Knockout couldn't see where they were going, courtesy of his face being buried in Brimstone's plating, and Bumblebee was too busy trying to break free of Cannonball's hold to focus on much else. When they stopped, Knockout felt himself being moved.
"Uh, Brimstone, I thought he was paralyzed?" Cannonball asked.
"FRAG!" Brimstone snapped, accompanied by a loud thump.
"You need me to knock him out?"
"No, you idiot! I had to move him for a nanoklik so I could open the door!"
"Oh, so he wasn't moving by himself?"
Brimstone turned and glared at his mate.
"Sorry."
Brimstone vented, no longer in the mood to berate his partner further. He opened a door and proceeded down a dimly lit corridor to the brig.
"Alright, you two, welcome to your new home, however temporary it may be," Brimstone spoke, sounding disinterested.
"You want this one in the same cell?" Cannonball asked, gesturing to Bumblebee. Brimstone waved a dismissive servo as he dropped Knockout on the floor.
"Yeah, sure, whatever."
"Do you think Thundertron would be alright with that?"
Brimstone barked out a laugh, startling the others. He turned on his heel and placed a servo on a cocked hip.
"Does it look like I care?"
Cannonball shrugged. He released Bumblebee, both from his grasp and from the shackles.
"You're not leaving us chained up in here?" Knockout asked, but his question was immediately overshadowed by Bumblebee's.
"What does Thundertron plan on doing to Steeljaw?"
Brimstone and Cannonball smirked at each other. It was an unsettling sight.
"What? What is he going to do?" Bumblebee pressed on, becoming frantic.
"Well, let's just say the Captain isn't the one you have to be worried about," Brimstone chuckled.
"Yeah! Why do you think he asked us to meet back up with him as soon as possible? Because we're the interrogation specialists on the Tidal Wave!" Cannonball explained, sounding quite pleased with him and his partner's position.
That just made Bumblebee and Knockout panic even more than they already were.
"You're not going to get away with this!" Bumblebee shouted, all riled-up after learning of Brimstone and Cannonball's specialty. He's prepared for a fight, and isn't going down without one.
Sensing his defiance, both pirates became giddy with murderous glee.
"We can't kill you, yet, but that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun," Brimstone said, showing off his sharp teeth.
"Bring it on," Bumblebee hissed.
Knockout and Cannonball looked on, only one of them enjoying the spectacle. Bumblebee was doing much better than what Brimstone thought the yellow and black mech capable of, but it wasn't enough. Despite all his training and field experience, Bumblebee has never felt more out of his depth. Brimstone is vicious, unrelenting, calculated; like a Decepticon, but different.
"Somethin' the matter?" Brimstone taunted. He kneed Bumblebee in the undercarriage and kicked him to the side, knocking him unconscious. "There, now we're done here!"
"Too bad the red one's paralyzed, I wanted to see you fight again," Cannonball admitted, making room for his partner to get out.
"Trust me, it wouldn't have been much of a show," Knockout muttered. "By the way, when will I not be paralyzed?"
Brimstone stopped halfway to closing the cell door. He turned to look at Cannonball, who just shrugged in response.
"Good question," Brimstone hummed, resuming his task. "I believe that's either for Starquest or our oh-so-salty pilot to deal with."
"Pilot?" Knockout repeated, confused. "How?"
"Don't know, don't care."
.
.
.
.
.
"However, I did hear a rumor that he used to specialize in all kinds of things long before he was initiated into the crew."
"Why do you say it like that?" Knockout inquired, the strange tone catching his attention.
"Because he was forced to join against his will," Cannonball answered. He received a glare from Brimstone. "What? Isn't that the truth?"
His mate just shook his helm.
"Wait, so what happened?" Knockout asked. He knew he shouldn't dig deeper, but he couldn't help the feeling of gossipping on the Nemesis again, even though that isn't what's going on.
Brimstone and Cannonball looked at Knockout, then at each other.
"Does it matter who knows?" Cannonball asked.
"Doesn't matter to me, that's for sure," Brimstone snorted, rolling his optics and turning to fully face Knockout. "While it isn't really any of our business, we don't care much about personal privacy on this ship. The only one who does is the pilot, Sandstorm, who, as my colleague so bluntly put it, was forced to join against his will."
Brimstone paused. Knockout remained at attention.
"Anyway, long story short, Thundertron threatened to kill Sandstorm's lover if he didn't cooperate."
If Brimstone kept speaking, Knockout didn't listen. Even with the paralysis still in effect, the red medic felt rooted to the floor, his optics widened in horror.
"Brimstone! Cannonball!" A new voice called out.
"Oh, hey, Starquest, didn't see ya there," Brimstone greeted nonchalantly. "Need something?"
"Thundertron. Interrogation. Now."
"Straight to the point as always, Star. Come on, Cannonball, we have some more fun to get to!"
"More?" Starquest questioned as Brimstone left the brig.
"We'll explain later," Cannonball said. "Oh, and is there any chance you can undo the red one's paralysis? I don't think Brimstone wants to go get Sandstorm."
Starquest rolled their optics and nodded. Cannonball gave them a quick hug before rushing out.
"There are so many words to describe those two," Starquest vented, sounding either embarrassed or disappointed. He shook his helm and went to work on restoring Knockout's mobility.
Soon, Knockout started to regain feeling throughout his frame, and Bumblebee stirred awake.
"Everything hurts."
"I'd be careful getting up if I were you," Knockout said, shakily pushing himself to his pedes.
"Hey, you're not paralyzed anymore!" Bumblebee exclaimed.
"Nope."
"What happened?"
"You know that mech that kind of looks like a Soundwave-Megatron hybrid?"
"Uh… Starquest, I believe is his name?"
"Yes, him. Anyway, he came in and did something and now I can move again!"
"That's good."
Bumblebee pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed the back of his helm. He scanned the room for anyone else.
"The pirates left," Knockout said, side-stepping over to Bumblebee. "I don't think I need to tell you where they went."
Bumblebee held his helm in his servos. Knockout sat down and wrapped his arms around the other mech in a comforting embrace.
"I'm worried about him, Knockout. Back there, with Thundertron… I've never seen Steeljaw act like that before. Ever. He's never been that scared, or nervous, or powerless, or…"
"I get it, Bee. Trust me, I do. When you get to know someone as closely as you two have each other, you kind of begin to understand them."
"Yeah, the two of us have been through a lot, even if we were only on the same side once and trying to kill each other the rest of the time."
The mechs laughed.
"I'm sure he'll be fine," Knockout reassured, rubbing Bumblebee's backplate to soothe him. "If anyone can handle these guys, it's Steeljaw. Besides, if there's anyone we should be worrying about, it's Starscream."
Bumblebee raised an optical ridge.
"What? Excuse me for being paranoid about Screamer's track record for mission: success! I know he's clever, but honestly! How often have his schemes actually succeeded?"
"You're right, on all fronts," Bumblebee agreed. "Let's just hope that Starscream… I mean, Dust Devil is more convincing with these guys than he ever was with any of us."
.
. .
. . .
Dust Devil kept a clear processor as he followed Starquest, busy with mapping out the place. The sound of doors sliding open caught his attention. He looked up, and what awaited him was a dark and spacious room, with a giant holo-map and accompanying control panel taking-up the entire center of the room, and shelves full of data pads and navigational tools all along the far wall.
"This is the Planetarium," Starquest said. "You will be working with Sandstorm next."
"What? Oh, uh, yes, of course," Dust Devil stammered.
"Nervous?"
Yes, I'm nervous, that's why I can't answer!
"Are you two just going to stand there or are you actually going to come in?"
Pushed against one of the other walls is a long table, holding more of what is already on the shelves. The silhouette of a bot can be seen standing in front of a small beam of light.
"You seem to be in a particularly bad mood today, Sandstorm," Starquest pointed out, taking a step inside. Dust Devil recollected himself and stood forward as well.
"That's what happens when the work assigned to me by Thundertron is interrupted by none other than Thundertron himself, and then he has the audacity to get angry at me for not finishing the work he gave me because…" Sandstorm stopped and turned. "Ah, he left."
Dust Devil jumped to attention and looked around. Starquest was no longer around.
"Where did he go? He was just here!" Dust Devil screeched.
"Keep your voice down! Some of this stuff is very delicate!" Sandstorm snapped.
"Sorry! My apologies."
"It's alright. Come on over. It's clear you're here to assist."
Sandstorm waved his servo at Dust Devil, motioning for him to come closer. Dust Devil made his way over to the smaller flight-frame, flinching when the doors closed behind him.
"It'll take some time, but you will get used to our First Mate's unusual habits," Sandstorm reassured, his yellow optics never leaving his work.
"So, what am I to do?" Dust Devil asked.
"Well, while I am finishing this set of charts I was just complaining to Starquest about in order to get him to leave sooner, you are going to organize the rest."
"Oh. Are you sure?"
Sandstorm's blade-like wings twitched.
"Did I stutter?"
"No, of course not! I'll get right on that, sir!"
Dust Devil retreated from the agitated mech's side and rushed over to the shelves nearby, which, at a much closer distance, did appear quite messy and disorganized.
"Don't call me sir."
Dust Devil was contemplating where to start first when Sandstorm spoke again.
"What?" He asked, turning around.
"Please, don't call me that," Sandstorm repeated, frame slumping.
". . . Are you alright?"
"No, and I don't want to talk about it, either."
"I never said…" Dust Devil stopped himself mid-way and vented. "Nevermind."
"What?"
"It's nothing."
Dust Devil turned around and got to work.
.
.
.
.
.
"What?" Sandstorm repeated, much closer to Dust Devil, who jumped in fright.
"By the stars, don't do that!" Dust Devil said, placing a servo on his chassis.
"Focused, were you?"
"Yes!"
"Are you going to answer my question or not?"
"It wasn't much of a question."
"Even a single word can carry a lot of weight behind it."
"Fine. You're clearly not happy here, so why bother staying? It's not because you're scared for your own life; you've made that quite clear."
Dust Devil paused to gauge a reaction from Sandstorm. He would've continued, too, if it wasn't for the dark flicker of the smaller mech's optics.
"What was that?"
"What was what?" Sandstorm repeated, his voice cracking slightly. The embarrassing response was followed by muttered curses.
"Annoying, isn't it? The optics always give it away."
Sandstorm didn't respond. He refused to look back at Dust Devil. The Seeker vented and reached out, gently resting a servo on the other mech's shoulder plate.
"You don't have to talk about it, but if you need to get something off your chassis, I promise… I promise… How do I word this?"
Something pressed against his frame. Dust Devil looked down and was surprised when he saw Sandstorm leaning on him.
"What are you doing?"
"Sorry, I just… I haven't been around someone like you in so long, and… I miss it," Sandstorm explained, optics closed and arms wrapped around his own frame.
Someone like me? What does he mean? Another Seeker perhaps? Or someone else with a similar flight-frame to mine?
"Ah, well, care to elaborate?" Dust Devil offered. "If only to make this a little less awkward?"
"It won't help, trust me," Sandstorm warned. "You were correct when you said that I don't fear for myself. I fear for someone else, someone I was forced to leave behind. My spark mate. We planned to become conjunx-endura, but that all changed when Thundertron demanded that I join his crew. He was amassing an army of bots from Cybertronian colonies wronged by our ancestral home. My home planet, Paradron, was destroyed, and word of my profession as a cartographer reached Thundertron. He figured he could use me to wage his war. I was adamant about not joining. I didn't want to get involved, but then…"
Tears trickled from the corners of Sandstorm's optics.
"Thundertron went after my spark mate. I had no choice. I had to take the deal."
He circulated his vents and raised a servo to wipe his tears away.
"I'm sorry that you had to go through that," Dust Devil whispered, remembering the time he was put in a similar situation with his fellow Seekers and Megatron.
"Thank you," Sandstorm rumbled, a small smile forming on his faceplate. "Okay, enough touchy-feely scrap. Time to get back to work."
.
.
.
.
.
"Aye, Sandstorm!"
It was Brimstone and Cannonball leaning in the doorway, their frames covered in Energon.
"What happened?" Sandstorm asked, exasperated by the interruption.
"Interrogation didn't go as expected, but it was still fun," Brimstone explained, his grin wide and wicked. "Ain't that right, Cannonball?"
"Oh yeah! That 'Con is certainly a tough one!" Cannonball agreed.
"Didn't get much out of him, but whatever. It isn't like he's going anywhere. Speaking of which, you might want to hurry it up with the medical stuff and such. Cannonball and I are heading to the wash racks if ya need us for anything. Later!"
Just as soon as Brimstone and Cannonball arrived, they left.
"By the stars…" Sandstorm hissed. "Put those maps somewhere safe, Dust Devil, and come with me. Knowing those two, that mech isn't in very good shape."
Dust Devil didn't need to be told twice to get his aft in gear. He placed his workload on an empty shelf and followed Sandstorm to the Chamber.
.
. .
. . .
His vision was a swirling mass of black and blue and green by the end of interrogation. Not that Steeljaw gave his tormentors any answers, because he had no such thing to give. The information they wanted was something he either wasn't privy to, or he just never bothered with.
"I should've expected as much from a Decepticon," Thundertron rumbled.
"Not my fault you asked the wrong questions," Steeljaw huffed. Thundertron stopped in front of the prisoner and grabbed his lower jaw, forcing him to look up.
"And what questions should those have been?"
"Why ask me?"
Thundertron growled, but a knock at the door stopped him from lashing out at Steeljaw.
"Sandstorm, sir. Open the door."
Reluctantly, Thundertron released Steeljaw from his grip and adhered to his pilot's request.
"Thank you, and before you ask about Dust Devil, Starquest dropped him off."
Thundertron appeared furious from being interrupted, yet didn't lose his temper. Taking the silence as his answer, Sandstorm let a smirk briefly cross his faceplate as he settled down beside Steeljaw. The prisoner shifted away from the touch of servos on his plating. He knew Sandstorm wasn't here to harm him, but after what happened with Thundertron, then Brimstone and Cannonball, he didn't feel comfortable having another one of the pirates anywhere near him.
"What exactly did you do to him?"
"As if that isn't obvious," Thundertron retorted, crossing his arms. "Just make sure he's ready for another round tomorrow."
Sandstorm stopped working. He sat back and vented.
"Normally, I would argue against this, but since I know you won't budge, I'm just going to forgo the usual argument and cut right to the chase."
"Which would be?"
"How much Tox-En did you inject into him?"
An audible gasp, followed by the clank of fallen metal. The pirates looked to Dust Devil, whose optics were wide and full of fear.
"Tox-En? Are you insane? That could kill him! It could kill us!" Dust Devil screeched.
"There's no need to panic. Yes, we keep a stash of Tox-En on-board, but none of us would be stupid or reckless enough to overdo it with the stuff," Sandstorm explained.
"Well said, my Pilot."
"Shove it up your aft, Thundertron! I still need that answer, if you want him to live."
Again, Thundertron looked like he would blow a gasket, but kept the lid on. He resorted to grinding his jaw and clenching his fists.
"One small cylinder, and no working on him outside of this room! He is staying right here!"
Without waiting for a rebuke, the Captain turned around and left. Once he was gone, the three remaining mechs relaxed.
"I thought he'd never leave!" Dust Devil exclaimed.
"How are you doing?" Sandstorm asked his patient.
"Just fine, thanks for asking," Steeljaw huffed. He stifled a cry of pain when the clamps that were digging into his lower arms were unlatched and pulled out.
"Are those spikes?" Dust Devil asked, his vocalizer raising a pitch.
"More like built-in needles for multiple, immediate injections," Sandstorm corrected. "In this case, liquified Tox-En. I don't believe I need to or will explain further."
"Of course not."
Steeljaw neither saw nor heard what happened next as he blacked out.
The next day, Starquest arrived with a cube Energon for Steeljaw. Once refreshed, his arms were clasped behind his back in the same manner they were before.
It's been hours since then, and someone has yet to show up. Steeljaw was growing anxious for what Thundertron or Brimstone and Cannonball had in store for today. He nearly jumped out of his plating when the door finally opened and his tormentors entered. Thundertron, grinning wickedly, was holding something behind his back, and both Brimstone and Cannonball couldn't hold back their excited, indecipherable chattering.
Steeljaw did not like the implications their behavior had.
"I'm guessing you have something a little different planned for today," he said, remaining steadfast in the face of danger.
"Indeed," Thundertron rumbled. He pulled out whatever he was hiding to show Steeljaw: a small cylinder, holding spirals of pink and purple, reminiscent of plumes of smoke.
"I was in the middle of trying to figure out what to do when we got the results. You see, when we captured you and your ship mates, one of our scanners alerted us to a potentially hazardous substance on-board. What intrigued me even more was how much of it stuck to you. So, I had a sample taken to be tested, and lo and behold our good fortune! As soon as I heard what it was, I knew we had you."
"Care to get to the point already?" Steeljaw growled.
"Aw, what's the matter, little Lupicon? Scared? Considering how much of Phoria was left on your frame, I'm guessing it wasn't a very pleasant experience, especially for you."
Steeljaw froze.
No, not again…
"Oh, and don't you worry, if this isn't enough, we have plenty more in storage."
Please, not again!
Steeljaw started fighting his restraints, determined to get away from the vile substance that had scarred him in so many ways. He knew his efforts were in vain, but he still refused to give in.
Not when Brimstone and Cannonball were forced to hold him still.
Not when Thundertron walked over and injected him.
Never again! I don't… want to… go through this… again.
Flashback – beginning
Whoa! You're a pretty good fighter!
Yeah, I knew that already. Who are you, anyway?
You can call me Steeljaw, brother.
I ain't your brother.
But wouldn't you like someone by your side? You seem awfully lonely out here.
What's it to you?
Nothing much. Just looking for something interesting, and from what I've seen, I'd like to get to know you better.
You're annoyingly persistent.
I try.
Ha! You know what? I think I kinda like you. The name's _
– time skip –
Ey, Steeljaw, got a moment?
What are you doing here, _? Is something wrong?
You could say that. Listen, I don't normally do this, but I need some advice.
And you came to me?
Considering you're the only one I don't want to immediately shoot to smithereens, yeah.
Good to know. What do you need?
– time skip –
I can't believe you're listening to a mech like him.
I can't believe you let me! Why did I even agree to this?
Because I asked, and for some reason you decided to go along with it.
Add that to my hopefully short list of idiotic decisions.
Ey, at least you got the Pack.
True, and I have you as my second-in-command. Still can't believe you're alright with me being the leader.
Why wouldn't I? If I were in-charge, I'd just do everything by myself and kill anyone who gets in my way. At least we'll have some semi-decent direction with you.
Semi-decent?
Ey, you said it yourself, you can be an idiot at times. You need a second-in-command to second guess your decisions and whatnot.
Uh-huh. Sure.
– time skip –
I can't believe this! Is he trying to get us all killed?
Sounds like another eventful meeting with Convoy.
That fraggin' scrapheap…
Ey, how about you save that aggression for the battle tomorrow and join me for some biofuel now?
Please don't tell me…
I prepared a special batch for tonight!
Great.
Ey, no complaining! You ain't allowed to grieve tonight! Just drink like there ain't no tomorrow!
Alright. A toast, then, to the rest of our lives!
Pits yeah!
– time skip –
Steel? Steeljaw, can you hear me?
I'm getting you out of here! Just hold on!
No, I didn't tell them where you are. As far as Lio Convoy and the rest are concerned, you were blown to bits.
How did I know? C'mon, Steel, this is us we're talking about. We know each other better than anyone else. Better than even ourselves, honestly.
I have to go, before they come looking for me and find you.
Goodbye, Steel.
I love you.
Flashback – end
Steeljaw fell silent. He was still alive, but the effects of the toxin were wearing off. Thundertron hated how they used up their entire supply of the stuff, but after those last four words, all three pirates were shocked yet pleased by what they learned.
"Sounds like he really cares about someone," Cannonball said.
"We don't have a name, though," Brimstone muttered. "Not for his mystery lover, anyway."
"Do you think the others know?"
"Highly doubt it. If it took us this long to get a hint of something out of him unwillingly, then there's no way he willingly told any of the others."
Down in the brig, neither Bumblebee nor Knockout were expecting what's to come.
"You think he's alright?" Bumblebee asked as he paced the cell. All day, he's had this bad feeling that won't go away, and there's no doubt within his processor that it has to do with Steeljaw.
"I'm sure he's fine," Knockout reassured. Bumblebee hummed in agreement, but was too busy indulging the pit in his spark to believe in a good outcome.
Unfortunately, Bumblebee is proven right.
Brimstone and Cannonball entered the brig about a half hour later, the former unlocking and opening the cell door, allowing the latter to release his captive. Steeljaw didn't hesitate to put as much distance between himself and the others as possible, choosing the far corner to curl up into a shivering ball of metal.
"Steeljaw?" Bumblebee's concern grew tenfold from Steeljaw's uncharacteristic behavior, and he instantly rounded on the pirates. "What did you do to him?"
"Torture, what else?" Brimstone snapped.
"Well, we did pump him full of that stuff from Phoria," Cannonball admitted.
"WHAT?" Knockout yelled. He jumped to his pedes and ran over to stand side-by-side with Bumblebee. "Phoria? Are you crazy? Do you have any idea the long-term effect of being exposed to that planet's atmosphere will have on his processor?"
The pirates ignored the red medic as they left the brig.
"Fraggers."
Meanwhile, Bumblebee cautiously approached Steeljaw, careful not to startle him.
"Hey, Steeljaw, it's me, Bumblebee," the yellow and black mech started in a calm, comforting tone, slowly settling down beside the Lupicon.
A muffled whine emanated from beneath folded arms, followed by Steeljaw raising his helm to look at who addressed him.
"Lieutenant?"
"I'm here, Steeljaw. All three of us are here. You, me, and Knockout. Okay?"
Skeptical, Steeljaw reached out, the tips of his claws barely touching Bumblebee's plating. The claws kept moving closer until the whole servo rested against living metal.
"You are real."
"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I… WHOA!"
Bumblebee was caught completely off guard when Steeljaw suddenly embraced him. He flinched as sharp claws dug into his backplate, but soon, his pain didn't matter. All that did matter was the extremely vulnerable mech whimpering against his chassis.
"It's alright, Steeljaw, you're safe now," Bumblebee reassured, tightening his hold on the traumatized Lupicon. "I swear on my spark that I'll protect you. No matter what, they won't harm you ever again."
"Not… Not again," Steeljaw whimpered, frame convulsing. "I don't want to go through that again. Please… Please don't let me go through that again!"
"I promise…"
"We promise," Knockout corrected, joining the comfort huddle.
"Yes. We promise, Steeljaw, that they won't get their servos back on you."
It broke the mechs' sparks, seeing someone who is known for their strength and cunning so broken, but it did provide them a little relief when the trembling and crying stalled.
"Thank you," Steeljaw whispered. Bumblebee smiled a sad smile and nodded.
The mechs remained where they were for the rest of the day: Knockout and Bumblebee watching over Steeljaw as he recharged, still clinging to the yellow and black mech. While his grip has slackened in his unconscious and weakened state, the Lieutenant's remains firm yet delicate.
Protective.
If anyone wants to get to Steeljaw, they'll have to go through a beyond pissed-off Bumblebee first. To which, the chances of success are slim-to-none.