrath was to stay out of his line of sight. Something, Starscream had yet to discover. He half-hoped the second-in-command would walk in at that moment, just so the Decepticon leader's attention would target something else. However, it was someone quite unexpected that was his savior.
"Lord Megatron, if I may offer a logical solution?"
Instantly Knock Out's plating crawled as slow, heavy pedes approached. Oh, as if things couldn't get any worse. Nothing good happened when Shockwave volunteered to be helpful.
The medic cautiously glanced over his shoulder at the hulking mech. Although Shockwave was not a gladiator-in fact, spending most of his life cycle in luxury-he was an intimidating heavy frame. Almost as tall as Megatron, his deep purple armor was almost black, and thick around his spark chamber. A gigantic barrel of a cannon made up his right arm, with a cable attaching the weapon to his spinal strut. But the most disturbing of all was that single, unblinking optic, always analyzing.
Knock Out hated when that optic looked at him, like Shockwave was trying to figure out the best way to cut him open. He wouldn't be surprised. But thankfully, the gaze was settled on Megatron, who looked back in interest.
"And what would that be, Shockwave?" Megatron demanded, his voice lowering an octave but still lined with danger.
"I understand military operations are out of my domain, but if I understand our current situation, the Autobots have remained in disarray since the loss of their leader," Shockwave explained matter-of-factly. "They are unorganized, and according to our surveillance, they have consistently failed to rally. The only time they appear to do so, is to raid our energon mines."
"Mind telling us something we don't know?" Knock Out drawled under his breath. Only when he was answered with two seething glares. However, Megatron was in no mood to be reminded of information he already knew.
"Your point, Shockwave?" the Decepticon demanded.
"It is only a logical conclusion the Autobots are dangerously low on energon reserves, and is the reason why they have committed such high-risk missions for little reward."
"So, that's your solution? Buff up the security around the mines?" Knock Out huffed.
"Quite the opposite, in fact," Shockwave replied, making his audience blink. "We lower the security, and we expose a large source of energon, as bait, of course."
It was then the chief engineer's words clicked into place. Knock Out blinked in surprise, while a wide, cruel smile spread across Megatron's faceplates.
"And should any Autobots take this bait?" the warlord asked.
"I will leave the details to my fellow lieutenant, Starscream."
"Very well. I expect to receive updates on Starscream's progress," Megatron's bristling armor slowly began to flatten, his demeanor shifting into one on the brink of being calm.
"It will be done, my lord." Shockwave marginally bowed his helm in respect before turning around and heading for the exit.
Knock Out dared himself to marginally relax as some of the fearsome titan's former rage began to diminish. He was a fool to think he was out of the woods as the humans would say. His spark leapt to his throat when Megatron snapped a glare in his direction the moment the bridge door swished closed behind Shockwave.
"YOU on the other hand…" Megatron trailed off as he took a menacing step towards the cowering, crimson mech. The vain Decepticon's optics widened in horror as he saw deadly talons raise into the air.
"No, no, please, my lord!" Knock Out begged, backpedaling on his pedes and servos, but it was no use. "Not the finish! Anything but the finish!"
"Rest assured, your punishment will simply be superficial."
The awful sounds of screeching metal filled the bridge of the Nemesis, swallowed up by Knock Out's wails of pain and dismay.
"HEY! TOUGH GUY! I'M TALKING TO YOU!"
Orion kept his focus on the nearby wall, not bothering to pay the drunken fool any attention. Apparently the newest addition to the main holding cell was an angry, violent drunk. He'd already attempted to pick a fight with some of the other detainees.
It was a sorry group of criminals, from the drunks to pickpockets to assaulters. All of them had picked their own little spot in the too cramped cell, shoulders slumped and heads low like a dog. No doubt they were cursing their rotten luck, just like Orion.
That cop just had to turn around the corner, just when Orion popped the door of that flashy BMW convertible. It wasn't like he was planning to do anything with it. He was just going to go for a spin around the block, and park it where he found it, still in one piece. He doubted the owner would care, as the man had vanished into the five star restaurant with his girlfriend that was half his age. But of course, Officer Stick-Up had it in for him.
Now he was stuck with Mr. Drunken-Breath.
"HEY! ARE YOU DEAF?!" the drunk screamed, storming across the cell. The other prisoners quickly cleared a path and returned to their pitiful positions by the corner.
"Yes," Orion mumbled, arms crossed over his chest, not turning attention to the man as he loomed over him. He twisted his face as the harsh smell of liquor hit him like a smack to the face, but said nothing.
"You think you're special or somethin'?"
"Yes. I'm not a dumbass like you."
"How do you figure? You're locked up in the slammer just like me," The drunk man scoffed with a sneer.
"At least I'm not the sorry, idiotic LOSER, who was arrested for being drunk off my ass."
The drunk's nostrils flared like a bull's, eyes going wide with rage. "You son of a-"
Without warning, the delinquent's curled up fist collided with Orion's temple. Stars exploded before Orion's eyes, the blow to his head sending him to the floor.
The young teen couldn't stop the hot, bubbling rage of severe annoyance from rising to the surface. A feral snarl crossed his face, glaring at the drunk sneering down at him. With a growl, he lunged to his feet. The boy grabbed the front of the man's shirt and slammed his head, face-first, against the thick, iron cell bars.
The drunk slid to the floor with a groan, out like a light. Orion smirked, satisfied of his accomplishment. He felt a great sense of pride when everyone moved out of his way as he returned to his original place on the hard metal bench. He pulled his hood down over his head, obscuring part of his face. He crossed his arms and rested his chin on his chest. Closing his eyes to rest, the teen was confident that no one else would dare to disturb him.
His short rest was not to last as he recognized the angry shouts of a very familiar woman echoing down the hall from the main lobby of the police station.
Oh no...
"You've put a juvenile with convicted felons, without first informing his guardian," Laurie ranted, her high heels clicking down the hall at a brisk pace.
"He didn't have an ID on him-" the voice of a nervous police officer replied, only to be cut off.
"So you caged him up like one of those animals?!"
Orion glanced up, peering from under his hood as he saw his case worker storm into the holding area. She was dressed in a stunning white blouse and a black skirt, looking professional and furious at the same time. A scowl was over her face, ignoring the existence of the man next to her. Oh, this did not bode well. The teenager quickly ducked his head, but it was too late.
"Orion!" Laurie barked, harsh enough that the poor boy jumped in his seat.
"Uh-oh! Someone's in trou-bull!" One of the inmates taunted in a sing-song voice from one of the corners.
Light snickers and chuckles reached his ears, making his face redden and he sunk into the bench. It felt like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It was embarrassing and made him feel like a small child in front of a bunch of strangers, when a moment ago he had though he had thought he proved his wished he could just disappear.
Laurie gave a pointed look to the guard, and there was a heavy clanking sound as the door was pulled open. Like there wasn't up to a dozen crooks in the room, the woman marched over to him and jerked his hood back.
Orion managed an awkward smile. "Hey, Laurie, what's up?"
"What do you think you're doing?" Her face softened for a moment as she briefly checked him over for any hidden injuries, demanding, "Are you okay?"
"I-I'm fine," the teenager stammered, and that seemed to satisfy the woman. Her glare returned.
"What did I say about behaving yourself?!"
"I did! I've been good, I've swear! I haven't start any fights-"
Orion pointedly ignored the snoring drunk on the floor and thankfully Laurie didn't even notice the man.
"Then explain to me how you got here!"
"I was just looking at this car! Then the cop just walks up to me and arrests me!"
When Laurie just cocked an eyebrow at him, "From what the officers told me, you did more than look."
"Defacing private property with intent to steal, to be precise," the guard by the door grumbled, but clipped his mouth shut when Laurie glared at him over her shoulder. Meanwhile, Orion only wailed.
"Are you serious?! That's a thing?"
His case worker turned her glare back at him. "It is, and you're lucky it's just a misdemeanor. If it had been grand theft, you would have to stand up to a judge. But with something like this, your bail is already posted. Kate is working it out as we speak."
Orion cringed. "...Kate's involved?"
"As she's your guardian, yes. And she's waiting for you outside."
Orion wasn't sure how he felt in that moment. It was the first time that any foster parent bailed him out of a mess he'd gotten himself into. Usually they would either leave him to the mercy of law enforcement, trusting he'd learn his lesson the hard way, or would simply label him a problem child and throw him back into the foster system.
"You are coming with me, right now. Let's go," she ordered sternly and waited for him to obey.
Still speechless, he didn't budge as his head began spinning with questions. Why would his new foster mother pay for his bail? Why did she come in person? Was it just to see him off so Laurie could take him back? Was there some mysterious ulterior motive for why she was being so generous? He was snapped out of his musings when the other prisoners began to heckle him.
"Better do what mommy tells you!" a prisoner sniggered from the back.
"Not such a tough guy, after all, eh?!"
"Is mama gonna kiss that owie on your head?"
Orion gritted his teeth with a low growl. He instinctively began to turn back, only for Laurie to snatch his arm in a tight grip and yank him forward. The sounds of their laughter faded behind them as Laurie half-dragged him to the front lobby where Kate was waiting.
The foster child expected a look of fury or even disdain, as so many of his so-called "guardian" showed when they found out they were given a juvenile delinquent. Instead, the woman showed a completely different expression.
Her lips were pulled in a frown and her eyes gleamed… with concern? The woman paced restlessly, her hair disheveled like either she didn't have time to fix it or she had been running her hands through it. It wasn't until Orion and Laurie drew near that the foster parent noticed him. Immediately her face lit up and she let out a relieved gasp.
"Oh, thank God!"
Without warning, Kate lunged forward. Adrenaline from his fight still in his veins, Orion braced, only to stiffen as the woman wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
"I was so worried!"
Orion was even more confused. She was… worried about him? For getting arrested? Wasn't she supposed to be mad? He fumbled for words as he rubbed the back of his neck feeling more than awkward.
"Aren't... you mad?"
"I'm furious with you!" Suddenly Kate pulled back, tightening her grip on his shoulders, but not painfully. "I was in the middle of a meeting when I got a call from the sheriff that you had been charged. Trying to steal a car? What were you thinking?!"
"I…" Orion opened his mouth, but feeling Laurie's eyes boring into him, he realized the same excuse wasn't going to work twice. "I wasn't going to hurt anybody…"
"Well, you did. You scared me and Laurie to death. Keith and Selah are worried sick."
Orion only blinked. "...Why?"
Kate scoffed as if he asked a ridiculous question. "Because you're part of our family now, Orion."
The teenager only stared. He could only count the number of times someone said that with a single hand, and it was usually said with a hint of a frustrated snarl. Yet Kate had spoken so sincere. The boy felt something in his chest twist uncomfortably, and he did not know why.
"So… you're not going to kick me out?"
Kate's eyes widened as if he'd grown two heads. "Of course not. You're coming home."
She said like it like was a simple concept, yet to Orion it was a foreign concept. He never had a home. But he couldn't find words to say as such, instead lowering his gaze to his feet. "Umm...uh...thanks...you know...for getting me out of jail."
His guardian smiled warmly and let out a sigh. "Well, don't make it a habit. Once we get home, you're grounded. For life."
Orion frowned with a growing look of horror. "But-"
"No buts. Car, now. It's late enough as it is."
With that, Kate whirled around, not waiting for a reply. Orion looked to Laurie for help, only for the case worker to reply with a stern look. Letting out a defeated sigh, the teenager trudged after his foster mother.
"Stay out of trouble, kiddo," Laurie called after Orion as she watched him exit the station. "IF you can manage it."
As they were walking towards where Kate's car was parked, Orion's thoughts were jostled by a whirr of a siren. He turned towards the source of the noise, only to be greeted by a sleek, bulky black and white police car, just about two car lengths away. A Mustang?
The car was parked beside the curb, looking no different than the other cruisers next to it. Yet Orion found his skin crawl at the sight. He shook his head. It was merely nerves, after the excitement of the day. He turned away, only to skim over the words emblazoned on the side. something incredibly odd.
"To Punish and Enslave..."