Chapter Text
Before the beginning of the great war, the citizens of the planet Cybertron were divided by a class system that was based on birthright and functionality. Those that were privileged enough to be born into the upper or elite class controlled the wealth and almost all positions of power. Under this strict caste system, only those born into the elite class could attain a seat in the Senate or become a Prime.
The elite class were not forced to abide by the majority of the laws and restrictions imposed upon the average citizen. This meant that they had the freedom to choose alternate modes and primary functions. The upper echelons of Cybertronian society were also distinct in their beauty. Unlike the coarse and somewhat ugly appearance of working class bots that were forced to slave in the mines or other distasteful jobs, elite class bots were deliberately forged to be attractive. This made it easy to distinguish the classes from a distance. Most elite class were tall and slim with graceful features that made them ideal for jobs like body modeling.
The working class comprised the majority of Cybertronian society. If a bot was born into the working class they were not allowed to choose their alternate modes or occupation. By law, whatever job a bot was born into was the job they would perform until they ceased functioning. To violate this rule was punishable by imprisonment and forced reprogramming.
The most restricted class was the gladiators. This was not an official class since it was comprised mainly of working class bots that had been deemed too violent to retain their primary functions. Once declared a gladiator, these bots were forced to give up their personhood, citizenship and all worldly possessions. They were the most maligned of all Cybertronians and lived miserable existences until their untimely demise in the Arena.
There was much tension between the two main classes of Cybertronians but it simmered beneath a façade of peace and prosperity. Fear and mistrust of the elite class pervaded every facet of Cybertronian society and made for a very strict hierarchy. Fraternization between the elite and working classes was not a criminal offense but was considered taboo. Elite class bots often deliberately avoided contact with those of lower forging and would limit contact with them as much as possible. Most working class bots also knew better than to attempt to befriend those in the elite class.
Knock Out was the physical embodiment of everything that was wrong with Cybertronian society. Born into the elite class during the end of Cybertron’s golden age, Knock Out was young, arrogant and painfully handsome. Tall and slender, his entire body was painted a fiery red with gold and chrome accents. He was also a lifelong body modification addict and was constantly sporting the newest and hottest upgrades that money could buy.
Since Knock Out was born into the elite class, he had the option to choose his profession. He tried several different careers before he finally settled on becoming a Medical Officer. Becoming a certified Medical Officer on Cybertron was no small task. Only one of every thousand applicants to the program actually managed to pass the entrance exam to become an intern. The few applicants that actually managed to become interns would then face twenty kilocycles of training before being formally given the title.
It wasn’t unusual for those of higher birth to use their social clout to attain positions that they were not qualified for. This type of pandering was so commonplace that it was more unusual for those in the elite class to gain their positions by legitimate means. Knock Out was indeed qualified, but in order to speed up the approval process he made sure he was endorsed by several prominent Senators.
At that time, all of the other interns that were accepted into Commander Ratchet’s program were from the working class. They had literally been created to work in their designated field; their bodies were built for function not show. Knock Out, with his dashing good looks and obvious elite bloodline, stood out like a sore thumb. The other interns barely hid their distain for Knock Out. They were well aware that Knock Out had probably not taken the entrance exam and was only there because of his connections. It also didn’t help that Knock Out treated all of the other interns as if they were inferior to him.
It wasn’t Knock Out’s fault that he behaved as if he was better than his fellow interns. The elite class were all programmed with a massive superiority complex. If they deigned to speak to someone of a lower birth it was the equivalent of a charitable act. Conceited, vain and generally unpleasant to work with, Knock Out quickly became the most loathed intern on the campus. Even the head medical officers avoided contact with him unless it was absolutely necessary.
The forced isolation didn’t bother Knock Out at all. He preferred to work alone. In his long life he had never had time for lasting friendships or relationships. He just seemed genuinely unable to really care about anyone other than himself. When he took a break from studying, Knock Out was usually at the racetrack surrounded by other bots that were just as shallow and beautiful as he was.
Over the kilocycles, Knock Out’s powerful connections with the Senate slowly dissolved and all of his other patrons pulled away leaving him with only the empty title of being part of the elite class. While he still looked the part, he no longer had the influence that those born with his bloodline generally had. This put Knock Out in a dangerous place. He was well aware that a lot of the senior medical officers only tolerated him because of his connections, and with those gone, there was no one around to protect him from being expelled. Even Commander Ratchet seemed leery of him when they crossed paths.
After twelve kilocycles of mysterious mishaps with his patients, Knock Out had been all but barred from being alone with any severely injured bots. He was seldom called during emergency drills and generally only heard about the outcomes via eavesdropping on the other interns.
On a particularly gloomy day, Knock Out found himself assigned the menial task of collecting the charts of patients that had already been discharged. He knew it was a fool’s task, and a waste of his talents, but he agreed to it to appease his superiors. As he stooped down to collect yet another chart, he suddenly heard a blood curdling scream from the hallway. It was followed by the sound of furniture splintering as it was thrown with great force against the walls of the Annex. The emergency siren went off signaling all available personnel to assist at once.
Knock Out hesitated. He knew that the other interns generally didn’t want his assistance with anything. He also felt that whatever was causing the unholy din in the hallway sounded far too dangerous for a bot of his size to deal with. As the sounds of fury and horror escalated, Knock Out found himself looking around for a possible weapon. Before he could find anything of use, the door slammed open and the largest bot he had ever seen charged into the room. The intruder’s wide body was a uniform dark blue with silver accents. His most shocking feature was his bright red face.
The enormous bot was badly hurt. His entire body was riddled with gaping wounds and he was oozing coolant and other essential fluids at an alarming rate. Knock Out immediately recognized the intruder as the gladiator that had been brought into the Medical Annex the previous day.
The gladiator didn’t seem to notice Knock Out at all and busied himself with closing and locking the door. He then began to back away from the door as if he expected it to be kicked down at any moment. Knock Out pressed himself against the wall and tried to remain unnoticed. He wasn’t sure what was going on but he was thankful that for the moment that the monstrous Cybertronian seemed to be preoccupied. There were the sounds of frantic footfalls outside of the door and then the handle rattled.
“It’s locked. Do you think he’s in there?” A voice said from outside the room.
“Probably not. Besides I don’t have a key.” Another voice replied, “Come on, the odds of someone that big and stupid hiding by locking themselves in a room are like zero to none. He’s probably halfway to the main gate by now.”
Knock Out’s heart filled with dread as he heard the two bots leaving. He was now trapped with a bot that was not only stupid, but extremely dangerous as well.
As if on cue, the enormous gladiator suddenly became aware that he wasn’t alone in the room. He turned with a snarl to face the petrified Knock Out, “How did you get in here?!”
Knock Out took a deep breath. He knew that depending on how he handled this he may or may not leave the room alive. The gladiator’s labored breathing told him that if he stalled long enough that the gladiator may just pass out on his own.
Knock Out put on his most charming smile and cleared his throat, “I… um.. was actually already in here. You seem to have gotten yourself in a spot of trouble… perhaps I could be of assistance?”
The enormous gladiator quickly glanced over his shoulder as he heard the sound of more footsteps running past the door. He frowned, “Yeah… I killed a nurse bot. I may have killed a few interns too. Can you get me out of here?”
“…um… well I could try.” Knock Out said hesitantly, “You’re not planning to kill me too are you?”
“I didn’t kill them on purpose... It was an accident.” He said, “Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”
“I see… well I guess accidents happen.” Knock Out replied, “I’d appreciate it if you don’t let one of these accidents happen to me.”
The massive bot grunted in annoyance, “Can you get me out here or not?”
“I said I’d try… but seriously have you seen the shape you’re in? Why in Primus' name are you trying to escape?” Knock Out said with a frown, “You need surgery. Badly. You’re leaking all over the place.”
The gladiator eyed Knock Out warily. Like most gladiators, he had a special kind of hatred for those who were born into the elite class. Encounters with bots that looked like Knock Out never ended well.
“I don’t need anyone’s help. I just want to leave.” He growled, “Why are you here anyway? I thought the elite class had their own doctors.”
Knock Out grimaced, “I’m not a patient. I work here. I’m an intern.”
The gladiator was genuinely surprised. He let loose a snort of laughter, “You? An Intern? You don’t look like any medical bot I’ve ever seen!”
Knock Out bristled at being mocked by the enormous gladiator. He grinded his teeth and reminded himself that he had to remain on his best behavior if he wanted to get out of this room alive. He grimaced, “Yes… well I’ll take that as a compliment. Now would you mind telling me why such a strong, obviously intelligent bot like yourself has decided to let himself bleed to death?”
The gladiator frowned. He wasn’t sure if the little red bot was being sarcastic when he referred to him as intelligent, “I’m fine.”
“If you go home… which I assume is the Arena barracks… you’re going to die.” Knock Out said matter-of-factly, “If you’d like, I can see if I can stop the bleeding.”
“I’ve been hurt worse than this.” The gladiator growled, “Besides I doubt someone that looks like you would know how to fix me anyway.”
Knock Out’s indignation at being talked down to by an inferior life form had reached its breaking point. His red eyes flashed with anger, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re no more a real medical bot than I am.” The massive bot said condescendingly, “Looks like anyone can buy an internship nowadays.”
Knock Out suddenly forgot how precarious his situation was and pulled himself up to his full height in front of the enormous blue bot. He bared his teeth in a snarl, “Look, buddy. I am the best damn intern in this building. And for the record, I didn’t buy my way into this internship. I applied just like the rest of these grunts.” He said firmly, “Yes I had better endorsements than them… but I still got in mostly on my own merits. Not only could I fix you but I could probably make you into a better gladiator than you ever were!”
“Whatever. Anyways I told you I don’t want any help. I don’t want anyone’s…” Suddenly the gladiator's yellow eyes glazed over and his breathing became even more labored. The enormous bot staggered and fell to his knees as he gasped for air.
As the ailing gladiator slumped into a heap on the floor, Knock Out smiled, “Finally.”
Knock Out stepped around the wheezing gladiator and began to make his way to the door. As he reached for the handle of the door, he hesitated. Knock Out knew he didn’t need to prove his medical prowess to a creature as low as a gladiator… but it bothered him that some other intern was going to get the credit for saving his life.
With another sigh, Knock Out calmly walked back over to the barely conscious gladiator and turned him over on his back, “Just relax, my blue friend. It’ll be all over soon.”
Thirty minutes had passed and the alert sirens were still going off. There was a facility wide search going on for the missing patient. Commander Ratchet was at his wits end. The gladiator known as Breakdown was a huge threat to everyone in the building, including other patients. He had ordered every door to be opened by maintenance until they found the rogue gladiator.
Commander Ratchet called a meeting of all available interns and immediately noticed that one was missing, “…has anyone seen Knock Out?”
A general mutter of distain swept through the large crowd of interns. Crash, one of the senior interns spoke up, “Haven’t seen him all day. Maybe big blue got him too.”
Another intern by the name of Ramshot, “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer bot.” He said snidely.
Ratchet was fully aware of the contempt that the majority of the interns had for Knock Out. However, Crash’s animosity towards Knock Out bordered on legendary. The senior intern had singled Knock Out for his distain from the moment that Knock Out was inducted into the internship program. Crash hated the fact that Knock Out hadn’t earned his place amongst them based solely on his scholastic merits. Like all the other interns, Crash had to fight for his place in Commander Ratchet’s program. He was now one of the top students and only four kilocycles away from becoming a full Medical Officer. The ongoing feud between the two bots had been going on for the last twelve kilocycles and it didn’t look like it was going to lose steam anytime soon.
Ratchet didn’t like Knock Out very much either but he at least tried to be civil when forced to work with him. He frowned at Crash and Ramshot, “That’s enough you two. This is not a joke. Three bots have already lost their lives in this facility today because of Breakdown. Knock Out may be a jerk but even he deserves a better fate than being crushed by a marauding gladiator.”
“Commander do you honestly think that if those two crossed paths that Knock Out would be able to keep that nasty attitude of his in check? He’s about as tactful as a pile of slag.” Crash continued with a wry smile, “He’s probably already a greasy stain on the wall by now.”
An intern named Static spoke up, “Maybe Knock Out can call in a favor or two from the Senate to persuade Breakdown from crushing his head.” He said with a snort.
Ratchet sighed as he heard mutters of agreement and sniggering from the gathered interns, “All of you, that’s enough! Whether you like him or not, he’s one of us. Now fan out. We need everyone to be accounted for.”
Crash rolled his eyes, “You got it, Commander.” He turned to the other interns, “You heard him. Fan out! Let’s go find our little red buddy.”
“I’m right here.”
The large group of interns turned at once to look in the direction of the voice. Knock Out stood a short distance away near an open doorway as he wiped the coolant off of his hands with a rag. It was obvious from his demeanor that he had heard every word that had been said.
Crash met Knock Out’s glare with a cool smile, “Praise Primus! The prodigal son returns!”
Ratchet pushed past the other interns to get to where Knock Out was standing. His wide gray face was livid, “Knock Out, where were you?! I ordered all interns to report to me thirty minutes ago!”
Knock Out regarded Ratchet with cold indifference, “Yes… I’m afraid I was a little busy.”
“Busy doing what?! There is a dangerous gladiator loose in the building!” Ratchet yelled, “He’s killed several interns already!”
“According to him he’s killed a nurse and several interns… but I digress.” Knock Out replied coolly, “Would you like to see him?”
Ratchet was at a loss for words. He stared blankly at Knock Out for a moment before speaking, “…wait… you know where he is?”
Knock Out turned on his heel and walked back into the room, “He’s in here.”
Ratchet looked at Crash and then followed Knock Out. He stopped mid-step upon seeing Breakdown’s comatose body laying in the middle of the floor, “Is he… dead?” He asked wide eyed.
“He’s just been sedated.” Knock Out kneeled beside the gladiator's body, “He’s stable now. I managed to stop the bleeding and reconnected his coolant system.”
“… I hope you don’t mind me asking… but how in the world did you get him to let you operate on him? He wouldn’t let anyone near him.” Ratchet asked.
“It helped that he passed out not too long after locking himself in here with me. After that it was relatively easy to do the repairs.” Knock Out said and stood, “I’d suggest getting him to a containment unit as soon as possible. I had to guess at the amount of sedative to use. He may be out for a few hours or just the next thirty minutes.”
Crash eased by Ratchet and walked into the room. Unlike the other interns, Crash was actually quite impressive to look at. He was tall and graceful with a slender face and slight form. His pearly blue and chrome finish was accented by his deep cobalt eyes.
Crash approached Knock Out with a malicious smile on his face, “Looks like your luck held up again, Knock Out. You are the last bot I’d have expected to survive an encounter with Breakdown.”
“Yes. I heard.” Knock Out glared at Crash, “I’m sorry I’m not a greasy stain on the wall. I know how you were so looking forward to cleaning that up.”
Ratchet placed a hand on Crash’s shoulder, “Enough. Crash, take a few interns and go prep the containment unit. We’ll finish up here.”
“As you wish, Commander Ratchet,” Crash said with a mock bow and then turned to leave. A small entourage of interns quickly gathered at Crash’s heels and followed him out of the room.
Ratchet watched them go and heaved a great sigh, “Not to play devil’s advocate, but you did get damn lucky. We should not be standing here having this conversation right now.”
“He actually seemed more confused than dangerous.” Knock Out said, “I think he ran because he was afraid what would happen to him after he accidentally killed that nurse. The interns probably just got in his way… and well he was a bit frantic.”
“That’s a big understatement.” Ratchet narrowed his blue eyes, “If I didn’t know better I’d think you were defending his actions.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just paraphrasing you what he told me.” Knock Out shrugged, “Anyway… may I be excused? My shift ended an hour ago. I seriously doubt that you need any further assistance from me.”
“You’re excused.” Ratchet said, “But keep your communicator on.”
“I never turn it off.” Knock Out said and left the room.
Knock Out lived off campus in a luxurious one-bedroom apartment. It seemed a bit extravagant for a mere intern, but the rent was offset by a trust fund that had been set up for him by one of his contacts in the Senate before that particular relationship went sour. The apartment was far too big for a single bot, but Knock Out enjoyed having a lot of space. Every top of the line appliance was installed in the apartment, including a hot oil tub. The other interns were aware of Knock Out’s living conditions, but none of them had actually had the privilege of seeing it for themselves. After all, only those that he felt were worthy of his company were ever invited back to his apartment.
His trust fund was finite and Knock Out knew that eventually it would run out. Between the apartment and his expensive body modification hobby, the fund was being drained at an alarming rate. Unbeknownst to his fellow interns and the higher ranking officers in the Medical Annex, Knock Out was supplementing the income from his internship and his trust fund by stealing medical supplies and selling them on the black market. He was also extremely active in the underground racing circuit.
In Iacon, street racing was illegal. If you wanted to race, you were required to get a proper permit and then you were only allowed to race in specified areas. Obtaining a permit was a long and tedious process and generally only those who were specifically built for racing would be granted said permits. Bots like Knock Out who were just heavily modified in order to race were generally excluded. The prejudice against “new mod” racers was so strong amongst the legitimate racing community that even the backing of the Senate was not enough to guarantee a racing permit.
Knock Out had not been born to race, but thanks to his bloodline he was able to obtain upgrades to his body that most low forged bots could only dream of. He had actually lost count of how many modifications had been made to his body over the kilocycles. Knock Out now had the dubious position of top racer among his peers, but such a title came at a price. The underground racing circuit was a competitive one and in order to keep up with the younger racers, Knock Out had to constantly keep on top of the newest and hottest upgrades. Due to this he was constantly looking for ways to improve his speed and general appearance.
Later that night, Knock Out made his way to the outer skirts of Iacon city. This was a rough area of town that was avoided by more civilized Cybertronians. It wasn’t as dangerous as the neighboring city of Vos, but a lot of the activities that took place in Vos also spilled into this outlying area. Knock Out was something of a celebrity amongst the other underground racers and as soon as he arrived he was swarmed by adoring wannabes.
With some difficulty, Knock Out made his way through his throng of admirers and managed to locate his small group of fellow elite class racers. Most of the racers in the underground circuit were of lower forging status and lacked the refinement that Knock Out valued in his associates. Almost as soon as he became involved with racing, he met up with Dabros and his crew.
Dabros was a personable bot with well-defined features. His slender silver body was accented with streaks of neon green and yellow. During the day Dabros worked as a body model, but at night he indulged his baser instincts by racing for Energon. Like Knock Out, he knew he was good looking and always used his appearance to his advantage.
Dabros smiled lasciviously at Knock Out, “You actually showed up. I thought you were going to flake out on us again.”
“I never flake out. I have a real job with obligations.” Knock Out said annoyed, “You know that my internship always comes first.”
“I'll never understand why you want to be a Medical Officer so badly. It’s such a boring profession.” Dabros said haughtily, “You should come be a model with me. It doesn’t pay as much, but it takes far less processor power to get through the day.”
Knock Out gave Dabros a flat look, “I happen to like using my processor. Besides, what’s going to happen to your illustrious career as a body model when you spin out on the track one day? At least if I mess up my body I’ll have a career to fall back on.”
“You wound me with your words, Knock Out.” Dabros mocked, “What’s the matter, Bad day?”
“I was almost murdered.”
The four other bots that were standing near Dabros stared at Knock Out wide eyed. One of them was a beautiful gold and white fembot name Goldspar, “…what happened? Are you damaged?”
“Thankfully no.” Knock Out said, “But the whole situation left kind of a bad taste in my mouth. I just want to get on the track and forget all about it.”
One of the other bots that was standing near Dabros spoke up. His name was Darkshade and he too was a body model. He was a few heads shorter than Dabros and his body was slightly wider. His overall dark black finish was polished to a high shine, “You can’t just leave us hanging like that, Knock Out. What happened? Did Crash finally get the jump on you?”
Knock Out felt a flare of rage at the mention of Crash’s name. He took a deep breath to calm himself, “No. Crash wasn’t involved. A rogue gladiator escaped from surgery and went on a rampage. I ended up trapped in a room with the brute. Thankfully he passed out from loss of fluids before anything dreadful happened… but it was still a very distressing experience.”
The other fembot that was standing near Dabros stepped forward. Her name was Dawnstar. She was equal in beauty to Dabros himself. Her light blue chrome finish shimmered in the low light, “You came face to face with a gladiator and lived? That’s amazing!”
“I’ll say!” Dabros said, “How on Cybertron did you manage not to die?”
“I said he passed out.” Knock Out repeated.
“Damn. So… which one was it? Did you get his name?” Darkshade asked a bit too eagerly.
“I have no idea. He was big and blue with a red face.” Knock Out sighed, “I honestly don’t go about asking names of people who I think are going to crush me to death.”
Dabros tapped his pointed chin, “Blue with a red face… I wonder if it was Breakdown. I haven’t seen him in the Arena the last few days. He was amazing. He NEVER lost a match… well until his last match. I actually heard that he died during his last battle.”
“Yeah… I think that was his name.” Knock Out replied, “Anyway he’s not dead. He’s recovering at the Medical Annex under the tender care of Commander Ratchet.”
“Man… I can’t get over you meeting a celebrity like Breakdown. Maybe I should have applied for that internship. You get to meet all the cool people.” Dabros leered, “What was he like up close? Was he fascinating? Was he… cute?”
Knock Out bristled in fury, “What is wrong with you?! He is a brutish cur! He KILLED four people! Primus I don’t know why I hang out with you people sometimes! What about I almost died don’t you get?!” He yelled, “Just forget about it! I’m going to the track.”
As Knock Out began to angrily stomp off he paused and looked over his shoulder, “You did register me right?”
Dabros looked at the other four bots and shrugged, “Well we didn’t think you were going to show… there is a hefty penalty for registering a bot who is a no show.”
“Whatever. I’ll register myself.” Knock Out said and walked off, “I’ll see you on the track.”
As soon as Knock Out was out of earshot, Dabros turned to Darkshade and chuckled, “He thought he was cute.”
Knock Out quickly made his way to the registration stand and paid his entry fee. Thankfully there were a few slots still open. He was so shaken up by the events of the day that he just wanted to lose himself in the sheer ecstasy that came with traveling at high speeds. There was nothing quite like the feeling of grit beneath his wheels as he tore around the track at speeds that would cripple a lesser bot.
Dabros and the rest of his group were already at the starting line by the time Knock Out finished registering. He took his place next to Dabros, “So… you think you’ll beat me this time?”
“I managed to get ahold of some Nitro-Energon this morning. It’s supposed to boost your speed tenfold.” Dabros said with a smile.
“You’re a lousy cheater.” Knock Out chided, “Well I guess you need all the help you can get.”
“You’re just mad that I called you out about enjoying your little brush with death.” Dabros replied.
Knock Out frowned at Dabros, “…what the hell is that supposed to mean? I’ll have you know…”
Knock Out was cut off by the blare of the buzzer signaling the start of the race. Immediately everyone at the starting line transformed into their vehicle modes and sped off down the racetrack. Knock Out quickly took the lead and held it despite Dabros’ speed boosting drugs. Within seconds, Knock Out had left Dabros and the rest of his crew in his dust.
The roar of the engines combined with the cheers from the onlookers was deafening. As Knock Out solidified his lead in the race, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that several other racers were beginning to gain on him. Annoyed, Knock Out put on an extra boost of speed and began to barrel towards the finish line. He was so intensely focused on crossing the finish line that he failed to notice a large piece of jagged debris laying across the track. He hit the shrapnel hard, immediately rupturing his front tires. The other racers gave Knock Out a wide berth as he careened out of control and smashed head first into the side of the track.
Several hours later, Knock Out groggily awoke in his Energon regeneration chamber. His entire body ached and he had no idea how he got home. With some effort, he opened the heavy door to the pod like chamber and stumbled into the room. As Knock Out staggered towards the bedroom door he could hear voices coming from the other side. He frowned, apparently there was a party in his living room and he was the only one not invited.
Dabros was the first to notice Knock Out entering the room. His handsome face split into a wide smile and he threw his arms open, “Thank Primus! He lives!”
Dabros, Goldspar, Darkshade and Dawnstar were all gathered in his kitchen helping themselves to Knock Out’s premium Energon drinks. Several empty cases littered the floor.
Darkshade and Dawnstar quickly rushed to Knock Out’s side to help him walk. Darkshade smiled, “We didn’t think you’d be up this quickly. You should have been out for a least a few more hours.”
Knock Out sat down on one of the bar stools in the kitchen with a groan of pain, “What happened? The last thing I remember is being on the track… how did I get back here?”
”You crashed and burned on the track. It was brutal. “Dabros offered Knock Out a sip of his drink, “They’re going to be scraping red paint off the wall for weeks.”
Knock Out pushed the drink aside. He wasn’t really in the mood, “Damn it… how long was I out? Did I at least get close to the finish line?”
Goldspar shook her pretty head, “I’m afraid not. Whatever you hit sliced your tires wide open. You got lucky… your damage was mostly superficial. Dabros managed to fix you up as soon as the race was over with.”
“I guess that explains why everything isn’t quite where it should be…” Knock Out groaned, “I’ll have to run a self-diagnostic later to see what he missed.”
Dabros took a long sip on his drink and then licked his lip, “You should be thankful that I buffed all the scrapes out of your finish. Your system might not be perfect, but at least you look good.”
“Yeah…thanks.” Knock Out replied, “So who won after I blacked out?”
Dabros smiled widely, “I did. Everyone was trying to avoid running over your carcass so they had to slow down… I used that to my advantage and took the lead. It was AMAZING. Literally everyone was cheering me on!”
Knock Out suddenly realized that it had been several hours since he checked his communicator. He touched the side of his head and discovered to his horror that it was missing. He quickly got to his feet, “Wait… where’s my communicator?!”
Darkshade and Dabros looked at each other. Dabros then cleared his throat, “Yeah… about that…”
“Dabros ran it over as he tore his way to the finish line.” Goldspar said with a frown.
Dabros glared at Goldspar, “I didn’t do it on purpose.” He growled, “It was a freak accident. The damn thing went flying off his body when he hit the wall. How the hell was I supposed to see something that tiny?”
“If you had bothered to slow down when Knock Out hit the wall maybe you would have seen it.” Dawnstar muttered.
“Don’t you start with me too!” Dabros growled, “I didn’t see you slowing down!”
“Everyone shut up!” Knock Out yelled, “Damn it Dabros… I needed that communicator to keep in contact with the Medical Annex! Please tell me you were able to salvage it!”
Dabros fished a tiny, flattened piece of metal out of his chest compartment and handed it to Knock Out, “Here’s what’s left of it. You really don’t have a backup?”
Knock Out’s metal heart sank as he looked at the crushed communicator in the palm of his hand. He clenched his teeth together in frustration, “Everyone just get out.”
“Seriously? But I’m not finished with my drink.” Dabros pouted.
“Oh for Primus sake! Take your drink with you!” Knock Out replied with a snarl, “I don’t have time for this right now! I just checked my internal chronometer and I have to be at the medical annex in two hours… I barely have enough time to get ready! I just need to be alone!”
“Suit yourself. Thanks for the drinks.” Dabros said and slid off his bar stool, “Come on guys, we can go hang out at my place until Knock Out decides to grace us with his presence again.”
“See ya later, Knock Out. Hope you feel better.” Goldspar said as she followed Dabros out of the apartment and closed the door behind her.
Now that Knock Out was alone he flopped back onto his barstool with a groan. He could sense that it was going to be a very long and miserable day.
As soon as Knock Out arrived at the Medical Annex, he was paged over the intercom by Commander Ratchet. He was certain he was being summoned over not being able to answer his communicator the previous night. With a deep sigh, Knock Out entered Ratchet’s office and braced himself for the worst.
“You paged me, Commander?” Knock Out asked carefully and closed the door behind him.
Ratchet was seated behind his massive desk. His wide gray face was tense with annoyance. He frowned at Knock Out, “Where were you? We’ve been trying to contact you for hours.”
Knock Out sat down in the chair in front of Ratchet’s desk, “Ah… yes… um… my communicator kind of got destroyed last night.”
Ratchet raised an eyebrow, “Destroyed? Care to elaborate on how that happened?”
“I’d rather not… it was just bad luck.” Knock Out replied.
Ratchet grunted and shuffled some paperwork on his desk, “Fine… it’s really none of my business what you do with your free time. We’ll just leave it as an accident. The replacement for your destroyed communicator will come out of your pay.”
“Understood.” Knock Out said, “So… what was so urgent that you have been trying to contact me for hours? Surely I’m not the only intern that you could call upon on your hour of need? Primus knows the other interns would be much happier if I didn’t show up.”
Ratchet averted his blue eyes and cleared his throat, “We have a slight problem. As you know, yesterday after you left we took the gladiator Breakdown to the recovery bay. All was well until he… woke up.”
“Oh great. Did he go on another spontaneous killing spree?”
“Not exactly. The problem is the other interns are afraid to go near him to administer the required aftercare.” He continued, “Even Crash is hesitant to go near him.”
Knock Out narrowed his red eyes, “And what does this have to do with me?”
“Well since you so successfully dealt with him the last time we were thinking…”
“I was only successful with dealing with that brute because he passed out before he could do me any harm.” Knock Out interrupted, “Like you said, I got lucky.”
“The other interns he encountered he killed immediately. I think there’s something more than luck that kept you alive, Knock Out.” Ratchet replied, “He actually spoke to you. You’re the only one he’s spoken to since he was first admitted to the annex.”
Knock Out rubbed his forehead, “Where are you going with this, Commander? I really hope you’re not getting ready to suggest what I think you are.”
Ratchet heaved a sigh, “After discussing it in length with the other interns and Crash… we think that you should take over Breakdown’s aftercare.”
Knock Out’s eyes went wide and he shot up from his chair, “You’re joking right?! How is it okay for all of the other interns to opt out of dealing with that maniac but yet it’s perfectly okay to sacrifice me?!”
Ratchet narrowed his eyes, “You’ve certainly changed your tune from yesterday, lad. Weren’t you the one that was saying that he was just scared and confused?”
“He’s probably still scared and confused! When something that big and stupid gets scared and confused, bots get killed!” Knock Out screamed, “The only reason why you’re doing this is that EVERYONE thinks I’m expendable!”
“All precautions will be taken to ensure your safety, Knock Out.” Ratchet said flatly, “And no one thinks you are expendable.”
“Oh really? Not even your precious, Crash?” Knock Out folded his arms. “I’m sure he was completely torn up when my name shot to the top of the volunteer list.”
“Crash actually tried to call you on your communicator to see if you were okay with being selected. Unfortunately you never received the message.”
“Whether he called me or not is not important. I’m sure that everyone’s mind was made up by the time he felt the need to call me anyway.” Knock Out replied, “And I’m not even sure he is telling the truth. You know how much Crash hates me.”
“I was there when he called your communicator. He left a pretty detailed message.” Ratchet replied, “However, If you really feel this strongly against working with Breakdown again I suppose I have no choice but to find someone else to deal with him.”
Knock Out narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “So… that’s it?”
“Pretty much. I’m not going to force you into a situation that may end up dangerous for the patient. If you’re scared of him, you’re not going to give him the best aftercare.” Ratchet stood and walked around his desk, “I’ll contact Crash and we’ll figure out who is the next best suited to care for Breakdown.” He opened the door to his office, “You are dismissed.”
Knock Out hesitated. Once again he was being placed in a no win scenario. He knew that Crash had skillfully manipulated the situation so that he would be forced into working with the monstrous gladiator again. He was also certain that it wasn’t that difficult for the charismatic Crash to sway the rest of the interns into lying about how terrified they were of working with Breakdown. He suspected that if he turned down this assignment that Crash would make sure that his life became even more difficult. It was hard being the least liked intern on campus.
Knock Out clenched his fists and put on a brave face, “Wait… I-I’ve changed my mind.”
Ratchet was genuinely confused, “Really? Why?”
“I think you’re right… I’m probably the best to handle him. As long as he’s restrained I guess I really have nothing to worry about.” Knock Out hesitated, “He will be restrained right?”
Ratchet closed the door and walked back over to his desk, “He is currently strapped to his recovery bed and his Energon intake is being restricted to minimum. He is literally only being given enough Energon to stay alive but not enough to give him his full strength back.”
“And you’re sure he can’t break free of the restraints?”
“I doubt he will. Those restraints were intended for a bot far stronger than him.”
“I suppose that’s reassuring.” Knock Out muttered, “I take it I’m going solo on this as well?”
Ratchet nodded, “If you absolutely need assistance you can page Crash.”
The thought of having to ask Crash for help made Knock Out's metal skin crawl. He tried to hide his distaste with a forced smile, “Yes… of course, Commander.”
Ratchet opened the top drawer of his desk and retrieved a new communicator and slid it across the desk to Knock Out, “Speaking of which, here is your new communicator. Please try not to destroy this one.”
Knock Out affixed the new communicator to the side of his head, “Yeah… I’ll be more careful with this one.”
“Good.” Ratchet replied, “Follow me. I'll take you to your patient.”
The two bots walked silently down the hallways of the Medical Annex until they came to the furthermost corner of the complex. The isolation ward of the Medical Annex was mostly abandoned and was seldom used for anything other than storing medical equipment. The isolation ward was used for quarantine and for holding potentially violent patients like Breakdown. Knock Out noticed with some consternation that most of the equipment that he would be using to monitor his new patient was extremely old. He hoped that at least the restraints that were holding the volatile gladiator were up to date.
As they entered the isolation ward, Knock Out saw Breakdown’s massive form strapped down to a large operating table. Thick metal bands encased his legs and wrists holding him firmly to the table. Several tubes were hooked up to his chest injecting a steady stream of Energon. The only part of the gladiator's body that wasn’t secured to the table was his head.
Upon hearing footsteps in the room, Breakdown craned his head to see who had disturbed his peace. His brow furrowed upon seeing Knock Out, “Him again?” He grumbled, “What happened to the other intern that was attending to me?”
“He’s been reassigned.” Ratchet said, “This is Knock Out. He will be tending to you for the next few weeks.”
Breakdown’s already dour expression hardened. He was not pleased with this new development.
“You’re in good hands.” Ratchet continued, “Knock Out will make sure that you make a speedy recovery.”
Breakdown graced Knock Out with a look of disgust and then looked back at Ratchet, “Do I get a vote in this?”
“I’m afraid not.” Ratchet said and turned to leave. He patted Knock Out on the shoulder, “Good luck, Lad.”
Ratchet then walked off leaving Knock Out alone with his reluctant patient.
With a sigh, Knock Out walked over to pick up the data pad next to Breakdown’s bed. As he scrolled through the data pad he spoke, “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t want to be here either. The situation really couldn’t be helped.”
“Then leave. They’ll send a replacement intern just like they did for the last guy.” Breakdown growled.
“It’s not that simple.” Knock Out replied, “We’re stuck with each other. Crash and the other interns all got together and claimed to be terrified of working with you… so here I am.”
Breakdown scowled but remained silent.
“Oh and you’re welcome for saving your life by the way.” Knock Out said, “I wasn’t sure if they passed on that little gem of information.”
“…You saved my life?”
“Yep.” Knock Out said and continued to scroll through the data pad, “If I hadn’t acted quickly you would have gone into permanent shutdown right there on the floor where you fell. You really were a mess.”
“No one said anything to me.” Breakdown said, “Why did you save me?”
Knock Out rolled his eyes, “As I said yesterday, I’m training to become a medical officer. It’s kind of a requirement to try to save everyone.” He continued, “Besides, I wasn’t going to let some other intern get the credit.”
“I still don’t like you.”
“And I appreciate your honesty.” Knock Out quipped and walked across the room, “You don’t have to like me… but you can at least be civil. The next four weeks are going to be tough enough without you adding to it with a bad attitude.”
“I’m going to have to be here for four weeks?” Breakdown growled.
“Probably. It all depends on how extensive the damage was to your body. It may take longer than that.” Knock Out continued.
“I can’t be out of action for four weeks! They’ll replace me!” Breakdown yelled, “You have to figure a way to get me out of here sooner!”
“I’m good but I’m no miracle worker.” Knock Out said casually, “I’ll do my best to speed up the process of healing but in the end it’s up to your body.”
“This is such crap!” Breakdown snarled and strained against his bonds, “I feel fine! Just let me out of here!”
Knock Out watched nervously to see if the restraints held. After a few minutes of straining against the thick metal straps, Breakdown stopped struggling and sagged against the table. His breath came in ragged gasps.
After he was certain that Breakdown had calmed down a bit, Knock Out walked over to his bedside, “Just try to relax. The more you struggle, the more damage you’re going to do to yourself.”
Breakdown glared hatefully at the smaller red bot once more. He knew that Knock Out would never understand the world that he came from. Just one look at Knock Out’s handsome face and pristine body told him that the little doctor wannabe had never faced a day of real hardship in his life. As he watched Knock Out carefully examining the tubes coming off his side, he couldn’t help but feel a burning envy.
As a worker class bot, Breakdown never experienced the freedom that the elite class took for granted. From day one, Breakdown was forced into a life of hardship and servitude. Even before he entered the dangerous world of the Arena, Breakdown had been forced to work in the Energon mines. Life in the mines was short and brutal for those who weren’t as strong as Breakdown. He had only survived as long as he had because he was bigger and more powerful than the average worker bot.
It bothered Breakdown that Knock Out had chosen to become a medical bot. It just didn’t make any logical sense. It was almost as if Knock Out was doing this in spite of his elite bloodline. It was well known even amongst the gladiators that elite class bots migrated towards professions that kept them at an arms length from those of lesser forging. For Knock Out to even associate with someone of Breakdown's class almost bordered on blasphemy.
Knock Out stood on his toes to reach one of the dials on the machine hooked up to Breakdown’s vitals, “I suppose I should be happy to get you as a patient.” He said, “I’ve been on probation for the last few weeks. You wouldn’t believe the mind numbingly boring tasks I’d been given until I bumped into you.”
“I really don’t care.” Breakdown growled, “Can you please just stop talking? Your voice irritates me.”
Knock Out frowned, “Fine, we don’t have to talk. You just sit there and brood and I’ll carry about my duties.”
“Good.”
The next six hours crept by in silence. At the end of his shift, Knock Out calibrated his communicator so that he could monitor Breakdown from home. After another quick check of Breakdown’s vitals, Knock Out turned to leave. Breakdown didn’t utter a word as Knock Out closed the door behind him.
Knock Out was surprised to see Dabros waiting for him outside of his apartment. For once, he was pleased to see his attractive rival. He smiled as he sorted through his keycards, “And what do I owe this pleasure, Dabros?”
“Just coming by to check on you.” Dabros said and leaned against the door, “We did kind of leave on bad terms this morning.”
Knock Out opened the door and let Dabros in, “I wouldn’t say bad terms. I was just frustrated. My day sucked again, by the way.”
“Was it Crash this time?”
“Yes and no.” Knock Out closed the door, “You remember that dreadful gladiator that I told you about?”
Dabros leered, “The cute one?”
Knock Out wrinkled his lip in disgust, “That giant idiot is not cute by any means. He’s just… big.” He said as he crossed the room, “Anyways I’ve been given the dubious honor of supervising his recovery.”
Dabros snorted, “And how the hell did that happen?”
“Crash.” Knock Out said, “It’s always Crash. He and all his cronies got together and convinced Commander Ratchet that I was the best bot for the job. They also claimed they were too scared to go near the brute.”
“Figures.” Dabros said and sat on the couch, “Well look at it this way, at least you’re doing doctor-ish stuff again.”
“Watching over a brooding, cantankerous lump of blue metal is not exactly what I signed up for when I got this internship.” Knock Out sat next to Dabros, “He literally glared at me for six hours straight. SIX HOURS. Who does that?!”
“Damn… that is impressive. He must really not like you.”
“I didn’t even give him a reason to not like me. He just instantly decided that I’m the worst and that he was going to make my life miserable for the next few weeks. At least Crash has a reason for hating me.” Knock Out huffed, “Is my voice really that annoying?”
“Sometimes.” Dabros shrugged, “But whatever, he’s just a gladiator. What the hell do you care if he doesn’t like you?”
“I care because I’m going to be trapped in a room with him for Primus knows how long.” Knock Out said and rubbed his forehead, “I almost wish he had killed me. At least I’d be saved from this silent hell.”
Dabros opened his chest compartment and fished out a small data pad, “Here. This ought to cheer you up. I was just going to slide this under your door but since you’re here I can give to you in person.”
Knock Out took the pad, “What is this?”
“Your pass to enter the ultimate race. It’s for two weeks from now.” Dabros said, “Slots were filling up fast so I’ve already signed all of us up.”
Knock Out groaned, “Dabros you know that I don’t have a set schedule… especially now with Breakdown under my care. I have to be constantly on call as long as he’s my patient.”
Dabros rolled his eyes, “It’s two weeks away… and only one night. Besides you make him sound practically indestructible. You can’t let an opportunity this big pass you by.” He continued, “This is going to be the biggest race EVER. Rumor has it that whoever wins this race may actually be drafted into legitimate racing.”
“That’s a load of slag and you know it Dabros. No one ever gets drafted from the underground races.” Knock Out said, “I think the racing promoters are starting to believe their own hype.”
“Yeah but what if it’s not hype.” Dabros leaned back and crossed his legs, “Think about it. Your handsome face could be plastered all over this city… Knock Out, champion racer.”
Knock Out’s eyes glossed over for a moment as he pictured it. Fame of that magnitude did have it’s appeal.
“This could be your big chance, Knock Out.” Dabros continued, “After that last race you really need something like this. People are beginning to say you’ve lost your edge.”
Dabros’ words snapped Knock Out back to reality. He frowned at his grinning companion, “Oh are they now? Or is it just you spreading rumors?”
Dabros smiled and ran his tongue across his sharp teeth, “A little of both.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Either way I honestly don’t care what they say.” Knock out replied, “I told you before that racing is just a hobby I do for spare Energon. My career of choice is and always will be medicine.”
“You’d really give up a chance to become a legit racer just so you can play doctor to ungrateful lumps of metal like Breakdown?” Dabros sneered, “The old Knock Out would have jumped at this.”
Knock Out handed Dabros the data pad, “I’m sorry, Dabros. I’m going to have to sit this one out. I'm sure you'll do our team proud.”
“Our team? We haven't been a TEAM for months.” Dabros ignored the offered data pad, “No, keep it. Maybe you’ll come to your senses in two weeks.”
“Dabros…”
Dabros stood, “I swear I don’t even know you anymore, Knock Out. You do realize this slot is non-refundable right? I just wasted Energon on you.”
Knock Out sighed and tossed the data pad onto the table next to the couch, “Fine. Just tell me how much it was and I’ll pay you back.”
“Don’t bother.” Dabros stood and began heading for the door, “Hopefully I’ll see you at the race… if not I hope your little dream of becoming a medical bot is worth it.”
Knock Out flinched as Dabros slammed the door behind him. He hated having to turn down such a grand opportunity but the last thing he wanted to do was risk being expelled over botching his latest assignment… especially over something as frivolous as a race.
Several hours later, Knock Out returned to the annex ready for another grueling shift of silence with his unwilling patient. Sensing that Breakdown was not in the mood to talk, Knock Out quietly carried on with his duties and tried his best to ignore the gladiator’s hateful stare.
Another three hours would pass before Breakdown finally broke the silence, “I suppose I should thank you for saving me.”
Knock Out was so startled by Breakdown speaking that he almost dropped his data pad. He quickly regained his composure, “Primus you startled me. So... are we talking now?”
Breakdown averted his eyes, “I just wanted to thank you. That was all.”
“You’re welcome.” Knock Out said with a small smile, “Nice to see that you’re not as ungrateful as you come across.”
“I still don’t get you. You shouldn’t be here.” Breakdown narrowed his yellow eyes, “Why aren’t you in the Senate or some other high paying position? I’ve never even heard of anyone from the elite class doing this kind of service work.”
Knock Out grimaced, “Well I’m not exactly your typical elite class citizen. Unlike the rest of my ilk, I prefer to make a useful contribution to society instead of just lounging around looking pretty.”
Breakdown grunted, “You must get this a lot.”
“From both bots like you and other elite bots. It would seem I'm something of an anomaly.” Knock Out shrugged, “However, I'm perfectly happy being different.”
“I don't know if different quite sums you up...” Breakdown muttered, “But you are certainly unique.”
“I've been called worse.” Knock Out smiled, “I must say… I'm glad that we are finally on speaking terms. I was worried that you were going to give me the silent treatment for the next four weeks.”
“I still might.” Breakdown looked away, “Is it still a definite that I'll be here for four weeks?”
“Your readings do look a lot better this morning.” Knock Out said and glanced at his data pad, “At this rate you may recover sooner than later.”
Breakdown grunted and fell silent again.
Knock Out crossed over to Breakdown's side, “So... since we're speaking now... can I ask you a question?”
“Depends on the question.”
“What is it like to be a gladiator? I've never actually met a gladiator until I met you.” Knock Out replied, “My friends... well so-called friends... say it's a life of glamour and fame.”
Breakdown laughed a dry humorless laugh, “There is nothing glamorous about the life of a gladiator. It's a life of isolation and death. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.”
“Well the one who told me that isn't exactly the brightest bot...” Knock Out paused, “But if it's truly that bad why would anyone choose to become a gladiator?”
Breakdown sneered at Knock Out. He was unsure if the strange red bot was being facetious or not. After a moment he decided to speak again, “No one really chooses to become a gladiator. It's something that you are forced to do because you have no other choice. Once I lost my primary function, the Arena was the only place that would have me.”
Knock Out remained silent. He knew all too well what happened to bots who had lost their primary function in society. It was a bleak existence. Without a steady stream of Energon, the only future would be starvation and death. Most bots that lost their primary purpose and were too weak for the Arena would self-terminate before submitting to the despair of Energon depravation.
Breakdown looked away, “Before I was recruited… I used to work in the Energon mines. My primary function was to haul the large chunks of Energon to the processing plant. I was good at what I did… but not too good at working with others. My temper was always a problem.”
“You don’t say.”
Breakdown ignored Knock Out’s comment, “Anyway… after I caused one too many fatal accidents, I was banished from working in the mines. That was six kilocycles ago.”
“… So you became a gladiator after that?”
“No… there were a few months where I just roved the streets doing odd jobs to get by. I was an enforcer for a short while.” Breakdown said, “Either way it was no real way to live.”
Breakdown paused. He wasn’t used to being this open with anyone. It had been kilocycles since anyone had even bothered to ask him more than his name and his current function. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Knock Out seeming genuinely interested in learning more about him.
Breakdown cleared his throat, “The arena recruiters were always on the look out for big strong bots that had lost their main function in life. I was exactly what they were looking for. They immediately refitted my body for the arena and from that day on I’ve been a gladiator.” He paused, “I’m not sure how many bots I’ve crushed… but it was either them or me. I don’t take any pleasure in what I do.”
Knock Out felt a pang of guilt for referring to Breakdown as an idiot brute earlier. He was beginning to see that Breakdown was perhaps one of the more interesting bots that he had come across. He also wasn’t nearly as stupid as he initially appeared to be. It was clear from Breakdown’s eyes how difficult it was shouldering the knowledge that his very existence depended upon extinguishing the lives of others.
“I’m afraid that I misjudged you.” Knock Out replied, “I probably should take my own advice about not judging a bot based on what they look like.”
“Most bots don’t care about my history.” Breakdown said, “They only care what I can do for them. It’s kind of nice to actually talk about it to someone.”
“Well thank you. I wish that Crash and his lackeys could hear that. They love to say how I have no bedside manner.” Knock Out said as he checked the readings on the monitor that was hooked up to the gladiator’s massive arm.
Breakdown craned his neck to look at Knock Out over his shoulder, “So… what’s your story? Did you honestly just wake up one day and decide to become a medical bot?”
“Kind of.” Knock Out said, “I’ve always had an interest in science and medicine so I figured I could make a career of it.”
“I take it the others like you didn’t approve.”
Knock Out grimaced, “The elders wanted me to go into the Senate or modeling like the rest of my moldmates. When I told them I wanted to go into public service they were livid. That’s partially why I’ve been cut off from my Energon allowance. That and the fact that I also don’t get along that well with others.”
“What is an Energon allowance?”
“It’s a large monthly or weekly stipend of Energon that everyone who is born into the elite class is guaranteed. I lost that privilege when I went against the elders.” Knock Out sighed, “Now pretty much the only income I have is this internship and the trust fund that was set up before I decided to go rogue.”
“Wow… you’re more unique than I thought.” Breakdown cracked a small smile, “I didn’t think that there was such a thing as a poor elite class bot.”
“I’m not poor. I’m just without support.” Knock Out huffed, “Once I become a full medical bot I’ll have plenty of Energon to support myself and all my hobbies… but until then things are kind of tight.”
“Why don’t you just go back? Tell them that you changed your mind.” Breakdown asked, “If I was you, that’s what I’d do. There’s no way I’d give up the life of the elite just to prove a point.”
Knock Out folded his arms. While he was glad that Breakdown was talking, he was kind of annoyed that the massive gladiator found his situation amusing, “I’m not doing this to prove a point. I told you… I like what I do. Besides, I’ve kind of burned all my bridges with the higher ranking elite class citizens. The only ones that still talk to me are kind of useless.”
“I still can’t imagine giving all that up for… this.” Breakdown motioned with his head, “I guess you don’t get to go to any of the galas or fancy parties they throw anymore either?”
Knock Out grimaced, “I do go to parties… but they’re not exactly populated by those who would be considered elite. Some of the guests are… but again those are the ones that are in a similar situation as me.”
“I’d probably prefer those kinds of parties… most of the elite class generally don’t like my type. Well unless they’re paying to see me kill someone. Then they like me just fine.” Breakdown continued, “I’m sorry I was hostile earlier. I have a lot of resentment built up over past experiences with elite bots.”
“Don’t let it bother you.” Knock Out replied, “So… what do you do in your spare time when you’re not at the Arena?”
Breakdown snorted, “There’s not really any time I’m not at the Arena. If I have any down time I’m either sleeping or training.” Breakdown said, “I wish I had time to go out… or do anything other than train.”
Knock Out was getting ready to reply when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. He could tell from the lilting, self-confident step that it was his nemesis Crash. Knock Out’s entire body tensed with anxiety as Crash entered the room followed by a small entourage of lesser interns.
Crash smiled smugly at Knock Out as he stepped into the room, “Ah so you are still among the living. I hadn’t heard from you so I assumed the worst.”
“What do you want, Crash?” Knock Out frowned, “I don’t need your assistance.”
“Well obviously you don’t. If you did you would have called.” Crash said and looked around the room, “I’m just here to check up on your progress. I am the senior intern after all.”
“Did you have to bring your cronies along with you?” Knock Out hissed.
“I have no control over where my associates go. It’s not my fault that they too had a morbid curiosity to see if your new patient crushed your head.” Crash replied, “But enough about them… how are you doing, Knock Out? Are you coping with your new assignment? I’m sure it must have been a dreadful shock when you realized you’d been volunteered.”
“I got over it.” Knock Out said, “So did you just come here to gloat over how you managed to get all the other interns to lie for you?”
“No one lied for me. We were all genuinely afraid to work with Breakdown.” Crash replied and motioned to Breakdown, “Just look at him. What are the chances of a bot of my size being able to fend off an attack?”
Breakdown glared at Crash in silence. The distain that Crash displayed towards Knock Out was so strong it was almost tangible. Until now Breakdown had never seen a worker class bot display the same blatant superciliousness that he despised in the elite class.
“But yet you’re here now.” Knock Out folded his arms, “It’s simply amazing how your fear is so fleeting.”
“Well it’s obvious he’s no danger at the moment. If he was, you’d be dead.” Crash leered, “Or are you only still among us because those restraints held?”
“I think you should leave, Crash.” Knock Out said.
Crash’s pleasant expression slowly twisted into a dark frown, “I’ll leave when I’m ready to leave, Knock Out. You really need to learn your place.”
Knock Out clenched his fists but said nothing as Crash pushed past him and walked over to Breakdown's bedside. Breakdown obliged the handsome senior intern with an annoyed scowl as Crash inspected Knock Out's work.
Crash smiled pleasantly at the captive gladiator, “Well everything seems to be in place. So... your name is Breakdown right?”
Breakdown narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Crash, “Yes.”
“Are you satisfied with Knock Out's performance? I only ask because there have been complaints about him in the past. After so many reports… one tends to grow concerned.” Crash said and casted a disparaging look over his shoulder at Knock Out, “On numerous occasions he’s been accused of having poor bedside manner, a short-temper and generally being a terrible excuse for a medical officer in training.”
Crash flashed his most pleasant smile at Breakdown, “If he’s been mistreating you in any way I'll have him removed immediately. After all the comfort of the patient is of the utmost importance.”
Breakdown glanced over to where Knock Out was standing with his back towards them. He could tell that Crash had done this before and just like all of the other times, Knock Out just had to stand there and take it.
Breakdown scowled at Crash, “You're actually making me more uncomfortable than he has. I think you should leave like he asked.”
The entire room was taken aback by Breakdown's words. Knock Out, who had been standing quietly where Crash had left him, looked over at Breakdown in surprise. After their rocky start the other day, Breakdown was the last bot that he expected to come to his defense.
Crash sneered at Breakdown and then crossed over to where Knock Out was standing, “Well it would seem you've recruited yourself an ally, Knock Out. I wouldn't think someone with your demeanor could charm anyone.”
“Why can't you just accept that I'm just as good of a medical bot as you, Crash?” Knock Out growled, “You've been harassing me non-stop for kilocycles... isn't it obvious by now that I'm just trying to do my job?”
Crash turns on Knock Out with a look of utter disgust. His words dripped hatred, “How dare you say such a thing. You will NEVER be as good of a medical bot as me. You are nothing but a bumbling, incompetent fraud.”
The other interns begin to make noises of agreement. Crash smiled at seeing how uncomfortable his little entourage was making Knock Out.
“I have no idea why you haven’t been expelled yet. You're nothing but a liability. Even the senior staff hate the fact that you’re still here after twelve kilocycles.” Crash hissed, “You should hear them talk about you behind your back. “
“That's what really gets you hot doesn't it, Crash? The fact that I'm here and you can't do a damn thing about it even though you're the all powerful senior intern.” Knock Out said defiantly.
“Don't push your luck with me, Knock Out. I will see you expelled one day.” Crash's cobalt eyes gleamed wickedly, “I may not be the one who causes it... but I promise I will be there when it happens. There is no way in Primus' name that you will EVER become a full Medical Officer with the amount of mistakes you've made.”
The sheer malice behind Crash's words made Knock Out's bravado falter slightly and he took a step back, “Everyone makes mistakes. Even you've made mistakes, Crash.”
Crash smiled evilly, “Not nearly as many as you... and I've been at this a lot longer.” He leaned closer to Knock Out so that they were eye to eye, “You're only here because of your Senate connections. You've never deserved to be here. Eventually your luck is going to run out and there will be no one left to vouch for you. On that day everyone will see you for what you are... elite gutter trash.”
Crash turned on his heels and began to walk away with his small group of fellow interns in tow, “I'll drop by in a few days to see if your little gladiator friend has changed his mind. Surely your charm will have worn off by then.”
Knock Out clenched his teeth in frustration but said nothing as Crash stalked off. Once they were alone, Breakdown spoke up again.
“Are you okay?”
”Am I okay?” Knock Out let out a small incredulous laugh, “Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?”
“I'm being serious. What just happened... that wasn't right.”
“I’m fine.” He replied with a sigh, “You really shouldn’t have stood up for me back there. Crash is not someone you want as your enemy.”
Breakdown frowned, “The guy is a jerk. Besides, I owe you one for saving me.”
Knock Out’s face was serious as he turned to Breakdown, “You don’t owe me anything for saving your life. I was doing my job.” He said, “Crash is my problem… not yours. The last thing I want is for you to end up on his list of bots to hate.”
“So you wanted me to just lay here and let him humiliate you?”
“I just don’t want things to get more complicated than they already are.” Knock Out continued, “Crash is VERY well liked by everyone and because of that he has a lot of clout with the senior staff. It’s bad enough that he makes my life a living hell… I’d hate to see him single you out.”
Breakdown snorted, “I’m not afraid of that pompous medical bot. I’ve crushed more intimidating things than him with my bare hands. I’d like to see him try to make my life difficult.”
Knock Out couldn’t help but be flattered at the anger that Breakdown seemed to be displaying on his behalf. It was kind of nice to have someone on his side for once. Especially someone as powerful and menacing as Breakdown.
“Be careful what you wish for.” Knock Out said and crossed over to Breakdown’s bedside, “Then again I’d like to see it too… perhaps there would be one less medical bot around afterwards.” He said with a smile.
Breakdown looked up at Knock Out, “Yeah. So… Is he always like that?”
“No. Usually he’s worse.” Knock Out replied, “I’m sure we’ll get a second dose of his special brand of nasty when he comes back.”
Breakdown frowned. He had forgotten that Crash had promised to pay them another visit later on in the week, “Why don’t you do something about it? I’d do something… but I’m kind of stuck right now.”
Knock Out raised an eyebrow, “I hope you’re not suggesting I actually fight him…”
“Get Commander Ratchet involved. Tell him what Crash did… Yeah… tell him that he made me uncomfortable and it’s not good for my condition.” Breakdown said.
“Did he really make you uncomfortable? Or were you just saying that to annoy him?”
“I just hate it when bots talk about me like I’m not in the room.” Breakdown huffed, “I get enough of that at the Arena.”
“Well I can mention it to Commander Ratchet but I’m not exactly the favorite intern around here.” Knock Out shrugged, “He might just tell me to deal with it like he always does.”
“Make it sound like you fear for my life. You said that I’m getting better… say that it stressed me out.” Breakdown said, “He’s a reasonable bot. Besides… if Crash comes back in here I might figure out a way to get out of these bonds and wipe that smirk off his face.”
“Again… that would be something I’d love to see.” Knock Out said with a wicked smile, “Okay I’ll go have a talk with Commander Ratchet. I’ll be back soon.”
“And if he doesn’t believe you… just have him come talk to me.” Breakdown replied.
Ratchet was standing outside of his office when Knock Out arrived. He was talking to a small group of new interns.
Upon seeing Knock Out approaching, Ratchet turned, “Ah… and here is one of our current interns. This is Knock Out. He’s been part of our program for a little over ten kilocycles now.”
Knock Out regarded the interns with a half-hearted smile and then turned to Commander Ratchet, “Commander, can I have a word in your office? It’s important.”
A concerned expression crossed Ratchet’s face, “Has something happened to Breakdown?”
“No he’s fine for the moment… but this does concern him. I’d rather not talk about it out here in front of the new interns.” Knock Out replied.
“Oh. But of course.” Ratchet turned to the small group of interns, “You are all dismissed. I’ll catch up with you later.”
After the interns had dispersed, Ratchet waved Knock Out into his office and closed the door. The senior medical officer sat down and leaned forward on his desk, “So what's the problem, Knock Out? I assumed all was well. Crash told me he hadn't heard from you yet.”
Knock Out sat down, “Yeah... actually that's part of the problem. I came to formally request that Crash be removed from assisting me with Breakdown.”
Ratchet heaved a huge sigh. He was getting tired of this ongoing feud between his top student and Knock Out. His blue eyes belied his irritation at having to deal with it once again, “As senior intern, Crash is your supervisor. I hope that you have a very good reason for requesting his removal. If not, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to deny your request.”
“His presence is endangering the well being of my patient.” Knock Out said calmly, “A few minutes ago he barged into the isolation ward with several of his fellow interns and proceeded to berate me mercilessly in front of Breakdown. I’m used to it… but his behavior upset Breakdown. It was uncalled for and very unprofessional. After this brief encounter Breakdown's stress levels went absolutely off the chart.”
“And what exactly was he berating you for?” Ratchet asked, “No offense... but the reason why Crash was chosen as supervisor over all the interns is because he's a model student. If he felt the need to speak to you in a disciplinary manner it probably was justified.”
Knock Out bristled at Ratchet taking Crash's side once more. He grimaced and tried to remain calm, “I suppose it's normal protocol to refer to your subordinates as ‘elite gutter trash’ as well?”
Ratchet's expression darkened, “He said that to you in front of a patient?”
“Among other humiliating things.” Knock Out said, “He then tried to get Breakdown to lie about my performance as his caregiver. Thankfully Breakdown has a lot more integrity than Crash.”
“And Breakdown can verify your story?” Ratchet asked and leaned back in his chair.
“Breakdown is the one who told me to report Crash's behavior to you.” Knock Out replied flatly, “Like I said... I was going to ignore it like I usually do but now it's affecting my patient. Breakdown was very upset... so upset that I fear for Crash's life if he drops in unexpectedly again.”
“Well if what you say is true... that type of behavior is unacceptable.” Ratchet shook his head, “I will remove Crash as your immediate supervisor for now and warn him to stay clear of the isolation ward.”
“Thank you, Commander.” Knock Out said, “It's really for the best.”
“I'm afraid that I still need to assign a supervisor for you.” Ratchet replied, “You will need to report to someone if something goes wrong.”
“Can I report directly to you?”
Ratchet sighed. He wasn't looking forward to having to spend more time with his least favorite pupil, “I suppose that would be acceptable.”
“Breakdown will be glad to hear this.” Knock Out said and stood, “Thanks again for your help, Commander.”
“I see that you and Breakdown have developed quite the repertoire since yesterday.” Ratchet said, “When I left you weren’t exactly on speaking terms.”
Knock Out smiled slightly, “He’s had some bad experiences with bots that look like me in the past. It’s taken some effort but I think he’s starting to realize I’m not the enemy.”
“That’s good to hear. A positive relationship between caregiver and patient is key to a speedy recovery.” Ratchet stood, “You’re dismissed. I’ll handle the situation with Crash.”
Knock Out nodded and left the room. A satisfied smile was stretched across his face as he headed back to the isolation ward. He knew that Crash would not be pleased with being blocked from harassing him but for the moment he didn’t care. Thanks to Ratchet’s intervention, Knock Out was just granted a four week vacation from Crash.
Breakdown craned his head as he heard Knock Out enter the room. His battle hardened face looked far less intimidating than it had the previous day, “How did it go?”
Knock Out smiled widely, “It worked! We are Crash-free for the rest of your recovery!”
Breakdown grunted, “Good.”
“Crash is going to be livid… but there’s nothing he can do about it. Commander Ratchet’s say is final.” Knock Out said and walked over to Breakdown’s bedside, “He was going to brush me off again but as soon as I mentioned that Crash was bothering you he caved.”
“Told you so.” Breakdown afforded himself a small smile, “You really shouldn’t let bots like Crash get to you. I’ve met bots like that before. He’s all talk.”
“I wish I could believe you.” Knock Out said, “But at least he’s gone for now.”
“And good riddance.”