AN: I have been deliberating on how to pronounce Socin, and have come to a decision – it is henceforth to be pronounced, not SO-sin, but SO-kin. Thank you for reading.

Undisclosed Location:

"So, what went wrong this time?"

"Always so blunt, Ratchet," Knock Out smirked. "What makes you think something went wrong?"

"You mentioned Socin," The red-and-white mech responded. "You didn't go there did you?"

"Have faith, old friend," Knock Out seemed wounded by the accusation. "I would not be so foolish as to blow my cover like that. No, Starscream fled from Megatron and visited Tyger Pax and Socin. I am not aware of any way to effectively repair him without the possibility of severely crippling his flight capacity, and, as such, asked you for assistance in the matter."

"I will never get used to you talking like that," Ratchet muttered, turning Knock Out's energon prod in his hand, inspecting it thoroughly. "Who built this, Bulkhead?"

Offended, the red medic snatched it back. "I spent almost three millennia developing that!" He stroked it almost fondly before continuing, "I don't go around insulting your inventions!"

"No, but you do worse when you insist on compromising your mission!"

"I was just having a bit of fun."

"Your 'fun' as you call it could've gotten you killed!" Ratchet yelled. "What would I have done if you foolishly jumped into danger, and revealed your intentions to Megatron?"

"Find another double-agent," Knock Out muttered under his breath.

"You know I can't do that," Ratchet lamented sadly. "So far, you're the only Autobot smart – and by smart, I mean dumb enough to want to infiltrate the Decepticons' headquarters – enough to do the job."

"Geez, Ratchet, I feel so important to the Autobot cause," the red medic rolled his optics in a mocking gesture. "Why don't you just say it?"

Ratchet looked at him quizzically. "Say what?"

"Oh, come on, you know," Knock Out leaned against the cliffside. "That you think I should just drop the act and let someone else take over."

"Can we get back to the original topic of conversation now?"

"Why, uncomfortable that I know exactly what you are going to say even before you say it?"

"Can you shut up?"

"Let me think…" Knock Out pondered the question for a while, finally coming to a decision after three minutes. "…no."

Ratchet groaned. Yet again he was stuck with the most annoying 'bot in the universe. Always him. Always the crazy ones that wanted to be the double-agents. This time, the 'bot wasn't crazy – he was clinically insane – and if Ratchet had known that before he sent Knock Out to infiltrate the Nemesis, he would've sent someone else.

"Okay … anybody home?" The smug voice once again shattered Ratchet's concentration.

"The red ones are the dumbest," the older mech shoved his former apprentice, sending him stumbling to the ground.

"And… he's back." Knock Out pulled himself to his feet, completely oblivious to the joke at his expense. "Good. Now, about repairing Starscream?"

"How badly?"

"Come again?"

"How extensive is the damage?" Ratchet sighed. Was he the only one focused on the actual repair right now?

"Imagine Bumblebee taking on an army of roughly three hundred Breakdowns." Knock Out responded quickly. "Only, make that about two thousand Insecticons, and swap Bumblebee for Starscream."

Ratchet did the math, calculating the odds of the lone mechs winning both scenarios – each approximately one-in-a-million. Ouch. No wonder Knock Out called for help. "Great, just great. And you expect him to survive?"

"Actually, no," Knock Out looked a bit nervous – maybe even scared – for the first time. "I'm worried about what's going to happen if he doesn't. Not that ol' Megahead ever really cared about Screamer, but if I can't get him fixed soon, then you can kiss the intel I've collected goodbye. Mr. Leader of the Bucket-Heads is looking for some excuse to get rid of me, so basically, no repair - no more double-agent."

"Putting it mildly, you're saying that Megatron is waiting for you to fail so he can kill you. Is that right?" Ratchet wondered just how the red medic got himself in so deep.

"Uh-huh."

"And you need my help to make sure you don't get offlined."

"Yep."

"And I suppose you never considered in the least bit the simplest of solutions?"

"Say what?"

In great detail, Ratchet began to explain where Knock Out went wrong. He'd forgotten one of his first lessons: the armor was part technology and part biology. Not as special as a T-cog, but vital nonetheless.

Knock Out facepalmed as soon as his former mentor finished. The answer had been right in front of him the whole time! Perhaps his stay with the enemy had diminished his skill more than he chose to admit. "I guess I'll get right on that." He turned to activate the GroundBridge from the long-range transmitter he'd planted on the control panel.

"Hold on, let me give you the right tools," Ratchet rummaged in his medical kit for a certain piece of equipment. Once he'd found it, he noticed the stubborn 'bot heading into the newly opened vortex. "Wait, Knock Out."

Reluctantly, Knock Out accepted the tool from the other medic. He couldn't help but feeling a little annoyed that he shouldn't have needed Ratchet's help at all.

Transforming to gain speed, he raced through the GroundBridge. It seemed to take longer than usual. Strange… this doesn't look like the Nemesis.

The walls of the room were gray-black, curved in some places, but angular in others. An outcropping hung not far above Knock Out's head, made of fused metal and stone. On a screen across the room, complex algorithms flashed in a random pattern. Not far off, a crushed medical kit lay discarded in the corner.

All of a sudden, a high pitched buzzing came from behind him. Heavy footsteps came closer and closer to Knock Out with every passing second. A motorcycle engine revved from a concealed part of the room.

Knock Out started to have a feeling that his bad day was about to get worse.

Undisclosed Location… again:

Ratchet watched the red medic leave, carefully timing his request for a GroundBridge.

As soon as he felt enough time had passed, Ratchet switched on the remote activator. He walked through the vortex, confusion rippling through his processor when he noticed the unfriendly reception at the end.

In the near darkness, Ratchet could just make out the gleam of red optics staring at him in surprise.

"Scrap." He couldn't help but say it now.

"Freeze," yelled one of the hidden mechs.

Ratchet turned toward the sound, only to find several blasters trained on him.

Autobot Base:

"I hear something," Knock Out could distinguish the voice now. Bulkhead.

Bumblebee beeped sharply, telling 'whoever it is' to stop hiding and face him.

Knock Out turned to leave the base, and unexpectedly found a pair of blades pressed against his throat.

Arcee was glaring at him, forcing him back against the wall.

The other two 'bots soon joined her. Bulkhead's fist transformed into a rather large mace, which he held above his head in an attack position. Bumblebee chirped angrily, pointing his arm-mounted blasters at the red medic.

"Don't move."