Archive of Our Own ^beta

The Kamchatka Peninsula in Eastern Russia, as local geography maps called it, was a bleak place. Threatening gray clouds hung low in the sky, partnered by pockets of fog and billowing smoke from a nearby volcano. Abandoned buildings, broken automobiles, and fallen telephone lines were covered in a thick layer of dust particles and ash. It was a wasteland, quite reminiscent of most cities on Cybertron, now that Knockout thought about it.

The Decepticon medic had been sent out to this desolate place to track down a stray energon signal; no team of vehicons, no Breakdown, not even Starscream for assistance. His dear partner had been called away to a tropical mine after a fault-line quake collapsed six central tunnelways, several thousand miles away from his current position. Starscream was involved in… something else Knockout didn’t pay attention to, and of course Soundwave and Lord Megatron were above such a petty mission.

And so in a brilliant, dark energon-induced moment of task delegation, the mighty warlord instructed his CMO with tracing the energy signal to its source, and determining if it was worth harvesting.

Knockout hated every moment of his lonely exposure in this miserable atmosphere.

The pooling temperature of cold, stagnant air meeting warm volcanic dioxides - and the resulting humid fog - was corroding his beautiful paint. Ash particles were clinging to finish too, and his pedes were covered in disgusting organic… stuff. He didn't even want to know what.

His fans were working above a normal rate to ventilate his systems, yet the air emerging from his vents was a visible puff of frozen condensation.

It was dreadful, to say the least. Knockout just wanted to be back in his dry, metallic med bay with Breakdown by his side. Preferably, with a rotary buffer in those large servos - which would glide over his ruined chassis to fix the smoke-caused imperfections.

But as tempting as that vision was, the medic still had a mission to complete.

He sighed, pulling his scanner out of his subspace again to check his position. The signal was closer now, but squinting at the digital display revealed a far more intriguing appearance to his surroundings.

Because there, about two kilometers northwest, was an Autobot energy signature.

Knockout grinned into the eerie wasteland and silently made his way toward the point of origin, sticking to building ruins as he trained his optics for the vibrant color palettes of the Autobots. He swapped out his scanner for the energy prod stored in his back compartment, twirling the compressed staff between his digits nervously.

Then suddenly, pedesteps. Light, delicate, unaware of his presence.

The cherry-red mech ducked into a large structure next to him, carefully stepping over broken furniture on the floor and ducking under a small chandelier. He tucked himself into an intact corner near a shabby human staircase, and peeked through a dirty window at the clearing opposite to the building.

It took a moment, but soon the unmistakable figure of Arcee walked into view. She held a portable scanner in her servos, similar to the one Knockout currently had, and was messing with a display of system settings on the circular screen.

Of course she would be here tracking down the energon signal, too.

Hmm… At least it's not that brute, Bulkhead. Knockout sighed to himself, gripping the handle to his weapon a little tighter. Still, I can't let her get to the source first.

He contemplated his choice of actions while the lithe Autobot was distracted, but eventually decided that sneaking around her wouldn't work. He'd need to engage in battle and take her offline, or unconscious at the least.

The Aston Martin puffed out another deep exvent and activated his energy prod, letting a spark of electricity build in the head of the device for a breem. Then he stepped away from his corner of safety and charged through the nearest opening in the wall that was wide enough for him to fit. He didn't give Arcee a moment to register his advance and swung his staff in her direction, burying it in her side with a screech of metal and a flash of sparking electrons.

Arcee cried out in shock, both figuratively and literally. She dropped to the ash-strewn ground but managed to fight the surge of electricity enough to conserve motor functions, helm whipping around to assess her assaultant.

"You really should be more aware of your surroundings, dear." Knockout tutted with a smirk, backing up a step to take on a proper fighting stance, "You never know when something may spring from the shadows to attack you."

"Thanks for the advice." The Autobot hissed back, rising to her pedes again.

She glanced at their dreary surroundings, no doubt searching for other Decepticons to emerge and aid Knockout, but quickly quit the rude ignorance of her opponent to flash him a similarly taunting smirk,

"I see you don't have your lap dog dutifully following you around right now - heeding your every beck and call. I bet Breakdown's finally enjoying the peace and quiet." She sneered, activating the blades on the undersides of her gauntlets.

Knockout's engine growled, loud and possessive. How dare she denigrate their relationship-!

He lunged forward with a furious roar, bringing his staff down on Arcee like it was a massive hammer, but she nimbly dodged to the side and swiped his legs out from underneath him. The Decepticon narrowly escaped a blade to the helm by rolling onto his side, desperately ignoring the crunch of impact on his wheels and the dirt that instantly caked itself onto his dorsal plating. He threw his prod at his enemy's looming figure as he pushed himself upright, successfully buying himself enough time to move during the resulting shock.

Now it was Arcee's turn to growl, ripping the weapon away from her frame with a surprising amount of strength given the double voltage she sustained.

"You're dead, Con." She seethed, holding the prod's handle in both of her servos.

Knockout's expression contorted into honest terror as he watched his prized weapon snap under the pressure she applied to it, followed by a sharp crack that grated his audio receptors. Tiny pieces of the worn metal rained down to the ground, and the gathered electricity at the device's head fizzled out with gurgled hisses and spits. Arcee dropped the remaining halves like they were no more than trash, and stepped on the broken handle for good measure.

The medic felt something in his spark shatter at the sight. That energy prod had been a gift from Breakdown - a long, long time ago. Since he didn't like close-quarters-combat, and the few medical tools he had replaced his built-in weapons systems with weren't designed for the battlefield, his considerate partner had that staff specially created for him. Something, something "just don't shock me with it."

And now it was in pieces among the ashes and dirt...

"On the contrary, Arcee." Knockout spoke after a calming invent used to channel his rage into his remaining weapon, "Because I have a partner to return home to, whereas you do not."

That got a reaction out of the blue femme, whose optics briefly flickered between grief and uncontrolled fury, and promptly launched herself at her enemy with gauntlet blades held high. Knockout grinned just to piss her off and grabbed her wrist as she charged, spinning her around like it was a tango and therefore twisting the joint backward. He quickly activated the buzz saw attachment to his left servo, and made a precise swipe at the small tire between Arcee's back pauldron plates.

It popped with a violent scream of air and a tear of rubber, entire chunks flinging away from the momentum as Arcee twisted out of his grip.

"Hope you didn't plan on driving any time soon, Unicycle." He jeered, executing a quick backflip before his opponent had time to retaliate.

And so their dance of built-in weapons renewed, dodging with eloquent flips and twirls, and occasionally landing a violent laceration to either party. The only reason Knockout wasn't losing it over the damage (thankfully not deep enough to draw energon) was that their constant tussle had covered him in a fine layer of volcanic ash, which hid most of the marks. Of course, he'd go ballistic about his poor finish later when he had a chance to look in a mirror, but that would only be when he completed his mission, and finally made it back to Breakdown aboard the Nemesis.

But again, that could only happen once he disposed of the Autobot, and they were unfortunately pretty evenly matched, all things considered. Arcee's nimble fighting style relied on quick strikes that allowed for even quicker retreats, paired with an agility that came naturally for lean frames like herself.

Knockout's attacks were just as fast and unpredictable, frame incredibly agile for a four-wheeler ground build. He had his Velocitronian heritage to thank for that, though he rarely had a need to use it since he usually had assistance in the field.

"Give up, Knockout." The blue femme hissed, backing him against a nearby building exterior, "I located the energon signal first. Whatever deposit's out here belongs to the Autobots!"

Her enemy's smile only deepened, feeling the cold wall brush along the edge of his tires. He had an idea; he just needed to provoke the beast a little more.

"Give up? Like you did on Cliffjumper?" The cherry-red racer taunted, returning his saw blade to his normal servo, "Oh, how Starscream loved to declare his victory over that metal bovine. Literally dance through the Nemesis halls and recite poems about sinking his claws through his spark chamber. Honestly wish I was there to witness it firsthand~"

Not a word out of his intake was true, but it was enough to reignite Arcee's deepest hatred, blinding her to his true intentions in a need to defend her late partner.

"Shut. Up." She warned, fists clenching.

Knockout's grin stretched across his faceplate farther than should be naturally possible, "Make me."

And Arcee took the bait.

With a furious cry, she charged at him with her blades trained on his throat cabling, death in her optics. But then Knockout suddenly kicked off the wall behind him and flipped over her small figure, letting her crash into the place he had been a mere klik ago. He landed with a graceful twist of his torso and grabbed her blue helm in both servos, slamming it into the concrete structure with as much force as he could manage.

The Autobot's muffled cry was joined by the satisfying crack of concrete, and her limbs dropped limply to her sides. Knockout knew the impact was enough to incapacitate Arcee, and therefore removed his servos, letting her crumple to the ground in a fading heap.

"Ah, how easy the spark overrules battle protocols. You really must learn to control your temper, dear." The Decepticon medic sighed playfully, placing his servos on his hips as he peered down at her.

"Shame you'll never get the opportunity to learn." He reactivated the buzz saw extension to his right servo, glancing at the blade as it glistened when he moved his wrist, "I needed a test cadaver anyway."

Knockout drew his weapon back in a grand, dramatic sweep, really making sure Arcee heard the saw and understood the threat she had no way of stopping-

A high, crackling whine caught his audio receptors moments before white and blue filled his vision.

Something slammed into his left chest plate with piercing strength, the shatter of his headlight unheard over the deafening zap that coursed through his lines. Knockout wasn't sure if he screamed or not - every system and sensor was ablaze with agony - until cool, rough dirt was suddenly underneath his frame. He groaned, digits twitching as he fought to get his sensory array back online. But it wasn't working; the shock was forcibly shutting down anything but basic stasis protocols.

The last thing he acknowledged through the blackened haze was the faint sound of whipping blades somewhere above him.

…S͍̼̜̭̯̩ͩ̊͘t̴̥͘a̷̖̯r̵̛͉̺̼͂ͪs̊͊ͮc̺̰̀r̝͎͟e͖̎ͣ͑a̴͍ͨ̑̕m̵̼̎́..?

Five helicopters landed a few feet away from the two fallen Cybertronians.

Like termites, a swarm of humans in gray/olive green gear jumped out of the transport carriers and drew large, advanced stun guns, pointing the barrels at each unresponsive figure. From the closest helicopter stepped out a man decked in tactical gear and a reinforced uniform, face uncovered by fabric but decorated in thick pink scars.

He surveyed the area: the destruction caused by the massive machines, the damage left on each other's dirty frames, and the broken tool of untold power discarded to the side. It was truly amazing. And all his.

A masked soldier approached from his right side, having emerged from the same helicopter after speaking to the pilot.

"Sir, we only have the resources to transport one." They reported ruefully.

Their leader didn't spare them a glance, just altered his gaze between his options. The one on the left was smaller, blue with pink accents. A female, by whatever standards these aliens had. But he had already seen her in action, back when he first discovered their presence on Earth while attempting to steal the D.N.G.U.S. And here, now, she had failed to prove her mettle against this newcomer on the right.

Bigger, yet slim and curved unlike any of the other machines he had seen in the past. Red paint with white accents and designs. A male; naturally more aggressive. And the way it fought - moving with skill and agility and cunning - oh, what a beautiful sight that had been. This one was powerful. This one had potential.

The scarred man smiled, "Take the victor."

"A̴̢̨̧̛̙̞͕͇̅̋̈́̀͠r̵̛͉̺̼͂ͪç̭͡ȩ̸̛̥̪̣̼͛͆̀́̿ͮͪ̽͆̕ê̴̙͠?"

                     ...

                               "Â̸̛͔̱̗̔r̦̆͡c̺̰̀é̃͜e!?"

                                                   ...

                                                             "Arcee!"

"...Jack?" The Autobot groaned, cycling her optics several times.

Her visual feed was blurry, and several warning messages were piled up in the corner of her HUD. She fought to wake her systems and motor functions, barely paying attention to the concern her human charge was saying as she tested her recollection of events. The stray energon signal... A blinding shock...

Knockout.

Arcee gasped and flung herself upright, activating her blasters in defense.

Except, she didn't see the Decepticon medic anyway. The area was just as deserted as when she first groundbridged here. The ruined buildings were devoid of human or Cybertonian energy signatures. The sky was still a gloomy gray, full of clouds and rolling fog and a plume of volcanic dioxide particles.

She was alone.

"Jack," Arcee repeated, touching her audio receptor with a wince, "Let Ratchet know I need a groundbridge back to base. Stat."

The communication line cut a few kliks later when a swirling vortex opened beside her in shades of green, aqua and blue. Arcee stumbled to her pedes and clamped a delicate servo around the crest of her helm, feeling dizzy from the sudden movement. Still, she did her best to appear properly-functional, and walked through the groundbridge.

At the other end was the Autobot base: home. The tunnel that housed the portal equipment hummed with dissipating energy and creaked with cooling metal, familiar sounds that brought her a sense of comfort. The lights in the base were a bit bright, but she was able to ignore them in favor of focusing on the group of figures that waited for her in the main room.

Ratchet was near the groundbridge controls as usual, already looking over his teammate's frame as she walked closer. Bumblebee, Bulkhead, and Optimus were standing slightly off to the side, expressions twisted with varying degrees of worry. And Jack and Miko were up along the catwalks, leaning over the railing to get a better view of Arcee's return.

Only Raf was absent, as the young boy was away celebrating a family member's creation date.

Arcee sighed, unable to meet the stoic gaze of her leader, "I'm sorry, Optimus. I-"

"Eup, Ahp. You can debrief after a thorough medical examination. I'm already seeing signs of concussion aftermath." Ratchet interrupted, placing a sturdy servo on her pauldron.

He physically steered her in the direction of the shabby medical ward and gently guided her onto a makeshift berth, before activating the medical scanner built into his right gauntlet. A pellucid blue light doused her lean frame, focusing on her helm.

The Autobot medic hummed in contemplation after a breem of silence and transformed a single pointer digit into a miniature flashlight, slowly moving it in front of Arcee's optics, "Can you follow along?"

His patient completed the request with slight difficulty, but the results were satisfactory enough that he shut off the light.

"Your processor is intact; you just have a minor casing fracture in the forehelm. I unfortunately can't do anything for that, but warn you to take it easy. No missions. No heavy lifting or arduous tasks. You're on medical leave until it heals." Ratchet declared, moving to grab his frame welder and a stack of clean rags, "I can however take care of these cuts. So stay put."

The blue femme nodded minutely, and turned her attention to the heavy pedesteps that approached.

"Engaging the enemy on your own was foolish, Arcee." The authoritative tone Optimus opened with tampered into a softer one that was filled with concern, "Decepticons are capable of too much harm."

"Not Knockout. Besides, he jumped me - I knew I could take him." Arcee countered with a bite, pauldrons tensing. There was more about the interaction that went unsaid, but she didn't share, so Optimus didn't push.

"And... you did?" Jack asked nervously from the part of the rec platform that overlooked the medical wing.

"Duh, it's Arcee we're talking about here!" Miko exclaimed, nudging him in the side.

"Well... no." The femme winced, looking away from the enthusiastic human, "I... got slammed into one of the buildings, and passed out for a bit. When I came to, Knockout was just... gone. I remember hearing a helicopter overhead - it didn't sound like Arachnid, though - maybe Agent Fowler?"

"Not me." The human in question suddenly announced, appearing from the elevator shaft in the center of the rec platform, which led to his landing pad on the base's roof.

He walked over to the railing and gripped onto the metal, a scowl on his face that signified bad news, "But I have an idea who. Show me where this Con-napping occurred."

"Lord Megatron."

Starscream called as he stepped into the command deck aboard the Decepticon warship, the hallway doors folding closed behind him and Soundwave. The Communications Chief stood silently off to the side while the Second in Command approached their leader, who was faced away - previously occupied by a display of planetary readings on the main console.

"I fear Knockout has gone missing." The seeker announced, wings held high with the familiar twinge of frustration and intimidation.

"The Autobots?" Megatron guessed with a tired sigh, still not turning around to acknowledge the other's presence. He figured it was either the enemy faction causing problems, or the CMO had decided to detour from his mission for another unauthorized race. Something annoyingly simple like that.

"According to surveillance provided by the astonishingly accurate Soundwave,-" Starscream spit out as he glared at said Con over his pauldron, who simply moved toward a vacant console, "-Knockout was abducted by humans."

The former gladiator looked up from the glyphs on screen, "Your point?"

"My strongest recommendation; we assemble a rescue team to hunt the vermin responsible for this outrage." The Air Commander concluded, resting his servos on his hips with a smug smile. It was the only reasonable response, afterall-

"Knockout is on his own." Lord Megatron grumbled in response, his own servos finding a familiar fisted-state.

Starscream let out a strangled squawk of surprise, "Uh... Master?"

"If Knockout is so fond of those inferior lifeforms, then he deserves whatever fate awaits him in their filthy servos. Maybe it'll teach him a valuable lesson." His leader explained, sparing him a glance over his spiked pauldron.

"But Knockout is our medic! He's a key player in our..." The seeker trailed off when Megatron glared at him, reflectively raising his claws to protect himself, "...Your wisdom reigns supreme, Lord Megatron."

He clasped a servo over his spark chamber in mock loyalty and turned to leave the room, glaring down at the Cybertronium floor like his optics could melt it. But Soundwave stopped him by the doorway with a light touch to his pauldron, and displayed a single designation on his otherwise blank visor.

Breakdown.

Starscream huffed, but nodded, and disappeared from the command deck. He sped-walked through the purple-lit halls of the Nemesis, ignoring the few groups of Vehicon Troopers he passed, until he eventually stood before the closed door that led to the med bay. It wasn't the overwhelming amount of memories lurking within the room that made him pause, but the distinguishable sound of glass shattering and heavy objects getting thrown that he could hear, even through the sound-proofed alloy.

Hesitantly, he raised a servo and knocked on the door, before plugging in the override code to forcibly open it.

The med bay was in shambles: consoles were overturned, cabinet doors were ripped off their hinges, and snapped wires sparked from torn panels along the walls. Glass beakers and datapads laid shattered on the floor. One of the examination berths had a gigantic hammer-sized dent in the middle, which effectively crumpled the slab in on itself. Even a few of the overhead lights had been ripped from their outlets, raining down sparks from the electricity that still coursed through the open circuit network.

And Breakdown stood in the middle of the mechanical carnage.

His chest was heaving from exertion and emotion, vents unable to process enough air to properly cool his systems. His faceplate was a mess of coolant, pouring from his optics uncontrollably. He still had his hammer raised when he heard the med bay doors open, and froze in utter shame when Starscream met his disheveled gaze.

"When Soundwave and I advised you to expel your concern in a productive outlet, this is the furthest thing from what we meant." The Second in Command sighed, carefully stepping into the room.

"Well I'm sorry but I break things when I need an outlet!" Breakdown stressed, waving his hammer around to express his point, "What did you want me to do!? Sit down and knit a fragging blanket!? YOU LITERALLY TOLD ME MY PARTNER WAS KIDNAPPED!? HOW CAN YOU JUST EXPECT ME TO "BE COOL" WITH THAT!?"

Starscream cringed backward, but managed to push through his internal fear to cautiously place a placating servo on his comrade's shaking weapon, "I don't. And I can't give you reassurance on Megatron's behalf, either. He..." -Oh Primus, this isn't going to be taken well- "He refused to form a rescue party."

"WHaT!?" The shriek was so high that Breakdown's voice box cracked, "B-But he's our only licensed medic! Why wouldn't he-!?"

"I know. I tried to say the same thing." The seeker interrupted, a reassuring smile etching its way onto his faceplate, "But, come on Breakdown, when have I ever listened to Megatron?"

The cobalt mech paused at that, somewhat brought back from his pit of despair, and let his hammer fall to his side.

"Y-You'll find him?" He croaked in disbelief, smearing the coolant across his faceplate with the back of a servo.

"Yes. I can take a small squadron of Eradicons with me under the guise of a patrol. I'll have to wait a little while before that action wouldn't be considered suspicious, but I know Knockout can hold his own until I get there." Starscream promised, tapping his chin in thought.

"Thank you, Commander. But... why?"

"Becuase believe it or not, I've grown to...tolerate Knockout's presence. His over bearing concern. Annoying sarcasm. And I owe Knockout for repairing me last time… A seeker doesn't leave a debt unpaid." He muttered, turning to leave the med bay now that he had successfully calmed his comrade,

"Now clean this mess up. Knockout may require the services of a properly-functioning med bay when we return."

A crescendo of high-pitch tinnitus was the first signal of sensation to return. It clouded his audio receptors from any other sound, and filled his helm even worse than the warnings spread across his HUD.

Knockout groaned, clearing the notifications so that he had a clear view when he finally cracked open his optics. It was blurry, but immediately he realized something was wrong. A blinding white rod of light was hanging over his helm, secured to a tiled ceiling in murky shades of greenish gray.

This wasn't the place he fought Arcee-!

...A high, crackling whine caught his audio receptors moments before white and blue filled his vision… The last thing he acknowledged through the blackened haze was the faint sound of whipping blades somewhere above him...

The medic gasped, optics fully clearing as he scanned his surroundings more thoroughly. Large mechanical tools were on either side of his vision, similar to the ones in his med bay, yet so foreign. These weren't Cybertronian. The saw blades and drill bits were clearly human-made materials.

"Huh? What!?" He startled, attempting to move his limbs as panic surged through his lines.

Yet there was a clang of metal, and his gauntlets hit into a pair of restraints. He struggled for a breem longer, kicking his pedes and twisting his wrists, but the clamps wouldn't budge. He couldn't transform his servos in the little room they had. He couldn't free himself.

The efforts were futile, and only served to tire himself. Knockout sucked in stale air tainted with dioxides and axel grease, desperate to find an escape or a source of help, and darted his gaze around again.

If he strained his helm downward, he could see a set of fleshy-sized stairs that led to a catwalk in front of him, lined with yellow-painted railings. Large orange screens and matching consoles sat on it, and - oh Primus… why was a diagnostic of his figure on the digital display!?

A metallic scrape originating from the left of the screens snapped the red mech from his panic, and even more white light flowed through the opening doorway. He watched as three humans stalked onto the catwalk near his pedes, nearly identical in their padded uniforms, head coverings, and handheld guns - except for the first one, who wasn't wearing a mask.

"Filthy fleshies! How dare you ruin my finish! Who do you think you are!?" Knockout barked, giving the restraints on his wrists another attempted tug.

"We are MECH." The unmasked man replied in a tone that sent chills down his captive's spinal strut, "And I.. am Silas."

"And I.. don't give a frag! I should have your helm for befouling my paint job!" The racer spat, burying his chin in his collar mesh in an attempt to better glare at the humans on the catwalk, "How 'bout this; you release me, I let you live, and we part ways like nothing ever happened?"

"I'm afraid you're far too valuable to us." This Silas rebutted, still in that calm, cryptic voice as he clasped his hands behind his back.

Knockout scoffed, "Ah, I see. You want a ransom. I've had a few of those already, and lemme tell you, they didn't end well. For my captor, I mean. Breakdown pays in property damage and medical bills."

Saying his partner's name was like tossing out a lifeline. He could already imagine Breakdown charging into whatever base this was and wrecking the place. He'd hunt down every human who dared to hurt him, and carry him out of the ruins conjunx-style...

"Oh, you misunderstand. We don't want a ransom. We want only you." Silas countered again, sending the racer a calculated look, "All of you."

The Autobots surrounded Ratchet's station by the monitors as he pulled up a set of coordinates on screen, zooming in on a specific spot of Earth with a couple of clicks and beeps.

"This is where we picked up Arcee." He exclaimed, turning toward Agent Fowler for further insight on their current situation.

"The Kamchatka Peninsula in Eastern Russia: much of it was abandoned 20 years ago when its volcano first erupted. My intel reported MECH activity there earlier today." The human liaison informed, addressing each member of Team Prime as he spoke.

"MECH?" Miko clarified with slight confusion from where she stood beside him, "You mean those techie guys?"

"The very ones who know of our existence on your planet." Ratchet sighed, shaking his helm. He knew the direction this conversation was taking, and it did not bode well for their kind.

"They must've tracked one of you there." Bulkhead supplied, nudging Arcee's newly-repaired pauldron.

"But what would they want with Knockout?" Jack then questioned, folding a hand under his chin in thought.

"What's it matter? They can have him." The blue femme huffed in response, uncrossing her arms to wave a dismissive servo in his direction.

Bumblebee chirped in agreement and Bulkhead laughed, but neither Ratchet nor Optimus were as amused. An abduction was still just that, no matter what faction the captive belonged to. And as a medic, Knockout was supposed to be protected from such a crime by the Cybertronian War Conventions. Of course MECH would be unaware of such a treaty, and even still they would probably ignore it, but as Autobots, Optimus felt compelled to offer the Decepticon CMO assistance.

"Ratchet, reactivate the previous groundbridge coordinates. We will rescue Knockout." He declared, receiving a quick nod from his own CMO before the rest of their team burst into shouts of refusal:

"Optimus, you can't be serious!"

<< No way! >>

"Why? Let the Cons rescue their own!"

"It is unlikely that Megatron would bother with an errand of mercy, even for his medic. He believes one must escape on their own, or they are not worthy to remain a Decepticon." The leader of the Autobots sighed, reminiscing times in the past where similar situations had happened between hostages and their leader.

"But this is Knockout we're talking about! He's, like, textbook definition of a narcissist!" Bulkhead groaned, to which Miko nodded in approval.

"Sometimes, we must rise above ourselves for the greater good." Optimus imparted, particularly directing his gaze at Arcee.

She took the look and his words about as well as he expected; "Sir, you can't really be considering this!? Knockout is volatile and self-important - there's nothing we could gain from helping him! He's not gonna be appreciative and suddenly join the cause!"

"While it is unlikely that any Decepticon would choose the path of good, even they possess the potential for change. Whatever transgression occurred between you should not serve as a justifiable bias to deny him assistance." The semi-truck warned.

Bumblebee quietly beeped in understanding, pauldrons slumping as he shuffled closer to the groundbridge. Bulkhead, too, moved to prepare for the upcoming mission, but Arcee stood rooted in place - gauntlets crossed and a scowl on her faceplate.

"Tch, I knew where this was headed." She hissed, glaring down at the concrete floor.

"By greater good, I meant humankind." Optimus urged again, determined to make his teammate see reason, "MECH presents a clear and present danger."

"Prime's right, Arcee." Agent Fowler cut in, walking closer to the blue femme from atop the catwalks, "We know MECH is obsessed with obtaining groundbreaking technology. Any kind of firepower superweapon they collect could be used to overthrow our country's government, and endanger the entire population."

The Autobot leader rested a heavy servo on Arcee's left pauldron, forcing her to meet his concerned gaze, "Which means we cannot allow Cybertronian biology to fall into their hands."

Knockout continued to struggle against the restraints on his wrists and ankles while Silas and his men went over something on the monitors. His wheel struts were aching, cramped underneath his back with such an amount of pressure that every time he moved his pauldrons, he felt as though they would be ripped from his protoform. His optics stung underneath the harsh glare of the white light and tiny pricks of coolant began to form in the corners, but he refused to let them fall. These MECH fleshies already knew he was panicking - they didn't need to see him cry, too.

"You know, it's rude to discuss information about your patient privately when they're still in the room. Where's the berthside manner?" The medic tutted, turning toward sarcasm to hide his anxiety.

Silas silently sighed and motioned for his two seated operatives to continue prepping the equipment for dissection, before stepping away from the consoles to address his captive,

"Forgive us; we're eager to begin. It has been quite some time since our last breakthrough. You should be honored; your very kind is a technological wonder on this planet."

He stood before the catwalk railing and placed his hands on his hips, smiling down at Knockout with child-like glee.

"I would be honored if I wasn't strapped to a table right now! I've never been on the receiving end in this situation - usually it's me with the blades, looming over somebot else!" The Decepticon hissed, jerking against the clamps around his wrists again. If he could just get a servo free- "What do you even want with me!? Why didn't you take Arcee instead!?"

"Why, we intend to pull you apart. Break you down, if you will. And we will utilize whatever we discover to develop a new generation of weaponry." Silas boasted, snapping the left set of his fingers.

Knockout wanted to question how he managed that action with gloves on, but couldn't wrap his glossa on the correct words before he was suddenly very aware of tiny limbs climbing up his right stabilizer and along his lower torso. A masked agent appeared in his line of sight as they stepped onto his abdomen, and the overhead lights became blocked by a set of twin saw blades that whirred to life and approached his chassis.

The racer wanted to snap at this human's audacity to even dare touching his finish, but the rage in his spark was snuffed into immediate fear when he met their disturbing, orange-goggled gaze. And he thought Soundwave's silent, faceless appearance was freaky!

"I'm afraid that you won't survive the process, so thank you in advance for your sacrifice. MECH is very much in your debt." Silas continued, redirecting his captive's attention as he descended the staircase on the left and walked over.

He stopped near his helm and clasped his hands behind his back, evidently enjoying being able to stare down at him with that same unsettling smile. Knockout paused his fight against the metal restraints, processor finally catching up the situation with the slimmest margin of hope. There was an opportunity here, one that - if he played his cards right - could free him.

"Wait-! I'm the Chief Medical Officer for my team. It's my job to know everything about our biology - I can just tell you whatever it is you wanna know! Systems, internals, bioweapons, cosmetics; I've played with 'em all!” He offered, even tacking on a nervous laugh at the end.

Now it was Silas' turn to pause, contemplating the idea for a moment while his operative waited patiently from atop the Decepticon's chassis.

"Your proposition is intriguing, machine." The leader of MECH eventually began, squatting beside whatever platform his captive was strapped to.

Knockout's spark fluttered hopefully-

"But we cannot rely on the credibility of your information. Any knowledge you may disclose is likely warped with false leads; lies used to earn your freedom." Silas continued, shattering any glimmer of opportunity he once had, "That being said, we will have the chance to learn any true medical knowledge you possess by ourselves, when we dissect your central processing unit."

The cherry-red Cybertronian felt his tanks twist, his throat constricting around a lump of dread and half-digested energon. His only offer didn't work. Breakdown still had yet to save him. His communications center was blocked. He was restrained. He was going to die.

"Given that you are familiar with the grotesque nature of medical endeavors, I trust you aren't squeamish." Silas continued, a smug smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, "So I'll allow you to watch us work."

He turned to look at the awaiting soldier on Knockout's abdomen, "Open him up."

The medic's optic twitched, threatening to spill coolant as it followed Silas' gaze to the human that had crawled up his plating, intake ajar and spark pounding in its chamber. They waved a gloved hand to signify the looming machines into action, and a large drill on the side began spinning threateningly as it descended. The operative grabbed hold of a handle on the device, guiding it slightly so that it was in line with Knockout's right optic, and brought it ever closer to the biomechanic.

The racer trembled, instinctively trying to twist his helm away from the drill bit, but there was only so far back he could go. He slammed his servos against the metal clamps - desperate - as he helplessly watched it get closer. And closer. And closer-

Knockout screamed.

"Arcee, per Ratchet's advice, I ask you to remain behind and handle groundbridge controls for when we are ready to return. As for you, old friend, I must request that you join the mission instead. Knockout may be in need of another medic." Optimus instructed, standing before the activated vortex.

Bumblebee and Bulkhead were at his side, while Arcee, Ratchet, and their three human friends stood near the control station.

"Locked and loaded, Optimus." The old medic agreed, stepping away from the main console with a portable scanner in his servos

His leader nodded, "Autobots, roll out!"

The team turned and transformed, speeding through the swirling groundbridge in a roar of synchronized engines and squealing tires. Arcee sighed and pulled the control lever down, effectively shutting off the transport tunnel's power. It crackled with dissipating energy for a klik, before fading into a warm darkness, leaving the Autobot to stare at the place her teammates disappeared through. To go save a Decepticon, of all missions.

"Fine. Happy hunting." She huffed, slowly directing her attention back to the trio of humans that stood on the rec platform.

"Come on, Arcee: you gotta tell us what made you so mad at Knockout!" Miko burst, leaning over the yellow-painted railing, "I've never seen you so mad!"

"I have." Jack muttered, gripping onto his friend's shoulder to keep her from falling, "You don't have to say anything, Arcee. But it honestly might help to tell someone; get it off your chest. I know my mom would tell me the same thing."

The blue femme sighed again, though it tampered into a growl, "I was stupid. I let my emotions get the better of me. I should've known Knockout was just trying to get a rise out of me, and I played right into his servos!"

"What did he say?" Agent Fowler chimed in from where he was leaning against one of the human-sized consoles.

"...He insulted Cliffjumper."

Everyone in the room cringed. Yeah, that would definitely be enough to piss Arcee off.

Miko deflated and stared down at the floor, biting her lower lip. Jack walked over to his Cybertronian friend and placed a comforting hand on her pauldron, patting it a couple of times while he thought of something to say. Agent Fowler beat him to it:

"He was a good bot. We'll all miss him, even if he was a nutcase." The human liaison murmured, crossing his arms with a reminiscent chuckle, "God, there were so many police reports I had to run interference for. "Suspect is a red muscle car with cattle horn hood ornaments - last spotted at the scene of this crime - traveling at double the speed limit - traffic violations this - traffic violations that"..."

A sad, slightly amused puff of air from Arcee's vents responded to his impressions of past reports, "Yeah... Cliff never did get accustomed to Earth road regulations. He was a daredevil, up until the very end..."

She hugged her arms, a distant look in her optics as she glanced at one of the tunnels, "I'm gonna go visit him. I'll be on the roof if you need anything."

Jack watched her disappear down the dimly-lit corridor in a few somber steps, pedes clicking against the concrete floor until they were no more than an echo, "Sure, Arcee. Whatever you need."

The groundbridge swirled to life in the same clearing Arcee returned from, still as gloomy and desolate as before, though somehow even darker. The Autobots sped through and drifted into their root-forms, blasters deployed and pointed in various directions for immediate threats. They all surveyed the bleak surroundings except for Ratchet, who tilted his scanner for potential signals, trust entirely placed in his team while he was otherwise engaged.

"No signs of life; human or Cybertronian." Optimus observed, lowering his weapons.

His followers repeated the disengagement, and Bumblebee began beeping in notice, pointing at something a few meters away. There, displacing the dirt, were distinct tire tracks swirling behind one of the nearby buildings, accompanied by pede scuff marks and a suspicious Arcee-sized dent in the structure's exterior.

"Forget the tracks, Bumblebee." Ratchet denied as his scanner joined the beeping, his voice edging on panicked, "I'm picking up a faint energon signal; three clicks north by northwest."

"Knockout." Optimus concluded.

"But we shouldn't be getting a reading, unless..." Bulkhead trailed off, shaking his helm in disbelief.

"His energon's been spilled." The Autobot medic finished, closing his optics. He knew the signal wasn't due to injuries Knockout sustained during his fight with Arcee. But to even envision whatever horrors MECH was inflicting upon the young Decepticon…

They needed to find him. Fast.

The main room in the Autobot base was dark, as the lights were all off but a few lamps on the rec platform, and echoed with high-pitch screams and fake blaster fire. Jack, Miko, and Agent Fowler were watching a movie on the TV (action, because that was the only thing Miko would agree to watch), though the human liaison had long since fallen asleep on the couch.

Miko was in the middle of complaining about how pointless the villain's backstory was when light pedesteps approached from one of the dark hallways. Arcee appeared a few kliks later, optics damp from shed coolant that gleamed in the glow of the TV.

"Hey, Arcee. Feeling any better?" Jack called, directing her over to the platform with a wave from the back of the couch.

"Yeah. It was getting too cold to stay out, anyway." She replied, glancing around at the familiar shadows, "Still no update from Optimus?"

"Nope." Miko chirped back, popping the "p."

Arcee frowned at that. Her teammates were pretty good about checking in once in a while, if they didn't keep an open line of communication with Ratchet at base in general. What was with the radio silence? She was able to comm earlier when she was attacked, so she knew it wasn't an atmospheric disturbance. Was it something MECH did? Or were Knockout and the other Decepticons the cause..?

She glanced at the groundbridge controls skeptically.

"Theoretically..." The blue femme ventured, placing her servos on her hips, "How disappointed do you think Optimus and Ratchet would be if I, say, ignored medical leave and followed them through the groundbridge?"

Jack's eyebrows creased in confusion, "Uh, probably ver-"

"DO IT!!!" Miko interrupted with a cackle, springing up from her place on the couch, "You should totally go! Knockout would be dumbfounded if you were the one to save him! Oh, he'd never live it down! We'd never let him!!!"

She ran over to the railing with surprising speed and grabbed Arcee's pauldron, barely shaking it but still making her enthusiasm clear, "Doesn't that sound like the perfect payback!?"

The Autobot had to hand it to her: that idea did sound pretty fun.

"I dunno. What if something happens out there? You are injured." Jack interjected, ever the voice of reason.

"But she's fine! Ratchet even said it was a minor fracture - she can handle it!" The girl countered, suddenly getting an idea and running over to Agent Fowler, who was still somehow asleep throughout her outburst.

"Agent Fowler; can Arcee go on a mission? Please?" She begged, shaking his shoulder.

"Mnh... course, soldier. I'll handle... further reports.....” The liaison mumbled drowsily, before falling back into a deeper slumber.

"Technically, that was a yes." Miko translated, looking up at Arcee with that mischievous sparkle in her eye, "We can handle communications and groundbridge stuff while you're gone. Don't worry."

The femme nodded, and reactivated the transport tunnel. She walked through and was immediately hit with a wall of volcanic oxides and a residue of smoke, surroundings dark and foggy just as she left them. The abandoned buildings seemed to encroach closer with their silence, but Arcee ignored them in favor of checking the ground for clues.

Tire tracks caught her attention instantly, swerving around buildings in a southbound direction. The treads didn't belong to any of her teammates upon further inspection; they were MECH's. She transformed without a second thought, turned her headlight on, and floored it after her target's marks.

Meanwhile, the rest of Team Prime weaved between buildings as they followed Ratchet's scanner, blasters pointed at every corner they passed. The display was touching, if a little overzealous, but it allowed the old medic to focus his attention solely on the approaching signal while his friends covered him from all sides.

He paused at one point when the road branched into multiple directions, "This way."

They walked in silence for a few more breems, minus the overlapping pedesteps, scanner beeps, and rustling wind. It was unsettling, both the lack of external sound and movement. It didn't look like MECH was here at all.

But then a massive, abandoned mansion came into view, and Ratchet's portable scanner started singing rapidly. Bumblebee ran ahead first, ducking behind a crumbling rock wall and pointing his weapons at the dozens of shattered windows. Bulkhead advanced afterward, focused on the main entrance, where large wooden doors hid the building's interior. Ratchet and Optimus brought up the rear, the leader's blasters trained on the place they recently left while his CMO plowed ahead.

"Reading's coming from right... here." Ratchet noted, dropping his device to look at the place it had led them to.

The Autobots circled a large stone fountain in the front courtyard of the mansion, though it was clear there hadn't been any water flowing through it for a while. The stone was covered in ashes, dirt, and mildew; perfectly matching the rest of the area. Yet a small object rested on the top of it, drastically different from the bleak podium it rested on.

Shiny, round with a flat cord swirling out from underneath it. Sitting in a shallow pool of energon, which glowed dimly. Tiny lines of red biolights streaked around the sphere's curves to meet in the center, where a deep, jagged hole penetrated straight through the middle. It was horrifying. It was nauseating. It was-

"Knockout's optic." Ratchet breathed, followed by a chorus of quiet gasps or gags from his teammates.

He hesitantly reached out and cradled the desecrated biomechanic, wiping off whatever energon he could as he examined the nature of the ragged hole. It was a brutal tear, force and no precision. Whatever tool extracted it had gouged straight through the anterior chamber and vitreous body, stopping right before it tore through the back of the processor connection line. It was animalistic.

Finished with his observation, the Autobot medic raised his scanner and inserted the ripped line into a port on top of it, watching the data filter into the device. The optic buzzed for a klik, flickering red in an attempt to activate, but failed with a stream of warnings that popped up on the screen.

"Woah, what are you doing?" Bulkhead asked, he and the rest of Team Prime circling Ratchet to see what the scanner had to reveal.

"The optic receptors might have retained the final images seen, assuming I can access the feed, given the damage." The CMO responded, pressing a few buttons to bypass the flood of diagnostic warnings.

Eventually, the screen flickered to a new menu, and a green-tinted playback began.

Everyone was immediately disgusted to see a MECH operative in view, goggles staring down at the optic blankly. The view was blurry, blinded by an overhead light and wobbly with unshed coolant, paired with the rattling movement of Knockout's helm jerking this way and that. His vision became obstructed by a spinning drill bit, which the human soldier guided closer to the feed no matter how Knockout tried to twist his faceplate away. The scanner's speakers transitioned from heavy vents and panicked banging to a crescendo of whirring, before there was a sudden scream and the whole screen glitched to sparks and static.

Ratchet gasped, while Bumblebee and Bulkhead recoiled backward.

<< Was that-!? >>

The scanner glitched again, and suddenly Silas' ugly mug was on screen. The background was a small office space; desks and monitors and a stack of papers. It was dark - no clue where the room was located - and hard to see much else beside the human staring back at them.

"Well, well. Optimus Prime, a pleasure to set eyes on you again." He chuckled, crossing his arms.

"He's converted the optic to a two-way feed." Ratchet hissed, instinctively holding the device away from him like it would burn.

"And you must be Silas." Optimus intoned back, battlemask drawn to hide the scowl that his voice implied was pulling at his intake.

"In the flesh." The leader of MECH agreed with another chuckle, "But given that our captive is not one of yours, I have to admit, I was expecting Breakdown."

"In this circumstance, Autobots and Decepticons share a common foe."

"MECH is anything but common. Our guest is yielding quite a bit of information about your biomechanics. Truly fascinating stuff, I must admit." Silas commented, shrugging.

"Where is Knockout?" Ratchet growled then, clenching his scanner with enough force to make the metal groan under his digits. He was sick of this human's game. The war had already cost Cybertronians enough lives - humans didn't need to add another to the list.

"Oh, you can't hear him?" Silas puffed in near amusement, gloved fingers moving somewhere below the screen, "Here, let me turn up the volume on my side of things."

That was the last word he spoke before the portable scanner's speakers involuntarily increased, and two different spark-wrenching sounds came through. The first was a grinding buzz of overlapping drills and saws, screeching against metal alloys. The second was still a screech, but produced from a vocalizer. The sound was raw and agonizing - screams broken by choked sobs and glitched mechanics.

Knockout.

Ratchet wanted to purge. Bulkhead had enough space in his processor to cover Bumblebee's audio receptors, but neither he nor the young scout could tear their optics away from the madman on screen. Optimus took a steadying invent as Silas mercifully turned his microphone down again, to the point where it was only his voice that registered. But still, everybot was blatantly aware of the echoing shrieks coming from outside his office.

The human leaned back in his chair, a grin slipping onto his scarred face, "I considered taking out his voice box when we first began, but I suppose we've adjusted to the noise enough to ignore it now."

Noise. Like the sound was an inconvenience and not desperation.

"Knockout is a medic, Silas." Optimus began, tone deceptively calm despite the several times he had to restart his voice box, "This is a war crime I cannot punish lightly. You will suffer the consequences of your actions."

"Nobility doesn't further science, Prime. Sacrifice does." The leader of MECH retorted, glancing at something off-screen, "In fact, I would strongly urge that you not stand your ground."

He grinned, and cut the feed.

"It's a trap!" Optimus realized just as he heard a faint beep coming from the fountain they all stood before.

That was all the warning the Autobots needed to double back the way they came, transforming in an attempt to out-drive the approaching detonation. It worked to an extent, taking them away from ground zero but not enough to escape the full blast. The ground shook with a deafening explosion and flames ignited in their rear-view mirrors, the momentum flinging them further away toward the buildings. They transformed to ground themselves, digging their pedes, knee pads, or servos into the dirt as they all skid backward.

The Bots stared up at the flaming courtyard they stood in mere moments ago, slowly rising to their pedes. Optimus helped Ratchet up and silently urged him to remove the broken optic from his scanner, which the medic begrudgingly checked for any viruses.

"So, where do you think they're holding the rest of Knockout?" Bulkhead wondered, dusting off some ash from his pauldron.

For once, no one had an answer.

Arcee slunk between the endless maze of destroyed buildings, following MECH's tracks but sticking to the protection of the structures' shadows. She even ducked into a few of them when they were large enough, and always kept her gauntlet blades drawn.

She traveled quietly for what seemed like jorns before the distant sound of an engine caught her attention: a six cylinder whine. Not the familiar rumble of Bumblebee. Not the roar of Knockout.

The blue femme watched one of MECH's signature green sports cars drive past in a dutiful, unalarmed patrol route. She dropped into her alt-mode and crept after it, keeping her headlight off and her engine low. It led her away from the dense neighborhood and past a broken bus stop, where the vehicle disappeared into a dark tunnel cutting through a relatively large hillside. Scragley pine trees stood atop the mound, adding to the eerie feel of the place.

Arcee transformed and deployed her right bioweapon, glancing back the way she came before trailing after her target into the pitch black base entrance.

She figured it would probably be smart to call the rest of her team at this point and inform them of her discovery, since they weren't already here, but when she reached a digit up to her audial only static greeted her. She tried her communication center twice before she gave up, figuring she was too close to MECH's signal disrupters to get a message out.

The Autobot sighed and continued down the tunnel, straining her audio receptors for any obvious sounds of human or Cybertronian life. The car she was tailing was gone, no engine to be heard, but she knew she was in the right place. The tunnel was big enough to get a Bot Bulkhead's size through here, and the air buzzed with active electricity running through overhead currents, not to mention the signal dampeners.

Hope the rest of the team's okay. She thought, walking around a slight bend when she suddenly heard it. Distant, faint. But there.

A grinding screech of metal.

And a guttural scream in agony.

And then a random perforated metal wall blocked her advance; the source of the sound hidden behind it. Knockout was in there, and still alive.

Arcee glanced at every spot on the metal wall for weak points, noticing a clear crease running up the middle where two sliding halves connected. No matter how thick those doors were, she could force it open if she pried that center crease apart. Determined, she swapped her blasters out for blades and slashed at the line, flinging sparks around her frame and the floor. She continued her onslaught against the base's entrance as she listened to the constant screeching inside, finding herself panicked the longer it continued.

He deserved this. He deserved this. She repeated, failing to steel her resolve when a particularly high scream rang through the thick alloy.

The blue femme slashed the door again, hard enough this time that her blade lodged itself into the crease. She drove the blade in deeper, pushing her body weight against it until she sliced through an internal mechanism, and alarms started blaring from the other side.

Knockout's cries became more prominent when the surrounding machines died down in response to the alarm, though he too had quieted to sobs and not shrieks. It cleared Arcee's processor enough that she could focus through the sirens and rapidly approaching footsteps, and rocked her gauntlet blade between the door halves, adding a groan of protesting metal to the soundscape.

MECH knew she was here. She just had to hope Knockout was light enough that she could carry him out while defending them against the humans.

And so with a furious shout, the Autobot ripped into the crease and wedged it open, throwing the door aside so she had access to the agents inside.

The immediate rain of bullets were trivial against her armour: she tore through their ranks with both her blades and her blasters, uncaring how many were injured or killed underneath her pedes as she ran. There was light coming from around another bend up ahead, not only from the white tunnel lights, but the sickly teal glow of energon. It was pooling in shallow indents on the floor, leading Arcee closer until it traced back to the frame it once coursed within.

"B-Breakdown?" Knockout croaked out to her, voice raw and hoarse.

He tilted his helm back as far it would go in order to see his rescuer upside-down, optics widening when he saw who approached.

Well, optic.

The gouged ocular socket was nauseating; jagged edges and frayed wires and gushing energon. Knockout's chest plates were just as torn as his faceplate; ripped back in unnatural angles to reveal a mangled engine and the dented casing for his spark chamber. Energon spilled from everything, coating most of his chassis in glowing lifeblood as it dripped between joints and soaked the dissection slab he was strapped to.

Arcee noted the lack of other MECH operatives and wordlessly walked closer, eyeing the metal clamps around his wrists and ankles. Half the joints looked broken, subspace compartments pried open, a pauldron snapped loosely. MECH had cut open just about everything they could without freeing Knockout from the restraints. It wasn't a pretty sight, to say the least.

"Not Breakdown." Arcee teased lightly, lining her gauntlet blade with the clamp on the Decepticon's left wrist.

She sliced through it with one swipe and moved to do the other, letting Knockout watch her with the most satisfying EM field of shock. He tested his freed servo and winced, before a shuddering exvent left his choked systems.

"W-what are you doing?" He questioned in a whisper, fighting through the pain to roll his dislocated pauldron.

"Getting you out of here." Arcee replied, summoning all of the courage and warmth she could muster into her own EM field as she offered a servo down to him, "Yeah, I don't believe it either."

Knockout flinched from the sudden extension, but hesitantly reached out to take her servo, grip dangerously limp from energon loss. Arcee gently pulled him up into a sitting position before cutting through the restraints on his ankles, monitoring him in the corner of her optic as she worked - either out of concern or paranoia she didn't know.

But the medic just sat there numbly, hunched over his own frame with his functioning servo held protectively against his spark chamber and coolant steadily leaking from his remaining optic. He didn't complain about his finish, or his vision, or any of the millions of warnings that were surely crowding his HUD. Just waited for Arcee to get the last clamp off.

"Alright, let's get you up." The blue femme announced, tossing the metal to the side.

She reached down again and lifted Knockout's functional arm over her neck, wrapped her other servo around his waist, and carefully rose. He wobbled and let out a hiss, knee pads buckling under the strain, but forced himself upright with Arcee's help.

"Can you walk?" She asked, urging him to lean more of his weight on her, "Neither of us will be able to get a signal out until we clear the base's premises. And MECH's sure to be waiting for us outside."

"I-I think so." The racer gasped, testing his pedes with a cautious step.

When he didn't immediately crumple, they began the arduous journey back toward the base's entrance. There was a small detour when Knockout remembered his energy prod was in a different research room off the main shoot, which Arcee quickly retrieved and dropped into the compartment in his dorsal plating. Otherwise, the trek was relatively quick and quiet, save for Knockout's squealing joints, overworked vents, and gasps of flaring pain.

Still, their moment of reprieve didn't last long.

The instant they stepped into range of the tunnel entrance, able to see the gloomy skyline, rows of MECH soldiers were pelting them with rounds from their handheld weapons. Identical green automobiles swerved into view with stronger guns mounted to the roofs, while a servoful of helicopters circled them from the sky, spotlights pinned on their glowing frames.

Arcee let go of Knockout's pauldron to attack the nearest vehicles with her own bioweapons, allowing her temporary comrade to shield his spark chamber from the incoming projectiles. The Autobot blew out the tires of one car, sending it spiraling into another, before launching herself over both to grab hold of the lowest helicopter. She swung herself upward and kicked out the propeller blades, leaping away as the carrier crashed to the ground.

"You got some sort of escape plan, dear?" The Decepticon grunted when she landed beside him, twisting his torso so that majority of the bullets pinged off his dorsal plating.

"Yeah, but you're not gonna like it." Arcee laughed humorlessly, firing at another green automobile as she raised a digit to her audio receptor, "Arcee to Optimus: rendezvous at my coordinates. I need backup!" She shouted over the storm of gunfire.

Knockout spared her an appalled glance before a lucky shot dug itself into his dislocated pauldron and he yelped, whipping around to glare at the helicopters in the sky. There were three of them remaining, and his scowl deepened when he recognized Silas inside the middle one.

A massive gun, similar to the fusion cannon his leader was equipped with, dropped from the underside of it, a pulsing blue glow growing from the barrel as it charged up energy.

The medic gasped in realization and ran toward Arcee, slamming his frame into hers as the massive shot rang through the airspace. They crashed to the ground just in time, crackling energy whizzing past their helms and obliterating the tunnel entrance instead. The Cybertronians glanced at the destruction, and then each other, surprise and gratitude mingling through their EM fields.

"You're welcome." Knockout panted, pushing his servo against his mangled chest plates again.

Arcee nodded minutely and hoisted both of them up again, keeping him slightly behind her as she fired her blasters at Silas' helicopter.

Inside the cockpit, the human psycho and his co-pilot prepared another round, swiftly locking on to the two Cybertronians huddled together. The mechanism beeped in confirmation, but as the masked agent moved his hand to locate the execution button, they noticed five signals appear on the proximity scanner. It was a V-shaped flight-formation of jets barreling in their direction; unmarked by local law enforcement, but unique in their energy signatures.

"Sir, incoming bogeys." They reported, glancing at their leader.

Silas glared between the approaching radar signals and the injured Autobot/Decepticon duo defending against his other soldiers, but quickly conceded and grabbed a radio from the dashboard,

"All units... disengage and initiate Omega Protocols." He growled in disappointment.

On the ground, Arcee and Knockout watched as MECH's swarm of vehicles and agents suddenly began to cut loose, firing occasional covering shots as they sped away or took off into the darkness of the sky. Their retreat was confusing to both of them, but that didn't stop Arcee from shooting at anyone she could reach before the green cars vanished into the buildingscape.

"Glitch." Knockout spat as Silas' copter fled into the cloud cover as well.

The blue femme deactivated her blasters once she was sure they were safe, and guided Knockout against her side again, functional arm draped over her pauldrons. She didn't exactly want to be a personal crutch for him, but she was aware how badly he was struggling to support his own weight right now. He looked about ready to fall into stasis lock.

"What now, meine dame?" The red mech sputtered in a poor attempt at flattery, exvents coming out rapid and sharp.

"Wait for my backup, I guess? Unless you wanna try contacting yours. Ratchet's coming to help, if that changes anything." Arcee offered, watching their desolate surroundings.

Another sound was registering to her audio receptors; different from MECH's modes of transport but still mechanical. She wanted to dismiss it as echoes from the landscape or memory files playing subconsciously, but with the way the other Cybertronian stiffened, she knew it was unlikely.

"Your backup?" Knockout guessed, weak gaze directed at the overcast skyline.

Arcee was about to respond when the faint sound turned into a roar of jet engines, and five dark figures descended from the clouds in response for her. She made out the shape of their models just as the squadron split through the air in their direction, pulling up at the last second with a screech of transforming parts.

Starscream and four Eradicons landed with skilled grace, kicking up a small plume of dirt as they stood to their full height.

"Herr Kommandant!" Knockout greeted with a gasp, nearly choking at the sight of a familiar faceplate.

He stumbled forward, forgetting that Arcee currently held 80% of him upright, and basically crashed into the seeker with a sob. Starscream awkwardly accepted the embrace and patted his dorsal plating a couple times, grimacing at the energon that immediately coated his claws.

"And just what do you think you're doing here, Autobot?" He quickly barked at the femme, motioning his troop to provide himself and the medic with a buffer between their enemy.

"I saved him from MECH." She snarked back, resting her servos on her hips.

"No, that's what I am here to do! I'm risking my spark to be here - don't you dare take that initiative away from me!" The Decepticon Second in Command rebutted, shifting on his pedes when his comrade slumped further against his front.

"Star, please don't fight. I just wanna go home..." Knockout breathed, burying the in-tact side of his faceplate in the seeker's neck as if to hide the coolant that streamed from his remaining optic again, "I-I need Breakdown..."

"Ah... Breakdown, right." Starscream sighed, remembering the state he had left the other Con in.

He glanced at Arcee once more, but the fire in his gaze had simmered - replaced by regret, concern, and almost, almost a glimmer of appreciation.

"Go." The lone Autobot puffed, shaking her helm, "Just remember this the next time we meet on the battlefield."

As if to answer her summons, a clamor of pedesteps erupted from behind a building on the other side of the clearing, and the rest of Team Prime rushed onto the scene. Their blasters were already out and firing the moment they saw the Decepticons, to which Starscream growled and demanded Soundwave open a groundbridge through his communications center.

A swirling vortex opened immediately, and the Air Commander heaved his friend through while the Eradicons protected their return from the rear. Arcee barely managed to catch sight of the genuine smile Knockout offered her before he disappeared, but she did see it. And suddenly that simple gesture meant more to her than words ever could.

She didn't recognize their groundbridge had already closed until Optimus was at her side, the rest of her teammates close behind.

"Engaging the enemy on your own was even more foolish this time, Arcee." The Autobot leader criticized, battle mask falling away to reveal a proud smile, "But I am honored you saw fit to rescue Knockout. I must ask you to report your solo mission once we return to base, and you receive a proper medical examination."

The blue femme nodded, and silently followed everybot through the groundbridge their human friends soon activated for them.

She dutifully beared through Ratchet's scolding, and accepted her confinement to base until her injuries were healed. She then went on to fulfill Optimus' request, and recounted everything she could about Knockout's imprisonment. Jack and Miko were specifically prohibited from the retelling, brought home by Agent Fowler when he left the base. But Arcee supposed Bumblebee made up for the amount of questions their charges would've asked, as the yellow scout was horrified by every detail she spared. Bulkhead was at least helpful in providing their side of the mission, to which she listened with an increasing hatred for MECH.

Arcee was exhausted by the time she eventually ended her evening, having returned to her quarters after a relaxing trip to the washracks to clean all the energon and grime off her chassis. She just wanted to lay in berth and recharge for a solid cycle (though part of that was probably her concussion talking).

But as she lay her helm down and stared at the dark ceiling, her thoughts made their way back to Knockout.

Was Breakdown able to repair him? Was Knockout ranting about his paint job, or was he numb and quiet like when she rescued him? Was he even awake, or had he fallen unconscious from the energon loss? Did he get a patch for his missing optic, or were they able to get him a replacement?

She hated not knowing.

But perhaps guessing was even worse.

The only thing she could do was wait for the medic to recover, and see how he rebounded the next time they met. If nothing else, Arcee knew Knockout wouldn't be alone in his recovery: he had his partner by his side...