Part 15: A Matter of Trust
“Japan… Japan…” Perceptor muttered, as he paced back and forth in front of a holographic map of the world with what looked to be a Cybertronian-Sized pointer. “Why Japan? Why not Texas, North Dakota or somewhere else closer to the base of Decepticon operations? Petroleum in particular is much better for conducting energy to Energon transformation than nuclear fuel rods anyways. They could have hit anywhere so why Japan in particular?”
“Don’t you think maybe you’re overthinking this a tad?” Road Rage asked, shrugging her shoulders. “I mean, it could just be random right? Just hit somewhere with a lot of energy. Hell, they could have hit Iran or Canada if they wanted. With access to a groundbridge, they could go anywhere in the world. Doesn’t need to be rhyme or reason for this sort of thing.”
Perceptor sighed. “Yes, perhaps you’re quite right. Maybe I need a power-down, been wracking my brain for days, a quick recharge would do me some good I suppose. Let someone else do the thinking for a change. Between this, and working as a medic for you and everyone else…”
Road Rage patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Yeah, I understand. Nobody would blame you if you just curled up in your berth for a recharge for a few cycles. Relax, everything will sort itself out, a cure for my… condition will arise sooner or later. Just have to be optimistic about this sort of thing.”
Suddenly, the commlinks on both of the Autobot’s wrists began flashing.
“Huh, curious…” Perceptor mused, raising an eyebrow. “Old Autobot High-Frequency embedded message, nobody’s used this type of thing since the War.”
“Old war vet on Earth, just wanting to strike up a chat, and saying: “How’s it been?” Seems unlikely.” Road Rage remarked, in a deadpan tone.
“Very funny,” Perceptor replied. “Might as well play it.”
Before he could reach for the play button as it were, Road Rage halted him.
“Wait, we should play this smart. More than likely, it’s a Decepticon, one of Onslaught’s group. Only war vets aside from them are in this base, as far as we know.”
“Agreed, I’ll contact Prowl and have him and Swerve join me with this impromptu meeting. If by chance someone’s contacting us via this old way of communication, they wouldn’t want to meet in public, meaning this is most likely a trap. Best to have an extra blaster or two on hand. Just in case.” Perceptor noted.
“And yet, if you go with Prowl and Swerve,” Road Rage pointed out. “We’d be sending over half our forces to this meeting site, including our sole medic.”
Perceptor laid a hand on her shoulder and smirked. “I was a War vet as well, I know how to handle myself in combat. And besides, only medic? Yeah, I’ve been training you how to patch up a bot, so I’m not worried.” he stated. With that, he pressed play.
“I’m turning myself in.” came Knock Out’s distinctive voice, catching both Perceptor and Road Rage off guard, both sets of optics blinking in surprise.
“...Well, wasn’t expecting that.” Road Rage remarked. “But, only one thing for it I suppose. Might as well hear him out, presuming, of course, he doesn’t rip our sparks out.”
“And that’s why…” Perceptor replied, holding up a long barreled rifle-like device that sparked with electricity at the end. “It never hurts to come prepared.”
So, it was with great caution that Perceptor opened up a Groundbridge to Knock Out’s location, a deep forest outside Canterlot City limits and with Swerve and Prowl in tow, transformed into their respective vehicle modes and ventured forth. Now, Perceptor had recently gained himself a new vehicle mode, a half-track army vehicle figuring if he was going to be out in the field more, he’d need something a bit quicker and perhaps more rugged than his old microscope mode. Wasn’t really as subtle, but more practical and allowed him to mount weapons such as his newly crafted stun-rifle atop his vehicle mode’s roof.
“Wait wait wait,” Knock Out said, holding his hands up in a surrendering motion. “As much as I can feel the love for me practically radiating off you guys, is there really a need for such heavy artillery?” he drawled out, looking at the stun-rifle nervously.
“Oh, this?” Swerve asked, transforming to Robot mode and gesturing to the stun-rifle which he’d soon grabbed. “The Electrobooster? Won’t hurt… much. Probably just put you in agonizing pain, something a trifle below excruciating pain.” he said with a small smirk.
Knock Out let out a small squeak at this, making a noise that sounded suspiciously like “Spare my finish!”
“He’s kidding,” Perceptor said, transforming back to bot mode. “Which is exactly why we’re not letting him use it.” he continued, in a more firm tone, taking the weapon away from Swerve.
“We’re not going to harm you,” Prowl reassured, audibly groaning out in pain as parts shifted and moved as he turned into Robot mode. “Not unless you warrant us doing so. Hopefully, it won’t have to come to that.”
“Speaking of harm,” Knock Out remarked. “Bet that hurts, transforming. Like a fire burning inside you. Not like a spark, warm and comforting like starlight, but like a sheer inferno, a blazing forest if you will excuse me getting poetic.”
“It tingles.” Prowl remarked.
“Tingles?” Knock Out asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically. “I really don’t think that’s the word I’d use when you’ve been hit by one of Flamewar’s Virus Arrows. More like, agh, excruciating pain that I’m going to die from. Take a Medic’s word on that. Believe me, you’d be better off in the long run.”
“Can we just get to the point?” Prowl asked, ignoring him. “Why exactly, are you so keen on offering yourself up to us?”
“Well, not like I have much choice in the matter, y’know. Better, in the long run, I just let myself get captured, then probably killed in mid-battle and sent to the great big scrapheap in the sky.”
“You do realize you’d probably be put in stasis lock for the rest of your life, after what you pulled right?” Prowl asked.
“Better than being dead!” Knock Out refuted. “Besides, did a bit of reading, and yes I admit I’ve been watching White Collar when this crossed my mind -Dunno if you ever saw that show, really riveting- but can’t you lot put on one of those newfangled tracking bracelets while I work off my crimes?”
“Well…” Prowl trailed off. “It has been considered for a few of you, the ones who did less horrendous crimes. Pretty sure mass murder counts as horrendous though.”
“...Just a thought, and I was framed for that anyways,” Knock Out continued, gaining a few disbelieving snorts in the process. “Besides, you need me,” he said, playing his last card. This conversation wasn’t going the way he’d imagined it in his head. “That virus of Road Rage’s? One that’s now slowly making its way through your system as well,” he continued, looking directly at Prowl, and both Swerve and Perceptor stared at the bot in shock not privy to this little detail. “I know exactly where it came from, who made it.”
It didn’t take long for Prowl to make up his mind.
“Fine then, you’re coming with us,” he said, cuffing the Decepticon, before a loud metallic shriek filled the air, and everyone looked up to see a massive griffon, orange cyberglyphics glowing in the moonlight standing atop a tall cliffside.
“Oh, slag…” Knock Out squeaked out. “Maybe have forgot to mention this, but Onslaught likes to keep tabs on his boys when they’ve been gone too long. Meet Darksteel, his personal hunter. My advice. Run.”
Advice that everyone was all too happy to heed when they saw Darksteel’s throat glowing orange, before the entire area was covered in a wall of flame that the foursome just narrowly escaped…
It took several odd minutes for Hound to comprehend what he was seeing. A trio of Autobots, his commander amongst thing, leading Knock Out into their base via Groundbridge. It took several more minutes for Hound’s voicebox to finally begin functioning once more.
And even then, he couldn’t really manage anything that could be considered coherent speech of any sort.
“I… Er… Um…” Hound stuttered out. Swerve chuckled, as he idly wondered if he could just walk up to Hound in his current state and with one light shove, tip him over. He thought the better of it, the ensuing lecture from Prowl wasn’t worth it.
“...Well, I’ll be damned,” Road Rage murmured to herself, in a disbelieving tone almost too soft to be heard. “He was actually sincere about it.”
“What, you disbelieved moi?” Knock Out asked, still rather annoyed he was in cuffs. “I mean, does this look like a face who’d lie to you?”
“...Gee, lemme think about that.” Road Rage deadpanned.
“Trust me, the jury’s still quite out on whether he really is telling the truth, or just wants to lead the ‘Cons to our base,” Prowl confirmed, shoving the nervous Decepticon forwards.
“See, this is why I was reluctant to come to you guys in the first place!” Knock Out exclaimed, his voice coming out as a sputter. “Sensing a real lack of trust you guys have around here!”
“For good reason.” Road Rage replied, narrowing her eyes at the known murderer. “Red Alert, a friend of mine, name sound familiar? It should. Friendliest Spark this side of Cybertron, and you murdered him! My fiance!”
Knock Out’s optics widened in shock. That… he hadn’t known about his old friend. He had known he was about to undergo the bonding ceremony, (And how could he not, as the medic talked about it to no end) but not who he was being bonded to.
Maccadam’s Old Oil House: Cybertron:
“Hey-ho! Three cheers for Red Alert!” a call went out amongst the bar, louder and rowdier than usual. And that was saying something. “For that paranoid old glitch-spark finally getting himself hitched!” a red Autobot, with the symbol for the Cybertronian Fire Squadron shouted, raising his mug full of hot oil skywards.
“One ‘ell of a bachelor party, gotta say,” Red Alert said, the mostly white and red Cybertronian commented. “Really guys, this isn’t all necessary though. Seriously, it’s not.”
“Only the best for my friend,” Knock Out said, slapping his fellow medic on the back. “And besides, what do you mean it’s not necessary?” he asked, using air quotes. “I’m sorry, but Inferno?” he asked, turning to the Fire Squad bot. “Tell my friend here that is absolutely indeed necessary!”
“Quite right,” Inferno agreed. “I mean, you’ve been saving lives for… Oh, Primus knows how long so you deserve one Hell of a bachelor party I say! Plus, I got a bet on with Falcia that I can beat her Hen Night, and I do not intend to lose!”
“Shame Pharma couldn’t make it,” Nacelle sighed sadly, the Seeker’s wings slumping in disappointment. “He would have loved this kind of thing… probably.”
“Yeah, bot’s always on call, never takes breaks,” Inferno sighed. “What’s that old saying? All work and no play…?”
“Now tell us man,” Knock Out asked. “You’ve been keeping mum on this bot you intend to bond with for weeks, so you have got to tell us who she is now!”
“Sorry, you’ll just have to wait for the wedding day,” Red Alert smirked.
“...I can’t see for the life of me why you passed up that Chief of Security job at Polyhex,” Inferno muttered, rubbing his forehead in frustration. “You’d do such a good job at keeping secrets.”
“Told you why before, and I’ll tell you again,” Red Alert remarked. “Would have driven me mad, probably made me paranoid that everyone was out to get me. I mean, remember Nitro ‘Mad-Optic’ Zeus? Good name for a bot, but the man was as paranoid as a Petrorabbit! Seriously, he thought Decepticons were hiding around every corner before he finally retired. And I think he still does!”
That gained a few chuckles, and Inferno responded with a: “Point.”
“Well,” Nacelle remarked. “I’m just glad that we’re all here to celebrate this momentous occasion! The day before Red Alert finally loses his freedom forever! Kept on a leash and chain!”
“...Funny, I thought you liked that.” Inferno smirked.
“S-Shaddup!” Nacelle stammered out, as everyone else laughed.
Knock Out smiled wistfully. Ah, those were the days, right before everything went to the slaggin’ Pit. Before he had the stupid idea of facing Pharma alone and ending up on the run and getting ganged up with Onslaught’s bunch. Sniffling softly to himself as he wondered what Red Alert had to be thinking of him now, he regained his composure before anyone could notice.
“Anyways, just to be safe because we now have a known criminal in our base,” Road Rage continued, eyeing Knock Out warily. “Where’s the kids? Really not a fan of them coming here at the moment.”
“Most of ‘em, in bed I’d suspect at this hour,” Perceptor answered for her. “I mean, they’ve got classes in the morning… I think. Lost track of the days. Don’t know if it’s a weekend as they call it or not. Either way, won’t be showing up soon.”
“You said most, that implies…” Road Rage trailed off.
“Yeah, I did get some distressing news,” Hound spoke up, his voice box finally choosing that moment to completely repair itself. “Apparently, Ms. Sunny Flare was coming home from her mother’s, and her mom’s car got hit dead-on by this flashy sports car.”
“W-What?” Road Rage stammered out. “She’s alright, isn’t she? Tell me she’s alright!” she exclaimed, grabbing Hound by the torso plating.
“Yes, Sunny’s fine,” Hound reassured. “Her mother… sadly she’s in critical condition. In surgery right now, from what Feral reports. He and Swordbreaker are keeping an eye on things, case the Cons get any ideas and try to attack one of our charges’ loved ones.”
“Thank Solus…” Road Rage replied, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Knock Out, he felt more than a pang of guilt. He caused this, and he knew it. If Cinch was lucky to survive, she’d probably be paralyzed for life at best. “By the Allspark…” he muttered. “If only I’d…”
“If only you’d what?” Road Rage growled, turning on him with a dangerous edge in her voice as she realized. “You caused this, didn’t you? Should have known, flashy sports car? Who else could it have been then but a Stunticon!”
“Ex-Stunticon,” Knock Out clarified, knowing that really wasn’t helping his case. “And for the record, if it wasn’t for me, Cinch might not have even made it to causality!”
“Yeah, like I’m supposed to believe that!” Road Rage snarled, this close to shoving a fist through Knock Out’s spark casing. “Ex-Stunticon, what the slaggin’ Pit is that supposed to mean!?!”
“Means I was unceremoniously drafted into Shockwave’s combiner program, what do you think?” Knock Out yelled back. “Experimented on, had my parts turned inside out just so I could form a part of some mad gestalt called Menasor! Do you know what that feels like? DO YOU?” he roared.
“...” was Road Rage’s only response.
“Yeah, I thought not.” Knock Out grumbled. “So don’t you go lecturing me about things you don’t understand!”
“Simmer down, the both of you,” Fowler’s voice said, as twin doors hissed open and the somewhat portly African-American stepped inside. “Whatever else you may think of Knock Out, he’s not lying about saving my ex-wife’s life. That much, at least, is true.”
“So, if that’s true… What else about him is?” Perceptor pondered to himself. “Could he really be telling the truth about being framed?”
“Wait, so you weren’t lying about that?” Road Rage asked in shock.
“Um, no. Look, I may be scum, that much is true as well as I did throw myself in with Onslaught, but I’m nowhere near the level of scum it would take to leave an innocent woman to die via a car accident I caused just because I wasn’t keeping my optics to the road!” Knock Out said in reply, as Prowl uncuffed him before putting a tracking bracelet on Knock Out’s ankle.
“Now, may look garish, but it won’t hinder your transformation any. All it allows us to do is keep an optic on you, and your whereabouts. Can’t go within two miles of whoever holds the tracker, and to help you two get along better…” Prowl trailed off, looking directly at Road Rage.
Needless to say, neither was happy with this arrangement.
“OH SLAG NO!”
“YOU WANT TO PUT ME WITH HER!?!”
Prowl smirked. “Only logical choice, in my mind. If Road Rage shoots you, she’ll face charges of killing a prisoner in custody,” he continued, and Road Rage swore to herself. Prowl, he’d thought that one out good, the magnificent little bastard. “Besides, if my theory is correct, whatever Flamewar got me with, it's probably the same thing that’s currently coursing through Road Rage’s body. It just hasn’t built up to the same level as the virus within her. If you can manage to help Road Rage, you can help me.” the commander continued.
“Er yeah… slight problem with that. You, I might be able to help now, but Road Rage…?” Knock Out trailed off, and sucked in a breath. “Like you said, the virus is further along. Only one who would have the cure for the stage it’s in now? Flamewar herself.”
“Well, then we just have to capture her, and pry it from her fingers,” Fowler commented. “Simple as that. I’d imagine Onslaught would want his medic back, so we do an exchange. Flamewar’s cure, for Knock Out.”
“No,” Prowl refuted. “I’d rather not have anyone get caught up in the possible ensuing crossfire, especially the one who might hold the cure to saving us both,” he stated, putting an end to the matter.
“Then how else are we supposed to get ahold of Flamewar?” Road Rage argued. “I mean, we can’t just chance her coming out on the ‘Cons next fuel raid and hope we get lucky!”
“Simple, we offer her a prize she can’t resist. Fowler’s idea, while flawed does have some merit. Hound, if you will?”
The scout nodded and used his pistol to create a projection of Knock Out, accurate to the very last detail.
“We fake an exchange…” Fowler smirked. “I like it.”
Knock Out walked up to his copy, and trailed a finger down it’s faceplates. “Hmm, doesn’t capture every aspect of my… elegance but I suppose it’ll do,” he said, a finger on his chin and in a pose resembling that of an artist observing his work. “So, forgery and identity theft? Didn’t know a cop was willing to break the law just to save one Con, or more accurately his own skin.”
Prowl let out a small growl. “Get him out of here.”
A few days passed, and the Shadowbolts and Trixie remained unaware there was now a Decepticon in the metaphorical King Arthur’s court as it were. Wouldn’t stay that way, of course.
Come the end of Monday’s school hours, and the Shadowbolts who had recently transferred over to Canterlot High a week or so back to get closer to their two newest friends in Trixie and Twilight were greeted to an unexpected sight.
“...Please tell me I’m seeing things,” Sugarcoat said, as both she and Twilight took off their glasses and rubbed them clean as they gazed upon a very familiar crimson One-77 in the school’s parking lot. But when they put them back on… “Nope, still there.”
“...Has to be a nightmare, has to be…” Trixie mumbled to herself as both Sour Sweet and Lemon opened and closed their mouths wordlessly, doing remarkable impressions of fish.
“K-Knock Out?” Sunny asked nervously, as she walked up to the car. “That you?”
“Girl, what are you doing?” Sour Sweet asked, as she grabbed Sunny by the arm. “You got a death wish or something?” she exclaimed, going into ‘Sour’ mode as everyone called it.
“Call it a matter of trust,” Sunny replied, wrenching herself free from her friend’s grip. “Remember a few days back, when I said this Cybertronian helped get my mom to the hospital?”
“...Right, you didn’t say who did you?” Lemon mumbled to herself. “You’re telling us it was Knock Out?”
“Well, we can’t exactly judge Knock Out by branding, now can we?” Sugarcoat asked. “We’ve not exactly seen much of him, only heard about him through Road Rage’s stories. Or story, to be more accurate.”
“Where he tried to KILL her!” Trixie piped up.
“After she attacked him, it was self-defense.” Sugarcoat pointed out, shutting Trixie up for the moment.
“Glad to see one of you has some actual intelligence aside from Fowler’s daughter,” Knock Out finally spoke, his headlights flashing with every word. None of the Bots trusted him enough yet to install a holographic driver, so he’d just darkened his windows. “But yes, for the time being, I’m your newest chaperone. If not one in chains.”
“And what exactly do you mean by that?” Sour asked.
“Tracking anklet, only allowed to go within two miles of whoever holds the tracker,” Knock Out explained. “Your ‘Bot friends, gave it to Road Rage of all Cybertronians. Not the best choice when I’m out and about though, giving you guys lifts home. So, Prowl’s got it right now, make sure I don’t make a run for it. Not that I would, of course, considering the moment I try your pal Swordbreaker’s been freely allowed to smash in my Spark, the brute. He’s not a cop and just a merc for hire so… loopholes.” Knock Out explained, visibly shuddering.
Not too far away, a familiar Toyota Tundra sat lurking as if it was ready to pounce.
“So, shall we get going?” Knock Out asked, his passenger door opening. Sunny took a deep breath and stepped in.
“I just don’t trust him, not one bit,” Twilight had this to say, as she sat comfortably in Swordbreaker’s passenger seat, Sugarcoat and Trixie behind her. Sour, Lemon and Indigo had opted to be braver, and ride alongside Sunny inside Knock Out. Not like they’d get questioned by the cops anyways, as it happened Indigo had recently passed her driver’s test. “It’s like sticking your head in a lion’s open mouth. You’re going to get it bitten clean off.”
“Okay, normally I’m not the first one to trust someone, and I sure as hell don’t with Knock Out,” Trixie put in. “But maybe, just maybe Sunny and the others are safe. I mean, he saved Cinch’s life, so that has to count for something right?”
“I suppose…” Twilight whispered. “But still, he’s a Decepticon!”
“Not entirely,” Swordbreaker explained, his dashboard lighting up as he spoke in his deep rumbling tone. “At least, not by choice. During the war, he was a neutral medic, never took a side. Healed both Bots and Cons. He only ran to Onslaught, after he was accused of mass murder. Something, I myself have always doubted to be frank. He was only found at the scene of the crime, and he’d never shown any reservations about killing anyone before this happened. In fact, he abhorred it from why my twin Strongarm told me. It took her by surprise, finding him butchering Cybertronians and stealing their T-Cogs. It all was too convenient really, finding him in an area with no security cameras. My sister, has this tendency to jump to conclusions far too often.” he sighed sadly, and one could get the feeling that if he was in Robot Mode he’d be shaking his head in disappointment.
“Really?” Trixie’s mouth dropped in shock. “That does sound like a convincing story that would prove his innocence. Evidence, from the sounds of it, all sounds circumstantial.”
Everyone looked at her.
“What, Trixie’s mom was a cop, don’t judge her!” she exclaimed. “Besides, this could all backfire on you hugely if you keep giving him reasons not to trust you. Take the ankle bracelet off, see what happens. Good chance he won’t run.”
“Good chance he may,” Swordbreaker refuted. “But you do have a point, I’ll talk to Prowl and maybe see if we can extend Knock Out’s leash a little.”
Small victories, Trixie thought to herself. Small victories.
Okay, so I was sorta stuck on this one for a while, how to follow up on the cliffhanger I left y'all on. But, thankfully Fourshadow (Check out his New Generation story, would ya?) and Shadowmane were around to brainstorm ideas, and they gave me a solution.
Now, I liken Knock Out's current situation here to Neal Caffery's in the TV show White Collar. Wanted to go straight, reform and retire from his life of crime, but the FBI kept giving him reasons not to trust them.
Now, comments, thoughts, and critique are always welcome. It pleases a certain sexy Con.
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Knockout's always got the class. But oh boy, him in the base, this gotta be interesting. *pulls up bucket of popcorn*
Also, love the advertisement! (Total narcissism from me, but still, thank you!)
Y'know, as vain as he is, Knock Out has a point, his design was damn handsome. For a robot.
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....I wouldn't show him his figure then. It ruins his design!
tfwiki.net/mediawiki/images2/d/da/PrimeRID-KnockOutdeluxe.jpg
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...I will never forgive Hasbro for ruining perfection on 4 wheels. NEVER!
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But in all seriousness, what'd you think of the chapter itself? Any obvious problems that stick out?
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I can't think of anything off the top of my head, being honest. I think you did a good job with the chapter.
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Same.
Funny how I've been re-listening to Billy Joel:
Not bad, not bad at all. Yes they have reasons not to trust him but if he proves trustworthy give the guy some freedom. Hopefully Optimus finds out and if he proves he has turned over a new leaf he waves the sentence.
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And that one was completely unintentional.
This was good reading. I enjoy seeing more on what's going on with Knock Out, and I look forward to seeing where this goes next!
I admit, I'm a teeny bit disappointed about the Shadowbolts transferring to CHS. I get it's probably for the sake of convenience but I liked the idea of both CHS and CPA students being involved in this crazy goings-on together. Oh well. By no means a dealbreaker though.