Chapter Text
Energon, Coolant…and Lubricant
Chapter 1: At First Sight: Breakdown
“Mechs stop showing off”, the large blue and orange wrecker called to his team mate. “Your recklessness is going to get us off lined before we even get a real shot at the Autobots.” Breakdown could feel the anger rise up in him at the way his teammates were handling the whole situation. Sure it could have gone better but they were alive to get revenge and end the war before it got started. That was what he told himself a vorn ago and yet it continued. “Let the anger drive you” Motormaster reminded the rather young team. He just hoped it wouldn’t drive them to stupidly turning on each other. Traitors were already showing up in the Decepticon ranks. Wildrider was throwing boulders around with little care and racing between them. “This was not what comes to mind when I hear the phrase wreckers call for clean up. We aren’t supposed to be cleaning up rocks from the battle ground.”
“Focus Mechs, our job is to clear this out and set up cover for ambush. I want it done quickly. Intel reports are that they are on the move” The bellowing voice of their leader rang out.
“Sooner than we think,” Deadend reported, “they are coming already. ETA eleven breems and we seem to be out numbered.” He added “Even though we already have Tarn and reinforcements should be here.
“Clearly they are not so let’s be ready to see to it that they need clean up. We don’t need the backup. Autobot energon will cover this ground today!”
Construction of the barricade and preparation for the wreckers moved quickly after that.
The “ambush’ was a disappointment to the Decepticon wrecker crew as the Autobot army that intel reported was coming was a handful of new Autobots escorting neutrals to what they thought would be a safe place. They made sure the Autobots joined the Allspark along with a few of the neutrals who refused to join the Decepticons. Breakdown escorted the new recruits to training.
He was returning from the uneventful and boring task when he picked up Autobot signals closing in on their makeshift camp. He commed Motormaster.
“Yes, Breakdown we are more than aware of them” he could hear blaster fire getting closer. “We are already engaging them and there are far more this time, get your aft back here and stay alert. Motormaster out”
He pulled off the main road into alley ways to cover and follow an old short cut he knew about as a sparkling. There was cover in the old condemned and abandoned buildings. He was sure he could stay undercover and take out a few along the way. He was almost back to base when an Autobot noticed him hiding. A wrecker he guessed from what he could see.
“I know you’re in there Decepticreep and it is just you. No one shields that well. Come on out and fight me servo to servo. That is if ya aint cyber chicken.
‘Who does the young both think he is?’ Breakdown thought to himself. “Hardly little Autobot punk. What makes you think you are ready for war? Go back home to your carrier!” Breakdown answered transforming.
It wasn’t what Breakdown was expecting. The small yellow bot was as fast as he was arrogant and flipped behind him as Breakdown transformed.
“Yep I knew ya were back there. You are big but you are slow. In more ways than one.” He taunted.
Breakdown turned back and grabbed at the bot. Breakdown missed but threw off the bots aim as he was firing and instead of hitting him he struck the rafter of the building above him. It fell and hit him in the shoulder cutting the armor and several wires below it as he jumped one clipped his hip inflicting the same damage. “Scrap!” he swore taking pot shots at the Autobot who had transformed and raced off behind the building.
“I’m still here. He taunted. Come catch me if you can!” He drove off in a streak of yellow.
Breakdown attempted to transform and follow the brat but debris from the building was stuck in the joints. He was able to pull the one out of his arm but the one in his side was wedged in tight. It hurt more than he would care to admit. He was almost clear of the now collapsing building when a large piece of roofing fell hitting him square in the chest plates.
He commed base and informed them of the situation. He would be slower coming back. He no longer heard sounds of battle at base and it was confirmed they had won without and without Decepticon causalities. Well without all but one stupid injury, his. “Scrap him to the Pit” Breakdown swore again as threw the shard off him with his good arm. He walked back to base through the shadows after he determined there were no others. Transforming would be difficult at best. He knew they had no medic currently serving with them so it would be a long few days until his systems could repair this. He doubted it would heal correctly without intervention. He made it back to base about two breems later.
“Mech, what happened to you?”
“Stupid Autobot shot a building down on me.” He answered trying to hide the ache in his back plates.
“Let me see” the leader said and reached up to pull the shared out. It moved some and brought with it a gush of energon. “Mech, I hate to break the news but that doesn’t look good. We need to find a medic, the soon the better. “
“Affermative, I refuse to join the Allspark before getting revenge on that punk that did this. He got a lucky shot.”
“Can you transform? Rolling back to headquarters would be much faster than walking, especially the way you are doing it.”
He made another attempt. “Negative. Even without the chassis issue my hip seems to have taken damage along the transformation seam.” He grunted and kept walking leaving a small trail of energon behind.
They got a kilometer and noticed a shinny bot working on his finish.
“Hey pretty mech!” Motormaster bellowed.
The red mech turned slowly and had the look of one who had been disturbed from the most important thing in the universe.
“Hey pretty mech, are you a medic or not? I need you over here now!”
“Ah. fighting in the rings again, were you?” He asked in a condescending tone.
“Absolutely not!” Breakdown answered anger in his spark. Who did the arrogant little medic think he was speaking to a wrecker in such a tone? “Where have you been? The start of the war ended that nonsense. Bots do get hurt in honest ways, doctor! Ouch!” He fought the pain now shooting down his spinal struts. “Can you make the repairs or not?”
“No problem. It looks far worse than it actually is. It is fortunate you have such thick armor. This may sting. I have no pain killers on me at the moment. You may want to disable your pain receptors. Designation is Knockout, by the way.”
“Breakdown.” He replied. “And that won’t be necessary.”
The doctor pulled back the damaged armor and began saudering the damaged lines. “Have it your way.” He finished quickly. “Anything else I can do for you?” He scanned him more deeply. “You took a splinter to the transformation seam in your leg and it clipped a nerve in the process.”
Breakdown shrugged it off and was about to leave when his leader responded. “Fix it. We don’t have time for anything less than perfection. “
Knockout made the quick but precise repair and got his buffer.
“You can put that away. I am no femmebot. Wreckers do not need to be shiny”
“No one said you were. However, I am known for my body work and I will not have any patient of mine looking slagged.”
Breakdown compromised with the one repair and allowed him to buff out the scar. “Thanks” He whispered just loud enough for the doctor to hear. “You might want to keep that handy though for yourself, with the war escalating you never know.”
“You can make it up later.” He said laughing. And he somehow knew he would get the chance.
Knockout
Knockout finished his work and cleaning up his tools. He was also contemplating his next move. The war was weighing on him and the fact that it seemed to go on without end. Both sides promised that they would end it quickly and it wasn’t happening. He was nervous that soon they would fight themselves into extinction. He hoped he could end that. That was part of the reason he was a medic. The other was so that he could have a chance to feel that he really wasn’t part of the caste system that initially brought on the war in the first place. He met all types of mechs and found all sorts of waxes and polishes. He was able to keep up appearances.
Today Knockout had been working in the Decepticon camps. Maybe tomorrow he would find the Autobots, or perhaps he would stick around with the Cons for a few more days. He had yet to decide. Knockout hated seeing perfectly good, completely functioning things and bots turned to scrap. He especially hated the fact that he could easily become one of those bots, or worse have his finish scratched up beyond repair. That was why he decided to remain neutral and serve both sides as a medic. It gave him the perfect excuse to stay off the front lines, besides he knew his limitations. If he couldn’t run he would have problems.
The job of medic was good for him. It was busy and satisfied the curiosity he had from the time he was a sparkling. He was good at taking things apart and rebuilding them. The only thing he found he really lacked was compassion. He did what he was supposed to and followed the book for pain management but that was really it. He tried to keep himself detached after the war began and people he had compassion on died. He found that his new philosophy. He learned to detach himself from pain and remind himself above all he was a scientist.
It was a philosophy that worked far better with the Decepticons than Autobots. The Decepticons, for example, had no problem cannibalizing the dead for spare parts especially in triage facilities on the battlefield. He had concerns in doing it in the hospitals, before many of them fell, but on the battlefield it was all survival. The Autobots waited for those who were hurt beyond repair to die before using the parts insisting on making them comfortable in the last minutes. The cons, however, had a different idea of mercy. They ended the pain quickly and used uninjured parts for those who had a chance of living, so they could fight again. He couldn’t let his processor dwell on that reality. He had to make a living after all. It usually meant more work so more credits in the end for him.
“Knockout, What are you doing? Get back in here I need you!”
“I’m coming Scalpel!” He answered the old surgeon in charge of this particular unit. He handed him the charts he was working on.
“I know you were supposed to be off three breems ago but we have incoming. Supposedly there were a couple of small skirmishes outside Praxus. I guess Megatron decided to stick his pede in the quicksilver before jumping in full force. When the city falls there will be plenty of work. Let’s take care of these injuries and set up for more. I think drones would have been a better option than actual scouts but what do I know? I’m a surgeon not a warrior.”
“Mmmhmm” Knockout responded before the first wave came in. Knockout quickly set up his triage quickly patched up the mesh wounds. There were enough of those alone he would have made a fortune in the private sector. Many seemed as obsessed about looks as he did. “I can’t buff it now; clearly there are ones who will offline soon. Buff yourself!” He told them sending them away. He took the code yellow sending the reds to Scalpel.
“Take care of that one for me, Knockout. He is level 4, code black; I need a pump over here.” Scalpel called out.
Knockout saw the unconscious mech whose helm was almost completely smashed. “How is he still venting?” Knockout asked himself scanning seeing only a faint spark signature. “Impossible” he thought. He transformed his arm into his saw and was about to end this one’s life. He hesitated and turned off his pain receptors, just in case.
“Hurry Knockout before the energon decays. I need those parts.”
Knockout did as he was told and for some reason this time he was almost troubled by it. “Detach yourself, Knockout” he silently reminded himself. He’s offline already. He finished up in a blur and noticed the sun was already beginning to set. He was going to end the day with Decepticon ‘mercy’ on his spark, and he decided that the next day he would spend in the Autobot camps. Their incredible over the top soft sparks would help him regain his pull on reality. “Yes,” He thought,” working both sides keeps me rich, and sane.”
He cleaned the energon off his arms and hands and was about to wax his arms when a booming voice called, “hey pretty mech!” Knockout knew they were addressing him when he saw another large mech leaning into him and leaving a trail of energon behind. “Great, not again! Primus, why do you hate me? Can I have at least a klick between ‘customers?” At least this one was walking. At least Primus didn’t hate him completely.
“Hey pretty mech, are you a medic or not? I, we need you over here, now!”
Knockout casually approached them. It was an ugly wound but it would be an easy repair. He scanned the mech. Energon reserves at 73% He wouldn’t bleed out anytime soon. “What happened to you? Been in the arena again?” Knockout was tired and suddenly snarky.
“No, haven’t you heard? Before the war there was a new champion who was unstoppable, now real fighting has replaced the sport. Mechs do get hurt in honest ways doctor!”
“I suppose so.” He answered attempting to concentrate
“Can you fix it or not?” The larger mech asked
“Of course. It isn’t as bad as it looks. Fortunately for you your armor is so thick and it didn’t pierce your spark chamber. You may want to disable your pain receptors though”. He said addressing his patient now.” It may burn a bit and I have no pain killers on me. Designation is Knockout by the way.”
“Breakdown,” He answered, “and that won’t be necessary.”
Knockout shook his helm the big ones were gluttons for pain in an attempt to prove themselves or something. He opened the undamaged chest plate so he could get a better look at the entry point of the debris. He sealed the torn wires and small energon veins around the wound and pulled out the metal. He quickly sealed of the main vein as another gush of energon ran down his arms. “You will want to refuel as soon as you leave but you’ll recover. It is like I said before not as bad as it looks, a glorified splinter” Knockout closed the chest plate and got some put metal over the wound to serve as a bandage until his self repair systems could fix the minor injuries. “ Is there anything else? You seem to have had recent nervous damage to your hip as you have been limping. It might affect your ability to transform properly.”
“I am okay” Breakdown answered and was about to attempt to transform.
“Fix it!” the larger mech all but ordered. “My soldiers will be in perfect order.”
Knockout did the minor repairs and pulled out the buffer that he had recently used on himself.
“You can put that away. I am not fembot! I don’t mind scars.”
“Understood, but I have a reputation for body work. What would others think if you looked slagged? I don’t do messy work.”
“What would they think of a shiny wrecker?” Knockout glared at him. “Fine just the one if you must.”
Knockout’s optics shown a shade brighter. “Sure thing Breakdown.”
“Thanks” the large mech whispered.
“You can make it up to me at some point.” Knockout commed back. He watched them roll off. The encounter intrigued him. He was definitely in a better mood having actually got to make a repair but it wasn’t just because he was ending the day on a save. There was something about that mech that made his sparks rhythm change. He was also interested in the apparently relationship between the bot and his commander, if that was the right word. They usually didn’t care that much about their soldiers. He had some research left to do. He decided to stay with the cons a little bit longer after all.