"Absolutely not. Under no circumstances." Ratchet folded his arms over his chest. "It was bad enough having to coming patch up his aft for intelligence. You think I'm going to degrade myself, helping Starscream of all bots, for free?"
Knock Out didn't comment on how he had always known there was no way Starscream could have kept himself that safe while he was out on his own without someone patching him up. He knew the comment would only agitate Ratchet more, and that was something he didn't need right now.
Really, he'd expected this kind of reaction from the crotchety old medic. The minute that Magnus came through the space bridge, carrying the broken seeker in his arms, Ratchet had flipped out, asking Knock Out if this was some kind of joke. When Knock Out assured him that, no, he was indeed very serious, and instructed Magnus to set Starscream on an empty berth, Ratchet had been shocked. Once Knock Out asked for his help, then Ratchet went right back into curmudgeon-mode.
"If I recall correctly, this is the same bot you betrayed to join us," Ratchet said, as Knock Out hooked a life support tube to Starscream's chest. He'd finally had to put the seeker into medically-induced stasis lock, so he now slumbered somewhat peacefully, Knock Out's hands moving in a flurry above him.
"What's your point?" Knock Out asked as he secured the tube with the clamps at the end.
"My point is that you owe him nothing," Ratchet replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You said so yourself."
Knock Out's hands stilled for a moment. He recalled quite vividly what he'd said when he finally turned on Starscream. Even if I had helped him seize this ship, he probably would have pushed me out of the first airlock. He quickly started working again. There wasn't any time for him to start ruminating on what had been done.
Ratchet continued, "You know that if your positions had been reversed, he would have gladly left you to die if it meant saving his own plating."
"I know," Knock Out said simply. Oh, he knew.
He secured another tube, this one near Starscream's right shoulder. There was a large tear there that Knock Out hadn't noticed in the gloom of the abandoned base. The tube would supply energon to Starscream's depleted systems as well as keep various dirt and grime out of the hole until he could patch it. He'd have to go digging for some suitable scrap metal later, maybe even try to figure out what he was going to do about that bum wing.
Ratchet seemed to read his thoughts. "You don't honestly think that Magnus is going to let you waste valuable scrap metal on him, do you?"
The thought had crossed Knock Out's mind, and the truth of it was pretty overwhelming. He knew that Ratchet wasn't the only one not happy about this. Word had spread quickly of Starscream being back on the Nemesis, and they'd had their fair share of gawkers in the last hour or so. Everyone, from nosy Vehicon grunts to Acree and Bulkhead, who only wanted to shoot nasty looks at the broken bot on the berth, had been in to confirm it.
So far, Magnus had been fairly quiet on the subject of Starscream's fate. He hadn't objected when Knock Out ordered him to set Starscream down on a berth so he could begin repairs. And surely he wouldn't have even bothered to bring Starscream here at all unless he wanted to let Knock Out help him. Right? Unless he just wanted Starscream alive to throw him in the brig on war crimes. Come to think of it, that was probably the most logical course of action.
"Honestly, Knock Out," Ratchet said, his tone gaining a strange, gentle tone to it. He almost sounded like he was trying to be fatherly. "What do you have to gain by helping him anyway?"
The question pierced him, and he was once again glad he wasn't facing Ratchet head on, so the older medic wouldn't see the minute crack in his determinedly set features. Still, Knock Out squared his shoulders and said crisply, "Frankly, I don't care what Magnus will or won't allow me to do. I'm going to repair Starscream, whether he or anyone else likes it or not. Now, if you're not going to do anything useful, then get out of my medbay."
"Your medbay," Ratchet said incredulously. "Need I remind you that I'm a medic too?"
"It was my medbay before you ever showed up, gramps," Knock Out snapped, finally turning his attention from Starscream to shoot Ratchet a venomous gaze. "Now, out!"
Ratchet seemed taken aback by the sudden snippiness, but evidently decided it was no longer worth arguing about. He just gave a "humph" and walked out. Knock Out knew he could very well go tattling to Magnus about how the rude little Decepticon mouthed off to him and was wasting valuable resources on a war criminal, but at the moment, he didn't care. He just continued hooking up the last of the life support tubes, annoyance guiding his hand.
For now, he wouldn't worry about Ratchet or Ultra Magnus or any other bot on this ship that wasn't the one in front of him. The one that needed him right now, because he didn't have anyone else. He picked up his soldering iron, the white hot tip glowing, preparing to seal the smaller cuts peppered about Starscream's frame.
Ratchet had asked him what he had to gain helping Starscream, and really, Knock Out couldn't rightly say.
When Knock Out heard the familiar footfalls of Ultra Magnus hours later, he just knew that he was in trouble.
He was sitting at his work bench, several bits of scrap piled by his feet. He worked his buzz saw down the side of a larger sheet, cutting off the excess to toss aside. After sealing all the wounds that he could with his soldering iron, he'd decided that Starscream was getting a steady enough supply of energon to be left for a while. Just in case, he'd managed to convince a passing Vehicon to watch over the prone seeker while he was gone. He distrusted the other Autobots just enough to think they'd try something if they got the chance.
He'd made several trips to the storage area where the Decepticons had kept their scrap and spare parts. It'd taken a few hours to find all the pieces he needed and enough metal to maybe fashion a replacement for the wing. He'd started working on that first, thinking that, if he got the most daunting project out of the way, the rest would feel like a breeze. Plus, if he got the wing done, he wouldn't have to worry about flight withdrawal when Starscream eventually came out of stasis.
For winged Cybertronians, flight was as basic an instinct as drawing breath. They needed to fly, and if they ever lost that ability, the medics needed to work fast to restore it. If they didn't, the flier could be beset by any number of problems - physical things like fever, chills, and purging, to mental things like hallucinations, intense anger, and even full-blown psychotic episodes. Rare cases showed them just resigning themselves to a corner and not coming out for anything, which led to recharge and energon deprivation. All of these symptoms were completely inexplicable. No science had ever explained why they happened, and the only known cure was to mend the wing and restore flight. And Primus help you if that couldn't be accomplished.
A broken wing like this could almost be viewed as a death sentence during the war, because scrap metal, even what was cannibalized from the dead, was scarce. Most of the time, the crippled fliers were just put out of their misery quickly and efficiently, so they wouldn't have to waste away, slowly and painfully.
Knock Out shuddered to remember all the unfortunate fliers he'd seen during the war. Some were lucky and had their wings repaired. Most were not.
He'd shaken his head and turned up the power on his saw to drive the sudden flashes of shrieking fliers and single blaster shots from his mind. But neither of those things had drowned out the sound of Ultra Magnus entering the medbay.
Knock Out was sure that the commander would tell him to take all the scrap and parts back, and never even think about going back there again. In fact, he would probably be stripped of his post, most likely at the behest of Ratchet, because he was obstinate and disrespectful and, really, how could you trust a former Decepticon who wanted to help the worst Decepticon of them all?
He let the saw whine to a stop as the footsteps ceased, and he let it change back to a hand. Now, the only sound within the medbay was the steady beeping of a life support machine. Gently, he set the metal sheet on the work table, still warm from the friction caused by the saw. The schematics for a sleek seeker wing were pulled up on the computer screen in front of him. He thought about turning it off, just knowing that it wasn't going to see any use. Knock Out inhaled deeply, and turned to Magnus to face the music.
When he did, though, he was a bit perplexed to find Magnus' attention not on him. Instead, the commander looked past him, over his shoulder, at the schematic. Knock Out wondered if the military mech even really comprehended what he was looking at. Maybe, if he didn't, he wouldn't think Knock Out was working on replacing Starscream's wing and he'd be left to work in peace.
"How long do you think it will take to fashion this replacement wing, doctor?"
Well, frag. He supposed there was always begging.
Knock Out tried to project an air of casual ambivalence. "It all depends," he said, flicking his wrist. "I think I've got enough scrap to construct something about the same size as Screamer's old one, but when it comes to wings, it's really all about width and shape. If I don't have the right amount of metal to mold into the wing and create an exact replica of the one that's intact, it'll throw him off balance when he flies." Knock Out felt his mouth twitch into an earnest smile as he added, "And goodness knows that Starscream would pitch such a fit if he couldn't show off what a dandy flier he was."
To his ever-lasting shock and amazement, Ultra Magnus also smiled at the quip. It was an oddly pleasing sight. Knock Out noticed that smile bring about, for the first time since he'd met Magnus, a loss of the ever-present tension in his frame, as if the smile was letting it all bleed out.
Ultra Magnus' tone was even light and airy as he told Knock Out, "Then I wish you luck in your endeavors."
Knock Out couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You mean…you're going to let me fix him? You're going to let me fix Starscream?"
Magnus simply nodded.
"But what about the others," Knock Out asked. "Surely, they're not happy about this. I mean, Ratchet alone…"
Magnus interrupted, saying, "Ratchet is the reason I'm here now. He told me about your… "fool's errand", I believe he called it, and accused you of wasting precious scrap on someone who didn't deserve it. I decided to investigate his claims myself."
Knock Out snorted, "I knew that old clunker would go squealing to you. Honestly, some people are far too sensitive when it comes to comments about their age."
The corner of Magnus' mouth twitched again, and Knock Out realized he was trying not to laugh. He had succeeded in saying something Ultra Magnus of all bots thought was funny. He almost wished Soundwave were still around and operating the multitude of cameras aboard this ship. Without that proof, no one was ever going to believe this.
After Magnus had composed himself, he said, "Although I do not commend the disrespect towards a senior officer, I do find that your efforts are not as big a waste as Ratchet or any other bot on this vessel would like me to believe. I am well aware that Starscream has done many abhorrent things, things for which other bots desire recompense. But I am not interested in sating any vengeances, doctor."
Knock Out smiled, possibly one of the most sincere of his entire life. "Thank you, Magnus," he said. After a moment, he added, "Sir." He thought this time, the commander deserved the title.
Magnus returned the smile. Knock Out ruminated, for a brief moment, that he looked so much better now. The sadness he carried himself with seemed to be gone entirely, and it did him a world of good.
Knock Out returned to his work bench and picked the metal sheet back up. Really, looking at it in comparison to the schematic, he didn't have that much far to go to get it in to the right parameters. He felt Magnus' presence move in closer to the screen, studying the picture of the wing and the measurements specific to Starscream on them.
"I'm actually pretty close to getting it the right size," Knock Out explained. He saw Magnus give him a sidelong glance. "Just a few more cuts, and it should be done. The excess will probably come in handy in shaping it. It'll get a bit tougher from there, since I'll have to cut as I go to make sure it's the same thickness."
"When do you think Starscream will emerge from stasis?"
Knock Out shrugged and answered casually, "Whenever his body thinks it has enough energon to regain consciousness. That's how stasis lock works. Your body shuts down so systems unnecessary to healing don't use what little fuel you have left. All that's left going is your pump and your processor. Handy failsafe, as long as you've got a way to refuel once it happens."
"Will he require any further bedrest after he emerges from stasis?"
"Hopefully, not too much. I'm hoping to get the wing finished before then. They're such sensitive appendages that reattaching one while a seeker is awake is like trying to give an Earth feline a bath."
"A what?" Knock Out looked over to Magnus, who was now looking at him with immense confusion.
"What 'what'? The felines or the bath?" Knock Out tried to keep the mirth from his voice. It didn't exactly work.
"…both," Magnus answered. Was that shyness in his voice? "I'm afraid that I'm a bit uneducated about Earth humor. I still have yet to find out what a 'kilt' is."
This time, Knock Out couldn't help but laugh. "Well, when we both have a free hour," he said, changing his hand back to a buzz saw, "remind me to pull up some videos I have about earth felines. The humans practically worship them. Personally, I wouldn't mind coexisting with a species that spends all day recharging and grooming itself. I can certainly relate."
Ultra Magnus let out a low, rumbling chuckle. Knock Out had to admit to himself that it was a pleasant sound. He wondered if anyone else had ever managed to make him laugh so spontaneously like that.
"In relation to my earlier question, doctor," Magnus continued, "if you're planning on attaching the wings before Starscream awakens from stasis, will you performing any other operations along with them?"
"Well, from what I can tell, he mostly just needs patches, and a few joints replaced. There's actually a lot less internal damage than I thought, , if you can believe it from the state he was in. Just some tears here or there that should heal on their own. Depending on when he wakes up, those minor things might keep him on the berth for a few days to heal properly."
Magnus gave a nod. "I'll have the Vehicons prepare the brig as soon as you give the word, doctor."
Knock Out froze, and turned his head towards Magnus again. "What do you mean, prepare the brig?"
"For Starscream," Magnus replied. "He'll be a great asset for us as we welcome refugees back to Cybertron. The intelligence we can glean from him will be most useful in finding any other Decepticon war criminals."
Knock Out set the metal down again, a little more forcefully than he meant to. It hit the workbench with a loud clang, jostling tools and spooking Magnus enough to make him back away. Knock Out struggled to keep an even tone as he asked, "Are you telling me the only reason I'm being allowed to repair Starscream is so you can lock him up and use him for locking up more people?"
Ultra Magnus raised his hand and hook in a placating gesture, and said, "Knock Out, please try to understand this from a military standpoint. Decepticons are currently back in Cybertron's orbit. Decepticons who, unlike you, have not heard of Megatron dissolving their faction or that the war has effectively ended. Shockwave is still at large, with three Predacons at his disposal. Starscream is currently the only one with the information to keep these forces at bay."
Anger that Knock Out didn't fully understand surged through him. He knew that Ultra Magnus was right. Starscream did have information that no other Decepticon did. He knew things about the inner workings of the ranks that was usually only reserved for Megatron himself. Any special forces or secret plans that Megatron had, Starscream had typically been privy to that information as second in command. And then there was the matter that Ratchet had reminded him of, and that kept plaguing Knock Out's own thoughts - the only reason Knock Out was even here was because he betrayed Starscream. Why would he care how Starscream was treated by the side he now considered himself a part of? Especially after everything he'd been through at the seeker's hand. True, Starscream was in a pretty poor condition right now, but that didn't excuse anything. A few nasty wounds didn't erase a lifetime of carnage. Starscream deserved to be thrown in the brig, hard knocks or not. The fact did little to help the rising rage.
Acid dripped from his words as he asked, "And what exactly were you planning on doing if these big, bad Decepticons came back and you didn't have Starscream to feed you intel?"
Magnus tried to hide his shame as he said, "They would have been incarcerated, and then interrogated for their intelligence. Knock Out, they would have been war criminals. They helped perpetuate slaughter and genocide. There was no way they could just be allowed to roam free."
"And if they didn't cough up what they knew, what would you do then? Torture them?"
"Of course not," Magnus said defensively. "I told you, this is not a mission of vengeance."
"Maybe not for you, Magnus," Knock Out said, jabbing a claw in the commander's direction, "but think about how many of your shiny, upstanding Autobots have more than enough reason to indulge their own bloodlust. Arcee has already tried to kill Starscream once, and there's the mound of angst she's got going with Airachnid. The only thing keeping Wheeljack from skewering me is you telling him he can't, and Bulkhead's one temper tantrum away from jumping in and joining him. Smokescreen almost makes a game out of slagging Vehicons! Do you honestly think that, if you locked them in a room with a defiant Decepticon, they wouldn't give in?"
Magnus did not reply. For another few minutes, the beeping of the life support machines was the only thing that broke the hostile silence.
Knock Out huffed and grumbled, "Yeah, that's exactly what I thought."
He knew he should stop. If his intention had been to beg and plead with Ultra Magnus to reconsider his stance, he was doing a piss poor job of it. But there was just something about the way Magnus wouldn't look him in the eye that made that anger surge through him harder, made him want to tear away at all the Autobot hypocrisy that he was just so damn tired of.
"After all," he added, "what would Optimus say in a situation like this? 'Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. Unless you really don't like them, then just frag that freedom tripe.'"
If Knock Out had been in a clearer state of mind, he would have sworn he saw a quick flash of hurt mar the commander's features. In a clearer state of mind, and taking into account how chummy they'd been getting in the past few minutes, he would have stopped the verbal onslaught, apologized, blamed his nerves, explained himself, maybe even begged forgiveness for being such an aft. But he wasn't in a clearer state of mind. He didn't even bother giving Magnus the chance to defend himself.
As soon as the commander opened his mouth, the pain in his eyes evident, Knock Out said, "No. You've said quite enough. Now, get out. I'll repair Starscream. I'll repair him so you can lock him up to help you land everything right back where this mess of a war started. Just. Get. Out."
Magnus' massive shoulders slumped. He was silent as he turned and left the medbay, and Knock Out could see the rigidness slowly creep back into his frame. He didn't care right now. Magnus could deal with it himself. He could suck lugnuts for all he cared.
Knock Out stomped back over to his workbench, and grabbed the metal sheet up in his hands again. He squeezed it hard, like he was trying to strangle it, even though he'd never leave so much as a scratch in the thick sheet. After a few minutes of just standing there, with a stranglehold on this hunk of scrap, his hands began to tremble, and Knock Out let it fall from his grip, and gave a quiet, frustrated cry.
In the silence that followed, over the beeping of the machines and the pounding of his spark in his ears, he heard a tiny sound. It was a rasp, a breath of air, but it was unmistakable, as shocked as he was to hear it.
"Knock Out," Starscream called weakly from the berth.