AN: What is Knock Out up to? Well… you'll see. Or maybe not.
Autobot Base:
It was working faster than Knock Out had planned. But the only downside was that now Ratchet wouldn't stop talking to him. It was as if the medic wanted to have Knock Out insult him.
It had only been a week since he started, and already the entire room was covered in ancient Cybertronian glyphs.
To any ordinary mech, it was just a bunch of meaningless scribbles. But that was to be expected; only medics and scientists knew the ancient script.
Even then, it would take an expert optic and keen knowledge of complex code to decipher the meaning behind the strange words carved into the carbon-steel paneling.
Ratchet had neither of these, so Knock Out's plan was safe for now.
The red racer knew that Optimus had a camera on him; but he was also sure that the 'bots assigned to review it later saw nothing but their 'prisoner' passing the time in an unusual way. Doubtless they didn't even think it necessary to look it over anymore. Now the real fun could begin.
In a heavily shadowed corner of the room, an access panel lay implanted in the wall, underneath the heavy carbon-steel of course. Knock Out had torn both panels off, exposing the delicate wiring beneath.
It had been a simple matter to use vibrations to tell when someone was coming, although he had little warning when that infuriating Special Agent William Fowler – what a mouthful of a name – came to interrogate him.
Knock Out had been close to knocking the absurd human off his perch when Arcee intervened. It hadn't ended well for anyone.
Focus. He didn't have time for this. Footsteps were approaching quickly in his direction and this was absolutely the worst time for it. Conceal your work.
The footsteps grew louder, and Knock Out couldn't find it in himself to stop. Come to your senses, his processor screamed at him. You'll be discovered! For Primus' sake stop!
Okay. Okay, slow down. Just keep a cool head and slow yourself to a stop. It'll be alright; you won't be found out. Step out of your hiding place and face the Autobot. Calmly.
Face the Autobot? Calmly? Where had that come from?
Knock Out sometimes felt as if there were two completely different sets of programming inside his head; one using the peaceful ways of the Autobots, and one the brutal tactics of the Decepticons. This was one of those times.
It hurt his CPU to use both sets at the same sets at the same time, but sometimes he did it anyway. That was his Decepticon-like side could be less violent, and his Autobot-like side a little more forceful. It worked, but not for long; soon after he passed out; it was just too much for him.
The Autobot stepped through the door and into the room.
"I thought Ratchet was kidding." A pause, then, "Where'd he go?"
Knock Out slipped through the darkness in silence, making his way so that Arcee's back was to him. "Behind you," he hissed, using the softest voice he could manage. He lashed out in mock anger at Arcee's back, but the femme must have heard the air hissing, because she parried and counterstriked.
Knock Out found himself on the floor. "I was joking," he cried indignantly, getting to his feet.
"Oh, shut up," Arcee snarled in reply. "It sure didn't seem like you were joking."
"Pay attention."
"Stop messing around; this is serious. Or is everything a joke to you?" Arcee glared accusingly at the medic. "Why'd you even bother coming back after all you did?"
Knock Out had started to form an angry reply when Ratchet walked in.
"I'll take it from here, Arcee," he said.
The blue femme stalked out furiously.
Ratchet shook his head. "Must you always do that to her?"
"Do what?" Knock Out asked innocently, though he already knew.
"Annoy the living daylights out of her."
"Pretty much. Kind of my thing."
"I thought you were better than that. You're acting like a Youngling – no, more like a Sparkling."
"Shut up and rust in the Pit." Was all Knock Out said.
"Get a hold of yourself and come to your senses. We're trying to help," Ratchet pressed.
Knock Out threw himself at the older medic, knocking him to the ground. "I said shut up and rust in the Pit!"
Ratchet made no move to counterstrike. He drew Knock Out's energon prod, backing away slowly. "You want to kill me, don't you?"
The black rage in Knock Out's optics was all the answer he needed.
"Well then, I suppose I'll have to give this back," Ratchet said, tossing the collapsed weapon at Knock Out.
The red medic looked first at ratchet, then at the weapon in his hand. "You're not going to stop me?" he asked in disbelief.
Ratchet took a step back, spreading his arms out, leaving himself completely vulnerable to attack. "You're a Decepticon. You said so yourself; now prove it."
Knock Out hesitated a second; then he lunged.
Ratchet braced himself, closing his optics.
Then something clattered to the ground, and Knock Out hissed as if in pain.
Ratchet looked.
Knock Out was staring at his hands, shaking. Then his joints gave out and Ratchet steadied him.
"No more choices," The young mech muttered, still trembling. "No more pain. No more betrayal."
"Easy, Knock Out, I got you," Ratchet said calmly. He had expected something like this, but not in the manner it happened. "Just let go," he murmured soothingly.
"No more confusion…" Knock Out's optics darkened as he drifted into recharge.
"Woah, Doc, where ya' been?" Breakdown's call came from behind Knock Out.
Doc… Nobody's called me that in forever. "Hey, Breakdown!"
"Made up your mind yet?"
"Yeah, I'm joining the Decepticons." The name felt strange to say, almost as if it were of another tongue.
The huge mech sighed. It sounded like two metal plates scraping over each other. "Good, now I won't have to fight you. Ever get the medical training you disappeared for?"
For a moment Knock Out considered telling his friend that Ratchet trained him. But then he decided against it. "Wasn't for me. I found out a couple of new skills that could help me treat the wounded though."
Breakdown smirked. "Megatron's been looking for a medic. Maybe he'll find you to be the right 'con."
"'Con?"
"Yeah, Autojerks have taken to calling us that."
Autojerks? That didn't seem right. It wasn't like any of the Autobots he knew to be worthy of the cruel moniker Autojerk. He just about objected to the statement, but wisely kept his mouth shut.
When they arrived at the Decepticon Base in Socin, there were more mechs there than Knock Out would have expected. The whole lot of them seemed to be from the pit fights or slums of Kaon.
"Who's your little friend, Breakdown?"
The voice of a seeker made Knock Out swivel around. Breakdown stepped between the two mechs, shielding his smaller friend from view. "His name's Knock Out, Starscream," he replied evenly.
Starscream peered past the hulking 'con to inspect the new arrival. "Doesn't look like much of a warrior," he sneered, sounding scornful.
"I'll fight if I have to," Knock Out growled, instantly realizing he said something wrong. About half of the Decepticons looked at him strangely.
"What he means is," Breakdown interrupted, "he's a medic. He'd rather fix than fight. But he's a capable warrior if he must."
"A medic?" The new voice was booming, powerful and commanding. It was Megatron.
"Lord Megatron." The Decepticons dropped to one knee; Knock Out quickly followed suit.
"Tell me, medic, what experience do you have?"
"I-I repaired some of the injured from the gladiatorial fights," Knock Out stammered, uncertain if he was to reply. Then I trained under the Autobot Scientific and Medical Guild for some time, until I found it wasn't for me."
"Then why are you here?"
The way he answered this question could potentially end his life or save it. "The caste system has gone on for too long and the High Council is nothing more than a league of oppressors who claim to be doing things 'only for the good of our race' but they have not. I believe you can put an end to their tyranny and bring an era of peace to our planet." Knock Out hoped his answer was enough.
The Decepticon leader stared at him for a moment, and then laughed. "Very good; you are smart. Breakdown, you were wise to ask him to join. He will make a fine medic."