Chapter 1 – Rehabilitation
Dirge came storming into his room the moment he heard things crashing and breaking. Possessions of his—old, new, gifted, stolen and bought—all scattered across the spacious berth and floor, some in pieces while others were completely disintegrated.
The medic, since emerging from stasis, had gone berserk. Upon seeing his possessions at the mercy of the mad doctor's weapons, Dirge immediately lunged to seize Knock Out by the shoulder and neck, slamming him hard against the wall.
He should have known better than to take the medic's lack of consciousness (and stature) for granted. Grounders were never a threat to a massive jet like him but he hadn't expected someone so puny would be capable of causing such irreversible damage.
If Dirge hadn't been so distracted with counting his inventory and energon supplies, he would have had time to strip the medic off of his integrated surgical tools and kept him sedated.
"You're breaking my things! My things!" the teal clone roared. "Nobody breaks my stuff but me!" Yellow wings marked with red stripes flared out in anger. Dirge gritted his dentae and growled menacingly at the medic. While he wouldn't hesitate to kill, he couldn't risk disobeying Swindle's orders. There was a reward to be had for good behaviour and Dirge was never one to waste such an opportunity.
That was perhaps one of the clone's redeeming qualities. Despite his greed, Dirge learned fast and he knew better than to repeat mistakes.
His show of dominance over the red medic however had caused him to be spat at in the face. Dirge glanced away, before slowly returning his gaze at Knock Out, with his glossa sticking out of his mouth and licking the glob of lubricant smeared across his lips.
"Heh. Is that all you got? Come on. The more you resist, the more I get! So give! Give me your best shot!"
Knock Out growled, optics wild and bright red with rage. "I'm no medic. I'm a scientist!"
"You're a mindless brute, that's what you are!" Dirge tightened his grip around the medic's neck. "Let me teach you a lesson or two about manners and respecting other people's property. Especially mine! What will it take to break you down, medic? How about a few scratches on that pretty finish of yours? Or better yet, I can cut you open, hang you upside down from the ceiling and bathe myself in your vital fluids. I'm sure you taste good. Oooh, I know you do…"
"You wouldn't dare…"
"Oh I would…"
Knock Out snorted derisively. "You think you could finish me off so easily?"
"Instantaneously. But…I won't…not today. Best you remember that I'm the one Swindle calls to take care of unfinished business. Stubborn, dangerous people. Like you. I'm the mech who makes them pay."
Dirge leaned closer, expelling warm, foul air at the medic's pristine face as he spoke, "And I'm going to make you pay for every single thing you broke. Everything."
"Can we leave now?" Thrust asked as he watched Swindle restlessly from the flight deck. They'd been flying around for hours in a cruiser and waiting for Dirge's cue to return to base.
"Not yet," came Swindle's reply. Unfazed by his lackey's impatience, the dealer continued to enjoy his glass of spiced highgrade while comfortably seated in the lounge area's sofa.
"Why did you leave Dirge alone with the medic?" Thrust asked again. "You know what he's —"
"Capable of? Of course."
"Then what if—"
"You think I don't know what I'm doing? Dirge is well aware of the consequences," Swindle said, sounding slightly annoyed. He then turned to look at Thrust. "I'll rip his shard out if he dares forces himself on my medic. I want Knock Out subdued, not violated."
So you trust him, Thrust had wanted to say. You trust Dirge more than you'll ever trust me.
Silence filled the space between them.
Swindle returned to sulking in the lounge while Thrust settled himself back on the pilot seat. It's always hard to tell what Swindle was up to and all he could do was to comply. And so he did. And said nothing more.
There was jealousy. And there was that fear of not having things the way it used to be.
Thrust could feel it in his shard. That he was no longer Swindle's favourite bodyguard.
On the outside, Swindle seemed indifferent, yet secretly, it pained him to see Knock Out this way. So brutally punished and marred. But it had to be done.
To be rid of the beast, you would first have to let him surrender to his greatest opponent.
Fear. In its avaricious, unrepentant form.
To instil it for the sake of regaining another's trust, another's dependence, and then finally—with Knock Out's defences broken down completely—it was time to put the medic back on the road to recovery.
This was Swindle's way of maintaining order amongst his crew. In the midst of instability, it was his stoic demeanour that's keeping everything in place.
He watched as Knock Out shuddered in fear, content with curling himself up into a tight ball in a pool of his own vital fluids.
The plan worked. Dirge would screw things up and Knock Out would get himself hurt. It triggered something that had made it easier for Swindle to work his way through the medic.
Swindle smiled.
"I can fix you," he said, extending a servo that was quickly rejected by Knock Out's cautious stare. "Psh. Don't look at me like that. How do you think I've gone this far without a medic, hm? I've been taking care of myself long before you and the clones showed up."
"It—it wasn't me." Knock Out sputtered, energon dripping from corner of his mouth. "I didn't do it. I—I didn't do anything, I swear! Please. Stop staring at me! I can't…"
Keeping his gaze on Knock Out, Swindle knelt closer. "It's alright," he said, with a tone mellowed with such rare sincerity. "All you have to do is say yes. To working for me. To doing everything I tell you to. Then I'll never let Dirge lay a talon on you ever again. You have my word. And my protection."
He left the medic an option with no option. An escape with no way out. Either way, Knock Out was never leaving the ship. The medic was far too valuable to be set free.
Stoic. Determined. Things were going according to plan.
Swindle knew he'd gained the medic's trust as he saw him reaching out for his hand.
He reached back.