Clink. Clink. Clink.

Knockout watched the doors before him in slight disinterest, drumming his fingers against the counter he leaned against.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

It was boring, just waiting for the remaining Autobots to come to a decision. What were they to do with him?

Though he tried to stop it at first, he couldn't help but allow his mind to wander.

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The small shuttle shook with each gust of wind. The metal frame was strong, but the impacts of burning up on planetary entry were proving to be too much for it to handle. It could have been worse, Knockout supposed. Cybertron's atmosphere was far stronger than whatever backwater planet they had arrived at.

But they were crashing, and that was never good for a ship.

Alarms were blaring now, searing into the doctor's audios. The emergency lights as his only light source, Knockout could just barely make out the boxy silhouette of his ally between the flashes of red.

"Signal the Nemesis!" Knockout yelled in panic, pulling on the small ship's controls with all of his strength.

"The, the what?" A deep voice spouted in exasperation. "Since when do we have a nemesis?"

Knockout rolled his optics heavily. "The ship, the name of the ship we hailed-" Knockout was thrown backwards after yet another large shake of the escape pod, losing his grip on the controls and harshly slamming into the wall behind him.

"Ouch, that can't have felt good"

"Shut up."

The large mech to Knockouts left quickly jumped to the front of the ship, grabbing the controls and pulling on them with strikingly more success than the cherry medic had moments before.

"Fine, I'll do it myself," Knockout mumbled under his breath, shakily stumbling over to the single monitor. The hull of the ship was crumbling like paper. With each step Knockout worried he would tear right through the bottom and be sucked out into the open air below. Throwing himself on to the computer panel, the medic scrambled to contact the ship that had guided them to this wretched planet in the first place. "Knockout to Nemesis, requesting assistance." It briefly occurred to him that his partner's screaming combined with the sounds of the pod actively tearing itself apart might have made him difficult to make out through the transmitter. "Mayday Mayday! We're going down!"

"Ground floor's approaching fast," the large mech yelled over the chaos, "can you get through to them any faster? We're going to need a better doctor than you!.. heh, no offence..."

"Save it, Br-"

"Brace yourself!"

Knockout didn't have time to think. Before he even registered what was happening his helm was jostled into his chassis, the sorry excuse for a spaceship folding in on itself like a tin can as it hit the ground.

The escape pod came down at an angle, carving through the earth like a snake in sand.

When the large mech peeled away the only panel that wasn't still scolding hot, Knockout groaned. Hard light flooded the metal tomb in the fashion of fire catching on timber, spilling over the broken casket and cascading Knockout in warm light. Before him, his partner stood before the cherry medic's battered frame, extending a hand towards him.

Shaking, Knockout reached towards him. The blue painted mech, now visible through the dust and grime, didn't wait. He grabbed Knockout's arm confidently, and pulled him up into the warmth. Together, the pair stumbled out into the light.

Knockout looked around bewilderedly, blinking repeatedly at his new environment. The crash had left a large ravine in its wake, walls of mud and rock stretching into a seemingly endless trail of destruction and stretching up into a light blue sky. No stars were visible, as were common with heavy atmospheres, but there was a single large sun.

"It's...organic." Knockout gasped. So this is what an organic planet was like. Interesting.

He kind of hated it.

His peds sunk into the dirt that smeared against his metal, falling into every little crease in his armor and scratching against his protoform. Knockout's disgust must have been obviously plastered across his face-plates, because the blue mech to his side smiled reassuringly at him.

Looking into his partner's eyes, he felt peaceful. The jelly in his legs slowly strengthened to the strong metal it was, and Knockout smiled.

The moment was interrupted however by a rush of energy and a ripple of light. Before the pair, a newly appeared portal swirled and churned in billows of green. A groundbridge.

"Who do you think is on the other side? I heard Decepticon radio chatter about Megatron, of all mechs, being on that ship." Knockout questioned, not quite believing it himself.

"I don't know, but whoever it is, I'm sure everything will be fine." The blue mech paused, sensing his partner's anxiety. "As long as we're together, we will be okay," he reiterated.

"As long as we're together?" Knockout probed, slightly raising his eyebrows.

"As long as we're together."

Breakdown smiled.

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They were arguing in the hallway, the Autobots, that is. The vehicon's were just watching. They were pretending not to, but their constant shudders and shared looks they'd send each other were becoming obvious.

The one set to guard Knockout would slowly turn his helm towards him before turning it back again, as if startled, and then repeat the process.

Knockout turned his own helm to face the nosy vehicon, twisting his body to do so. He watched as the purple mech slowly turned his visor towards him once again. When Knockout could see the serrated red lines on the soldier's face he let out a sharp, low growl.

The Vehicon jumped in fear and quickly returned to standing at attention. Its small frame shivering ever so slightly under Knockout's gaze.

Every now and then the yelling would shake the walls of the Nemesis, the vibrations travelling from the floor and into Knockout's peds.

"...He's a... ...are you insane?..." Honestly, Knockout wasn't sure if hearing snippets of their argument was better or worse than just being in the room with them, at least then he'd know what they wanted to do with him. This waiting was becoming unbearable. "...Optimus-" and then the yelling somehow got even worse, shaking the various tools that lined the medical bay.

What a cruel joke, to keep him locked up in not only his faction's own ship, but the very room he felt the safest in.

Knockout jumped from his spot at the counter as the doors were thrown open, an angry medic storming through, "well we don't know what Optimus would want because he's not here!" Ratchet all but shoved Knockout to the side as he pushed past him, disappearing through the medical bay's second set of doors and into the adjacent hallway.

"Those doors were unlocked?" he asked the vehicon to his side, who shook in what might have been an uncomfortable shrug.

"Why would they be locked?" Bulkhead asked, crossing his arms. It might have been a genuine question, coming from a place of innocence. But he was smirking, so probably not.

Knockout crossed his arms in turn, scowling at the green Wrecker. "I don't know, Bulkhead. Maybe because you threatened to offline me earlier today," he practically spat.

"Night's still young." The large mech spoke lowly, leaning in towards Knockout's face. His vents were low and threatening, pushing air against Knockout's faceplates. It had a certain tang to it, a smell that often emanated from the higher ranking vehicon's who would stumble into the med-bay after a long night of partying.

The cherry medic raised an opticridge at him, "someone found the high-grade cabinet," putting extra emphasis on the someone right In front of him, Knockout rolled his eyes in disgust, turning his chin up at the scent of alcohol. Bulkhead straightened, and Arcee walked up behind him; the other Autobots at last entering the room from where they had stood awkwardly in the doorframe. "You lot certainly don't waste any time with the celebrations, now do you?"

"Bulkhead." Arcee scolded.

"What? Not like any of you were drinking it," he defended. When she didn't respond he continued, "not like we don't deserve it either."

"Decepticon," Ultra Magnus began, addressing Knockout despite the other's bickering.

"Medic," Knockout corrected.

"You would do well to listen to me, Decepticon Medic." The Autobot commander's voice rumbled like thunder, causing Knockout to shift in discomfort. It was the type of rumble that usually accompanied less than prideful reprimanding. He winced, grabbing at his chest. But wait, who was this mech to slander him? Last he checked he was nothing but a forgotten relic of the past. Someone who's image served more use in constructing a fake Optimus Prime than anything else. A servant to a government that no longer existed, a bringer of nothing but death and destruction. And he dared to assume anything about him?

"Hey! you don't see me scratching my paint with some lousy insignia, do you?" Knockout scoffed at the audacity of the idea, "I am a medic above all else. You spit that word as if it's a curse, but I've done more good in this ship than any commander has on either side," his voice raised with every word until he was practically yelling, "I am loyal to no one but myself, and Br-, broken pieces that I clean up."

"No one?" Arcee questioned, an unreadable expression on her face.

"No one," Knockout practically seethed. "Contrary to what you may choose to believe, I take my profession very seriously." Quickly regaining his composure, the overzealous doctor spun in a circle, gesturing to the surrounding room. At the various medical berths, the monitors, the tools, and most importantly, the buffer. "Tell me Autobots, what do you see?"

Smokescreen tilted his helm in confusion, "Um, a vehicon?"

Knockout dropped his arms in exasperation. The vehicon behind him peeking shyly over his shoulder-plates and giving the team a small wave. "I'm St-"

"-Stuff. My stuff." Knockout answered for the Autobots, ignoring the mech behind him. "This is my medical bay, because I am a medic. I may be stationed on a Decepticon ship, but that says nothing for my political alignment." He left out the part that those political alignments did happen to lie amongst those of the Decepticons, that tidbit probably wouldn't help his case. No matter, he still wasn't a con, not really.

Ultra Magnus stared at Knockout before sighing, and trying again. "Be that as it may, it is my understanding that you have aided in the victory, and defeat, of several Decepticon battles. Spanning across planets such as Velocitron, Junkion, Earth, and more recently," his eyes met Knockouts, "Cybertron."

"Junkion?" Wheeljack laughed, "what in the pits were you doing on Junkion?"

"It was a relief mission."

"You know what? I don't care."

'When did he even get here? Where did he go in the first place?' Knockout pondered. Then the stench of high-grade wafted over him, and he considered himself stupid for wondering.

Ultra Magnus took control of the conversation yet again. "No matter the reason. You actively hindered the progress of restoring Cybertron, and committed several less than moral deeds along the way." Knockout's shoulders slumped. This was it, he was going to jail. Or worse, Junkion. "However, this is a complicated situation, and we do not believe you to be a threat."

"Should I be flattered?" Knockout sarcastically remarked.

The Autobot commander ignored him. "We have reached a solution." Outside the doors, Ratchet, by the sounds of it, began to scream. "Though we are not in total agreement," Ultra Magnus added as an afterthought.

"Ratchet will be overseeing your," Arcee paused, as if searching for the correct words, "rehabilitation."

The med-bay doors shot open, and countless vehicon's rushed through. They were panicking, sprinting away from an oncoming threat, practically trampling over each other as they piled themselves into the room.

"What is the meaning of this?" Knockout yelled to no one in particular.

A wrench came flying through the door, smacking a vehicon on the back side of the helm. They fell to the floor with a crash. Behind them, an orange and white bot stood with valour. Vehicon's scrambled out of his path, pushing up against the walls and onto the counter tops to escape. Ratchet's gaze parted the sea. A path ran straight from him, to Knockout. Two medics on opposite sides, the same soldiers between them. Ratchet's expression deepened in uncontained rage.

Smokescreen, not quite reading the room, cheered out in excitement. "We're sending you to Earth!"