AN: How many TF: Prime fans watched Crossfire and wanted to murder Arachnid after she killed Breakdown? I'm still seething about that, and hope in the most twisted, sadistic way that she dies. Painfully.
The Nemesis:
Ratchet winced as his armor cracked under the strain of being hit one time too many. Technically, he should've passed out by now, but he was just too stubborn. Numerous wounds and dents littered his armor, but the medic refused to give in.
"Are you going to admit defeat now?" Megatron asked for what must've been the twentieth time.
Ratchet's hands transformed into twin blades, concealed from the Decepticon leader's view. "Never."
"Very well th-" The reply was cut off by Ratchet's unexpected attack. As experienced in combat as he was, Megatron was still caught off guard by the 'bot he'd called weak and useless retaliating so violently. Nevertheless, there was no way the Decepticon warlord was going to let Ratchet get away unscathed. "You want to fight? So be it."
Autobot Base:
Knock Out raised his hands as the Autobots stared at him in shock. Slaggit. He should've let Ratchet tell them first. Now how was he going to explain? What was he thinking?
Of course. He hadn't been thinking about anything except saving his sorry chassis. Once again, he had to admit to himself that masquerading as a Decepticon had changed him – a lot. He was more prone to reacting at the slightest insult, being blunter and ruder when he reported to Ratchet, and thinking less and less about his mission.
"I know it sounds like a trick," Knock Out was surprised to hear himself speak. "But listen to me – I'm really on your side."
"You've been with the 'cons the entire time we've been at war. You're not an Autobot," Once again, Arcee was quick to believe the worst.
Uneasily, Knock Out shifted a singular piece of armor on his shoulder, revealing a hidden insignia. The chrome red was cleverly concealed by the similar color of his paint – an Autobot sigil.
The Nemesis:
Breakdown was mad. And when Breakdown was mad, the Vehicons suffered. So far, there were thirty drones injured – twenty of them severely – and seventeen dead.
When he stormed into the Medical Bay after his rampage, he found a note left on the worktable. Scrawled into the top layer of carbon-infused steel were a complicated series of glyphs – most of which Breakdown couldn't decipher. The only words he recognized were his own name, should have, and trust. On the note, however, were instructions on how to translate the glyphs. Apparently, Knock Out had been kind enough to leave a program on the Nemesis' hard drive to decrypt the message.
The note said the program was simple enough for Starscream himself to use. What a lie.
"Simple, my tailpipe," the blue and orange 'con muttered after the program crashed for the third time.
Finally, once he had done much work on it, he got the program to function properly.
Lines of Ancient Cybertronian script scrolled down the screen, some words flashing a deep red. The heavy whirring continued as each word shifted to the more known New Cybertronian language Breakdown was familiar with.
Breakdown, you poor, ignorant Decepticon. You should have guessed. I suppose it's only fair to give you a sporting chance though. Be careful about your next actions, because some of the others might be inclined not to trust you anymore.
It cut off there. Breakdown searched for another note, not discovering one until the screen beeped urgently. Hidden underneath the computer code was an embedded message, addressed specifically to him.
As I said before, you should have guessed. Why would any sane Decepticon choose a land-based vehicle mode when he could fly? Of course, you chose yours due to its sheer capability for mass destruction – mostly caused by ramming into buildings. But enough about that. Yes, I'm an Autobot. And yes, I've been tricking you this whole time. Furthermore, I chose you as my assistant because of your intelligence – or lack thereof – and I knew you would be easy to fool. About your sporting chance, then. I'm assuming that worst has come to worst and Megatron has found out. In spite of this, I am giving you two options – one: tell Megatron about this message and let him deal with yet another traitor in his ranks personally; two: take the three coordinates I've programmed into your commlink and take care of me yourself. I am eighty-nine percent sure that, based on your stubborn actions in the past due to your petty rivalry with Bulkhead, you'll pick the latter. Follow the coordinates, and, if you find me, well – I hope you know what you're going to do then.
Autobot Base:
"I sure hope I'm seeing things," Bulkhead muttered to himself, still in shock after seeing Knock Out's Autobot insignia.
"Hey, you have to give me credit; I wasn't exactly the one you'd figure to be a spy."
"Shut up," Arcee smacked him upside the head. She didn't want to believe Knock Out was on their side. He had attacked them to many times to be trusted, right?
Bumblebee beeped harshly, demanding the medic prove that he was really on the Autobots' side.
"Where to start…" Knock Out mused. "Ah, yes, Tyger Pax. Bumblebee, when Megatron tortured you for information and a field medic saved your life, but not your vocorder, do you remember waking up in a completely different city?"
The mute scout beeped indifferently – it was common knowledge after all.
"And then Ratchet and another medic worked hard to restore your voice?"
This time the replying note was long and drawn out. The two field medics – one Ratchet and the other a red mech with the same smug half-smile and condescending attitude. Not possible. It couldn't be. No way in the known universe that was Knock Out.
"Arcee, didn't Arachnid terminate your first partner?"
The blue femme nodded tersely, not pleased that Knock Out brought it up.
"The squad of Autobots you were trying to make sure no one knew about, they were approximately three point nine miles from your location, am I not correct?" Another stiff nod from Arcee. Knock Out smirked in satisfaction. He was going to enjoy the look on her faceplate once he finished. "Tailgate didn't know, did he? About the three-ton bomb implanted in his energon processing unit? The one a new medic designed?"
Arcee's optics widened in surprised. No one was supposed to know about that. It had been a suicide mission, and she blatantly refused to tell Tailgate that the mission was intended to take out as many Decepticons as possible without their knowledge. She had refused because she didn't want him to perform at any level lower than his best. Still, it was painful to know that only one of them survived the ordeal.
One left. This was going to be the most fun yet.
"And Bulkhead, you were a part of the Wreckers, right?"
The green mech nodded, not seeing where this was going to go.
"Wheeljack, Seaspray, Impactor, Rotorstorm, Pyro, and Roadbuster were also members." Knock Out paused, glancing at Bulkhead to make sure he got it right. Another confused nod from the large Autobot. "Pity no one ever remembers Smokescreen: the poor double-agent mistakenly shot in the back by one of his own comrades. I'm fairly certain you know what – excuse me, who – killed him. Isn't that right, Bulkhead?"
It was Bulkhead's turn to be confused by the red medic. He hadn't meant to forget Smokescreen was on his side, but it slipped his processor at the time. It was a mistake. He hadn't remembered until the Autobot sigil hidden under Smokescreen's shoulder plating was revealed. Shortly after, the red, blue, and gold mech's spark was extinguished – all because of Bulkhead's one mistake. He was responsible for the death of a teammate, and he would never forget that grave mistake.
"Now do you believe me?"
All doubt the Autobots had been forgotten. No one ever spoke about any of those events. How else could he have known about them?
Finally, there was no more protesting about Knock Out's faction.
He was an Autobot.
Somewhere Outside Jasper, Nevada:
Breakdown was tired of the desert sand that tore at his paint. More importantly, a sense of utter betrayal ripped at his spark. He had trusted Knock Out. He had given him access to information that not even Starscream knew. Most of all, he had shown him the location of every Decepticon outpost in this section of the galaxy.
He drove as fast as he could, out into the desert, lucky his alternate form could handle the rough desert roads. Knock Out would not get away, not again.
Once he had reached the first set of coordinates, he transformed, looking around, he searched for clues as to Knock Out's whereabouts. He found nothing.
He stared up at the slowly darkening sky, rage simmering beneath the surface.
He trusted Knock Out.
And he was betrayed.
"KNOCK OUT! I'LL KILL YOU! I SWEAR BY PRIMUS I'LL KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"