Chapter Text
“Redo the test, Knock Out.”
The red medic glanced at his deceptively calm leader, feeling wary. “My Lord, I’ve already done it five times -- at your insistence, I may add. The results haven’t varied the slightest. They clearly show…” he started to say, only to gulp and take a step back as Megatron’s intense gaze focused on him. “Right away, Lord Megatron,” the medic scrambled.
Sure, it might have looked cowardly, but he wasn’t an idiot, thank you very much. The news had rattled Megatron, and he knew better than to get on the Warlord’s nerves when he was in that kind of mood; getting shot might get him killed, and it would definitely mess with his finish. Honestly, the news had rattled him too, though he dared anyone to mock him.
Knock Out glanced at the prone form lying strapped down to the medical berth, unconscious. They had captured the Autobot to get to the last Omega Key, but the mech was turning out to be much more than a lead or the owner of said Key. Oh yes, so much more…
“Well, Knock Out?”
The medic almost jumped, silently cursing himself for getting distracted -- and cursing Megatron for startling him like that. With slow, deliberate gestures in order to let the Warlord see what he was doing and assure him there was no foul play, no trick, and that whatever results Knock Out’s scans showed were the genuine deal.
Just like the five previous times.
Carefully, he hooked his scanner to one of the unconscious Autobot’s medical port, the screen turned toward the looming Lord Megatron, and entered the right order to start scanning their prisoner’s systems. Funny. The first time he had started the scan, it was only to make sure the Autobot carried no virus in case he needed to dig into his systems for an interrogation. Then the unexpected results had showed up, linking the Autobot’s just downloaded datas to one precise file in the medbay’s computers, and Knock Out’s day had become much more stressful.
Data started to scrolls, from size, weight and upgrades status to Spark’s frequency. That was that last part which had left them all stumped. And, once again, the scan beeped as it linked and opened another file to the side for comparison. Knock Out didn’t smile; there was no point in doing so, since he already knew the results would be the same, again.
He just hoped Lord Megatron stopped being stubborn as a pig’o-tron now, because redoing the same thing again and again was getting tiresome. Not to mention, he still needed to find exactly where that Key was hidden!
The Key, however, seemed to have totally slipped Lord Megatron’s mind as he stared again, face blank.
Knock Out coughed. “My Lord? Are you satisfied with the results yet?” he asked carefully.
“No, I’m not,” the larger mech said blandly, and Knock Out winced, preparing to either dodge or redo his scan yet again. “However, I suppose it doesn’t matter.” His red gaze fell on the unconscious Autobot whose name they still ignored. He looked at him up and down, face unreadable until it broke into a scowl. “Damn you, Orion!” he suddenly bellowed, making a fist and hitting one of Knock Out’s machines, prompting the medic to yelp as he hurried over the inspect the damages.
“Lord Megatron, not my equipment! I need it!”
The Warlord paid him no mind. He leaned forward to get a better look at the strapped down Autobot, studying him before his shoulders sagged. “I see what I must do… Soundwave!”
The silent Communication Officer took a step forward from the corner of the medbay he had been laying in wait in. “Make the Vehicons prepare a room on deck 3; there is no shortage of abandoned officer quarters they can use. Reinforced doors, no communication systems, no terminal,” he added in a clipped tone. “Go supervise the beginning of the operations, and come back here as soon as you can.”
The silent mech nodded and saluted, turning on his heels and getting out as silently as he had arrived and stood until then.
“Knock Out!” The medic saluted. “Prepare your tools for surgery!”
The medic blinked. “What kind of surgery, my Lord?”
“Extraction,” Megatron said succinctly, never leaving the Autobot’s face out of his sight. Slowly, he raised a hand and reached out for him, his clawed digits lightly brushing against one cheek. Despite his unconscious state, the Autobot made a soft sound -- a strange mix of pain and relief. Megatron’s claws withdrew, though he continued to hover, even as Knock Out drew a tray next to the berth. Only then did he take a step back, optics still focused on the prone form. “Start with his T-Cog. Then you might have to prepare for amputation.”
“My Lord?” Knock Out asked, already taking out a laser scalpel.
“It’ll depends on our… ‘guest’ disposition upon waking up,” the Warlord merely stated. Knock Out watched him briefly before shrugging.
“As you wish, Lord Megatron.”
“Once you’re done, medic, wake him up.” The Warlord looked pensive for a moment before his face broke into a thin, joyless smile. “After all, it’s high time I properly welcome my Creation onboard.”