[ti]Flashback[/ti]Welcome To The Show [ Closed | Knockout ]

[Breakdown]

     He'd seen this reaction from others before- back on the front lines. Out there it was 'drop and fire', where mechs were ordered to the front lines and expected to risk their lives for the faction's cause. There was no training or introductions out there. Either you lived or you didn't. 

     Breakdown looked over at Knock Out as he lay in recharge. There he was, snuggled in on his berth and when he came out of it he would be out there in a world he'd never been before. Breakdown couldn't blame the mech for his behavior, really. It was more expected than anything else, especialyl considering the cozy little comfort zone he had been perched in for who knew how long.

     That didn't make it any less irritating. 

     Then there was the other side of it. The medic would have to do his job out there and try to stay focused on that, and it would be up to Breakdown to make sure his back was watched. Knock Out thought he had it hard? It was Breakdown's job to get him back to base in one piece. The medic had no idea the burden that had been put on his shoulders, but here he was, running around the tower like some spoiled sparkling who thought that playing these games and fussing around would get him his way. If they were gonna die out there, Breakdown was definitely going to make sure it wasn't his fault. Knock Out was going to have to get himself together and quick. Hopefully much faster than it took for him to figure out his designation ( which Breakdown already knew had just been a game to the medic out of some twisted attempt to get under his shell ). 

     He glanced over at Knock Out as he shifted on the berth. Alright, he had to admit that Knock Out didn't seem so bad... when he was in recharge, at least. Maybe he could do this? Keep from throwing him in the way of a blast cannon, that is. When the medic rolled back over to face him Breakdown crossed his arms then quickly glanced away into space again. He didn't need as much recharge as most, which was a good thing considering he had to stay up and make sure Knock Out didn't go charging out of the room again the moment he thought he had the all clear.

     So far so good, because the moment the sunlight started to come in through the window? Breakdown made his way over to Knock Out and whacked the side of his fist against the berth.

     "Time to wake up. I'm sure ya got prep work to do."

[Knock Out]

Knock Out heard movement headed his way, and would close his optics tighter - as if it'd stop what was about to happen. He hadn't expected Breakdown to come over the moment there was light outside!  

Hell, Knock Out had expected Breakdown to actually recharge – which hadn't happened, much to his dismay. The smack of the bigger mechs fist on the side of the berth jolted Knock Out, making him jump – and he'd growl in frustration and glare up at Breakdown in tired, angry defiance. 

“You need to learn about a thing called manners, Brakelight.” He grumbled sleepily, not budging or making any motions of moving from where he lay. 

As tired as he was, his processor was already working out ways to avoid going out onto the front lines today. The lack of recharge couldn't be used as an excuse – Breakdown hadn't slept either, and so would no doubt use that against Knock Out's argument. 

Wait. Prep work.

Breakdown surely didn't know what 'prep work' needed to be done by the Medic, meaning Knock Out could flub some stuff and go ridiculously slow in finding the things he needed for today. Could he take all day doing it? Probably not – but any time wasted in here was time that he didn't have to spend out there.

“And, for your information, I've been awake this entire time...” He'd add with a groan – just on the offchance that there was some protocol he didn't know about wherein Medics that'd had no sleep didn't have to go onto the front lines and put their lives in danger. If anything, it'd hopefully make Breakdown realize that he just got schooled – if he didn't notice that Knock Out hadn't really been asleep? The lack of attention to detail? Well, what hope did he have out on the field?

“First I'll need to clean myself off... I'm still covered in yesterdays filth; plus it'll make me more awake and alert for our fun filled cycle, I'm sure.” He added dryly, just for good measure - just incase Breakdown was opposed to the Medic taking a 'quick' shower to clean himself off.

With sluggish movements, he'd pull himself to a sit. He'd gone many cycles without recharge before, that was nothing new. But he was playing this up as the worst thing ever – how could he possibly be expected to go out and save lives if he could barely function?

After a moment, he'd swing his legs around and stand up, then would shuffle toward the small decontamination shower at the far side of the room.

“I shan't be long. I do - after all, have to prep, like you said...” He hummed before turning a few of the dials on the wall. A pleasant smelling liquid would start to disperse, followed by water.

Time to make sure he was meticulously clean and scrubbed down.

This would take a while. Which was exactly what he wanted.

[Breakdown]

     Breakdown wasn't one who was bothered by dirty looks from others, but that 'I haven't slept and I wish looks could kill' one that he got from Knock Out? Yeah, it had been a little unnerving. Not that it was an expression that would show up on his face, just a thought in his processor that would turn a couple of times. After he had definitely responded to the wake up call and remained in the berth, there was a part of him that just wished Knock Out would stay like that...

     Just to have an excuse to flip the damn thing and send the medic rolling. He'd complain, whine, yell, fuss and throw who knows what words at him, but it would definitely be worth it.

     "I know you've been up the entire time. I was watching you. That ain't my problem... it's your own stupidity." Too bad that he eventually got up, because Breakdown was starting to feel the itch in his digits to do it anyway. Breakdown rolled his optics and looked somewhere else in the room just so he wouldn't be accused of being a peeper or whatever as the medic made his way over to what he assumed was his own personal washrack. The fragrant odor that struck his senses soon after the sound of the water? It almost made him want to hurl up whatever energon hadn't been utilized by his systems yet. 

     "Make sure you're not!" he called out, loud enough that he knew he'd be heard. "The General won't be pleased if he has to come in here and haul ya outta your own washrack!"

     Breakdown knew that a lot of time had passed- not only had it felt like it, but he had been monitoring how long that stupid wash down of his took. He had occupied himself by looking over some of the tools that were in the room, taking note of their locations, trying to figure out what these things were. Most of them looked like torture devices! Not exactly something he'd expect he'd ever deal with, but Knock Out HAD been right about one thing:

     If he were going to be his assistant for this time being, he would have to learn what he could of these tools so he could correctly hand them over should the medic have both servos occupied. Not that Knock Out would teach him any of this, so perhaps he could steal a datapad later that cycle and see if there were some hints to the things he was looking at.

     Maybe he should have paid more attention to the time, because a chunk of it passed without him really noticing until it was too late. There was a ping over his private comm and Breakdown vented. This was the call he hadn't wanted, but he accessed it anyway as he waited to hear the audial full he was sure to get.

     :: WHY IS KNOCK OUT NOT RESPONDING TO MY COMM :: The yelling made a squeal come across his audials that actually hurt. It felt like his processor was rattling.

     :: He's in the washrack, sir.::

     :: FOR HOW LONG?! ::

     :: ... Not very long. :: Breakdown lied, but not like he was going to find out unless Knock Out wanted to open his trap and get his own stupid self in trouble.

     :: For the sake of the fraggin' pits you both are supposed to be on deck to bridge out in a breem! HOW long is this going to take?! ::

     :: I'm unaware, si- :: 

     :: WELL GET HIM OUT OF THERE AND REPORT IN BEFORE I COME DOWN THERE MYSELF! :: The comm ended after that with another high pitched squeal and Breakdown flinched.

     The blue mech grumbled and made his way over to the door of the room the medic had disappeared into forever ago and pounded on it with the side of his fist. "Ya better get outta there soon. The General has been trying to get a hold of you. If you don't hurry up he's going to come down here and haul you out of there himself, which I think would make for a much worse situation. So hurry up." He stepped away then, just in case Knock Out attempted to swing at him with some weird weapon again. 

[Knock Out]

“You were watching me??” He squawked out from inside the wash-rack as it finally seemed to sink in what Breakdown had actually said. He knew Breakdown had cast the occasional glance his way – after all, he'd been watching Breakdown too - to see if he slipped into recharge. He just wanted to call him out on it. He wondered how many times Breakdown had glanced his way while he'd had his optics closed... Eh, he couldn't blame Breakdown for staring – Knock Out was so very easy on the optics after all! It'd be stranger if he hadn't snuck an extra glance or two.

Knock Out heard the second yell from Breakdown about not taking too long, just after he'd switched on the water, but had decided to not pay him anymore attention. He was covered in all kinds of grime and fluids from yesterday, and by his standards? Was a walking hazard. He couldn't possibly save lives while he was essentially contaminated! Not that those on the field probably gave a slag – as long as they were getting some kind of medical attention they probably didn't care what state their Medic was in.

Knock Out cared, though. Which was why he was taking his sweet time making sure that every inch of himself was scrubbed clean. Then, just to make doubly sure he was at an acceptable standard? He'd wash himself again, scrubbing himself down and humming cheerily to himself as he did.

Oooh, was that wax? He'd forgot that was in here! Well, no – he hadn't, but this was a perfect excuse to linger for extra time in the washrack. Now, not only would he be absolutely spotless, but he'd look stunning as well. More stunning than usual, anyway. Breakdown hadn't called him back out yet, and he would take full advantage of that fact.

Unfortunately, someone had noticed that they were late though - even if Breakdown hadn't.

There was a screech over his comm, and the voice was instantly recognizable as the General. Knock Out chose not to pay attention to that, either. Nor the three that followed, despite them becoming more threatening and increasingly more irate each time. It was Breakdown's job to see that Knock Out was where he was supposed to be, and if he wasn't...? Well, Breakdown would just have to be disposed of for not doing his job properly. Tragic, really.

There wasn't a fourth call, and he assumed that'd be the end of it. Sadly, the General had turned his attention onto Breakdown – who would listen and reply. Now it'd only be a matter of time before he was forced out of the washrack.

Thankfully though, Knock Out had spent more than enough time in there to take a moment to himself and think of what his next move would be.

No sooner had Breakdown finished pounding on the door, the door would swing open. Knock Out was spotless, and while he'd rushed the wax job a little to the point that he would know it wasn't good enough? He was shiny and immaculate to anyone else looking at him.

“No need to pound on the door like some sort of savage.” He replied coolly as he made his way over to a workbench to start gathering a few much needed items. While he knew he couldn't carry a whole lot with him, he'd at least need some pain suppressants and mesh just to stabilize any that he ran into while out on the field. “And I know he has. Three times, in fact. Surprised it took him that long to go whining to you.”

Knock Out, by all accounts, looked like he'd resigned himself to the fact he was going out onto the front-lines today. The items he'd gathered he'd put into a small but sturdy case which he'd clicked shut and was now carrying in one servo. His frame was pristine, and he seemed to be in a much better mood now that he had cleaned himself off.

“Well, after you, Boltdown. Lead on! Can't keep them waiting, after all.” He purred, gesturing toward the door incase Breakdown had somehow forgot where it was.

[Breakdown]

     "Watching you because I know what you were up to. I caught your optics a couple times and your pedes flick a different way when you're in recharge than when you're awake. So, contrary to your belief that I wouldn't notice? Sorry. Try a little harder next time."

     He would wait, paying no mind to Knock Out's annoying banter as he went on and on about the General this and the General that. He just made his way over to the door and waited there for him to finish up and gather what he needed. He didn't care so much about the details. He knew what he had to do and he would do his best ( in spite of wishing he could just toss the medic out of the nearest window and forget about it ).

     He dimmed his optics when he was asked to lead.

     Breakdown would have been more than happy to lead the pair along, but that would mean he wouldn't be able to watch the medic's back... and it also meant that the medic could turn the corner somewhere and Breakdown may not be able to see it, which would have him reporting to the general without a Knock Out in tow. While it wouldn't be his fault, he'd hear about it anyway and then the General would probably send him out to hunt down the slippery medic again. That was a waste of time. So, the only option was to make sure Knock out went first so he could steer him in the right direction.

     "As much as I'm sure you'd like to twist away by being behind me..." Breakdown started, ignoring the missed designation again. He didn't care anymore. It was time to work and he could fuss about it again later. "... you aren't about to get away with that. Means you're goin' first so get movin'." Breakdown stepped to the side and motioned with a jerk of his helm for the medic to go. "And don't try any funny moves, because I do remember the way."

     That he did. So while Knock Out went along, anything that seemed to be a test from him starting to veer one way or take the wrong turn had Breakdown clearing his throat in warning and indicating the correct route. No, he was not about to deal with this and Knock Out was not going to have him chasing him around HQ after the fiasco some time before. Breakdown kept close enough so he would be able to reach out and take hold of Knock Out by one of his broad shoulder panels if he tried to scurry off like a glitchmouse dodging a trap.

[Knock Out]

“Oh look, he is observant.” he droned, rolling his optics with an audible exhale of a sigh.

Inwardly, though, he was panicking. This big blue lug paid more attention than he appeared to at first glance – which, yes, that may have been an excellent trait to have for one acting as a bodyguard? It meant that getting the slip on him now was going to be that much harder.

The plan was simple. Breakdown would lead the way, with Knock Out trailing behind and losing him in a corridor somewhere. Only it seemed Breakdown saw right through that, because well – what an obvious plan it was, and the first sentence he spoke made Knock Out's frame tense.

Damn, he was good.

“Funny moves..?” he scoffed “Ah, I would never...” he murmured this, reluctantly stepping forwards and in front of Breakdown as the bigger mech jerked his helm in a motion to get going. Slowly, he would begin to walk – keeping his gaze straight ahead, although his optics would dart quickly trying to find somewhere to run and escape to.

If he could just duck down a corridor before the idiot realized what was happening? He could lose him easily – and unlike his last attempt at escape? This one would actually work. If he broke into a run? He could get out of here quickly without Breakdown being able to follow him for long...

Only Breakdown had other plans it seemed. It was almost like he knew what Knock Out was thinking, and every misstep was met with a cleared throat to get him back on track. Every time he quickened his pace? Breakdown would move with him – almost like he'd never heard of personal space. He was practically Knock Out's shadow as they made their way there, and make their way there they did – Knock Out unable to find a chance at escape the entire time, much to his dismay.

Before he could work out how to get out of there, he found himself in front of the General's office door. He moved in, no thanks to Breakdown practically breathing down his neck – and waited.

The conversation? He didn't hear a lot of it.

Fuzzy static, garbled words - he'd nod in affirmation every so often, he'd tense his frame and looked like he was paying attention to what was being screamed at him. But he was terrified now to the point that he couldn't focus at all – the front lines were no place for someone like him! He was a respectable trauma surgeon, not a common field medic! The word of promotion was in there, Chief Medical Officer - as was the name Megatron - but it wasn't like it even mattered – he wasn't going to survive this. He stood out like a sore thumb and he trusted Breakdown to watch his back about as far as he could throw him.

Which, given the size of him? Well...

The conversation was over almost as soon as it began, and soon they were dismissed. Ordered to make their way to another room where a bridge lay waiting. Everyone else who'd been assigned to go out onto the field had already made their way through, Knock Out and Breakdown being the last due to Knock Out's tactics to delay things – and the Vehicon drones in there grumbled as they finally appeared.

The bridge would lead them away from Kaon, into... well, he wasn't sure where, given he hadn't been listening. Some Outpost somewhere the Autobots clearly had the advantage considering they needed important Medics like himself to go out there and act as cannon fodder!

Stepping toward the swirling vortex of green, Knock Out would then freeze in front of it, clutching the small case of supplies tightly with one servo.

He couldn't bring himself to walk through.

He didn't want to die.

[Breakdown]

     While in the presence of the general, Breakdown had been smart enough to stay several paces behind Knock Out where he was barely seen and certainly not heard, and it was not only because he was not speaking. He was far enough back that no sounds of moving joints or the usual clinks of metal shifting would interrupt what was being said.

     Breakdown had been trying to pay attention in spite of the bitterness he had with this entire situation, but really most of the information was either for Knock Out or was just filler for the larger picture. What was supposed to be directed at him was mostly done indirectly so, through means of either avoiding optic contact entirely or just addressing Knock Out as if he would relay the information to his bodyguard. Breakdown was a lowly piece of cannon fodder, and that was being realized more now than ever. Out in the field he had advantage with his team, while here? He wasn't even given the common courtesy of being told things he should have known. Outside of 'you lunk' and 'you're headed for the pits if he offlines', that is. Okay, Breakdown got that. It was all he really felt he needed to know.

     He wasn't the only one who had received this sort of treatment, either. He had seen the same disregard given to the Vehicons, as if they were mindless drones who served no purposed outside of servitude and cannon fodder. As they walked to where the bridge was waiting on them he made a specific notation to himself not to belittle the Vehicons further. When one would walk down the path they were on, instead shoving them to the side or talking down to them, he would turn to the side and make way for them to allow them to pass without having to alter their own course. He acknowledged those he spotted with a nod before continuing on his way. Whether or not any of it would be noticed he didn't know, nor did he let it affect him. He was doing what he told himself he would. No one deserved being treated like they were created for absolutely no purpose.

     Shame on Decepticons especially for thinking this was right. Not that Breakdown would ever say that outloud or allow it to be on his mind in the case he was ever interrogated by higher officials. He'd heard rumors of tactics far worse than death that were used, and he hoped to never be faced with anything like that.

     Now standing infront of the vortex, Breakdown looked to Knock Out who clearly didn't seem to enjoy what was going on. As much as part of him wanted to take the opportunity to take his much larger pede and squarely kick Knock Out in the aft right through that ground bridge while shouting derogatory obscenities behind him, he knew better. He had to work with the glitch, afterall.

     "Frankly, I don't want to die, so that means you won't, because if I want to come out of this intact I gotta make sure that you do. Self preservation is the best motive for keeping your partner alive, right? So go." Not that he would have a choice, as Breakdown pretty much turned his arm sideways so the broad side of it was planted right to Knock Out's shoulders and he shoved to get the smaller mech on through with him. 

[Knock Out]

When faced with the prospect of a no doubt fairly imminent death - in the form of a giant, swirling green vortex that would lead him to his doom? It certainly put a lot of things into perspective all at once.

Had Knock Out done everything that he'd wanted to do with his time on Cybertron? Sure he'd had a fantastic life with an extravagant lifestyle that most could only dream of, and somehow he'd managed to bullshit his way up through the Decepticon ranks once the war began, keeping himself out of combat and relying on his natural medical skill to remain in the good graces of those above him. But all good things must come to an end, and it seemed like this was going to be the end of the road for him. His luck had finally run out and he knew it.

Medics were being picked off like flies – not just Decepticons, but Autobots too. No medics meant those that were injured had less chance of surviving to fight another day, thus thinning the numbers on each side of this war. Even those that had bodyguards, the chance of them coming back alive and in one piece was low – or so he'd heard – you could have the best bodyguard in Kaon but that wouldn't mean anything against a perfectly aimed shot from a sniper.

Time seemed to freeze then in this moment of fear – it was just him now, alone in the room faced with the ever looming swirl of the Ground Bridge. The light danced around him and offered little comfort. What lay beyond? He didn't know. He didn't want to know. It was the end, nothing more. He realized then that he hadn't done everything he'd wanted to do! He wanted to live to see the end of this damn war and go back to a life of luxury – which after everything he'd done? He so rightly deserved.

The Vehicons that were stationed in here gave each other awkward glances as the cherry-red mech seemed to just stand frozen in awe before the vortex. Hadn't he ever seen a Ground Bridge before? What was this guys deal? C'mon, they had things to do, they couldn't sit around waiting like this!

Time shattered as Break..out.. whatever his name was... began speaking, cutting through the silence that'd closed around Knock Out like a safety blanket.

“I..” was all he managed to stammer as the broad side of the bigger mechs arm was pushed against him – shoving him through the Ground Bridge like it was nothing at all. Breakdown had probably done this thousands of times. Breakdown knew this war. He knew how to fight, he'd been in fights – and was obviously good at what he did or he wouldn't have been tasked to assist Knock Out. But Knock Out heard nothing of what he said. With each reluctant shove forward that he'd stubbornly try to resist? He'd panic more and more as they made their way through, expecting a rocket to greet them on the other side, ending things before they'd even started.

…

What was on the other side was, well... a lot calmer than the over-dramatic scenes of death and horror that'd plagued and crippled Knock Out's processor. A small Decepticon outpost, he didn't recognize the area but it seemed to be on the very outskirts of Iacon. A risky place for a Decepticon outpost, all things considered, but it was safe enough and out the way to the point that it wasn't under constant fire. Makeshift medical berths had hastily been set up, with various troops sprawled across them. Some in better states than others, but all were definitely wounded in one way or another. Some attempt at a triage had been set up, but with how many causalities there were? It was hard to keep track.

Knock Out vented a sigh of relief. There were vehicons patrolling, some higher ranked individuals pouring over maps and reports on makeshift tables. All around them were distant booms of far away gunfire and explosions, but this outpost for now? Was safe. Oh thank Primus. He wasn't going out into some war zone to be shot at! He was going to be stationed here, surrounded by makeshift barriers and walls, surrounded by others who were keeping him safe. Safety in numbers!


Or so he thought.

He'd pull away from Breakdown confidently, starting to make his way over toward the injured that lay sprawled on the berths so he could start to assess the situation and help repair them.

“And what do you think you're doing?” came a gruff voice from someone who had obviously had a very, very long cycle and wasn't in the mood for anything.

“I'm here to help! I was called upon to star-”

“Yeah, no. You're late, both of you.” the much taller mech, who towered even above Breakdown, would tsk sharply, snapping his unimpressed gaze down to the overly shiny Knock Out and then to Breakdown. “Weren't you listening? You are to help bring the wounded from out there-” he'd pause at that, pointing with a heavily armored arm to vaguely gesture in the general direction of, well, danger. “-back here, and if you can't find any wounded or living? Do whatever it is you're good at and bring back parts. Incase you can't tell? We need 'em.” his voice monotone and drone-like, like he shouldn't even have to be explaining this shit to anyone, but given that the cherry-red sparkle seemed to be totally clueless, he might as well save himself the hassle of being asked more idiotic questions.

“Well don't just stand there. Go.”

“W-Wait what? No, I think there's been some kind of mis-”

“GO.”

The panic that'd lifted from Knock Out at his false realization that things were going to be okay, was now back in full force, and he'd stand frozen in place – even despite the General now staring him down with such intensity it was like he was boring a hole through his finish via stare alone.

“Get him out of here before I lose what little remains of my patience.” a snarled warning to Breakdown was made, and the General would turn to get back to bigger, more important matters than a terrified Medic.

It seemed they would be going out into the battlefield after all...

[Breakdown]

None of this was new to Breakdown. The battlefield was what he knew, what he had grown accustomed to, and where he had assumed he would have taken his final breath. It was a peaceful thing to come to the realization of, which is probably why he wasn't at all fearful of it. Being cooped up in the safety of buildings where no one could get to you? Four walls that offered protection- shelter- from the outside world? Now that was something he would never, and could never, get used to. 

For that reason alone, Breakdown knew that he and Knock Out were two very different mechs fromt two very different sides of the spectrum. The very things that made Breakdown uncertain and uncomfortable were just what the doctor ordered (so to speak)  for Knock Out. He knew that the two would never see optic to optic for that reason alone, nevermind the other things that seemed to put them at odds with one another. 

Breakdown had expected that Knock Out would have known what he was supposed to do when he came here. He figured he would have understood the 'retrieval' aspect of this job, but clearly he had either ignored that portion of the instructions or just didn't process it correctly. He would have corrected him, but someone else stepped in to intercept that attempt to tend to the wounded, leaving the cherry red mech to be at the receiving end of a not so friendly lashing. He could have stepped in, though it was not his place to do so and probably would have just made the situation worse, so he instead stood there, watching and listening to the exchange between the larger mech and Knock Out. When he was finally addressed, Breakdown stood at attention and listened attentitively, only to then nod towards the other.

"Yes sir." It was a simple answer to an order; one that did not need elaboration. He looked to Knock Out and nudged him forward, indicating that they should go before he got himself into more trouble. It was a tricky situation to be in and if Knock Out had any instinct of self preservation then he would follow without further hesitation. He transformed, his bulky frame of an alt mode just as squared off and chiseled as his root. He drove ahead some, only to then pause as he commed back to KNock Out and waited on the other to follow.

:: When we get out to the battlefield, I suggest you stay behind me. I'll keep a look out for dangers that may swing our way and you focus on trying to locate the injured. I'll have to keep some paces from you to divert attention from you, but try to stay as calm as possible and pretend that... I dunno... imagine you're int he safety of your medical bay. Let me do the work of watching your back. If you panic something may go wrong so just pretend none of this is here.::

[Knock Out]

Knock Out's world came crashing down around him in an instant. That glimmer – that tiny, minuscule hope that he'd be stationed here to simply look after the injured? Where it was mostly safe? Gone. Snatched away from him by this overly angry General and his short, angry words.

Knock Out had never been spoken to like that before. At least not to the point where he found himself at a loss for words to reply with. Normally he gave as good as he got, snark and sass, a silver tongue and biting word – even to those who outranked him. It was part of what kept him in this position to begin with.

Now he was a stammering, nervous mess. It was so unlike him.

Another squeak escaped him, trying to form words. To counter this. To argue, to plead and to beg that he would be better suited here. He was needed here, he was valuable! He couldn't go out onto the battlefield and out into actual danger! Even with his giant blue lug of a bodyguard, it just made them even more of a target!

The response from Breakdown seemed to be enough to sate the General. He didn't turn back from what he was doing to reply with any vocal response, but that was probably a good thing, given the circumstances. Breakdown had done this before, and the obedience and simple response were enough to show for it. Whether the both of them returned remained to be seen, but it wasn't like the General seemed to care. They'd lost many, what was two more? 

Knock Out was panicking, but thankfully was still frozen in place - meaning he probably wasn't about to turn tail and run off. Not that he'd even know where to go. The bridge had closed behind them and he had no way of calling it back. The nudge from behind made him yelp and he'd stumble forwards, not expecting it – turning quickly to confront Breakdown for even having the nerve.

A sound of transformation. Words over the comm and movement before he could even attempt to argue or try to plead to Breakdown – the only one who would even listen at this point, that he didn't want to do this.

::Imagine I'm in the safety of my medical bay?!::

A snapped response, the fear that laced through his field indicated that it probably was just that talking, but still. How could Breakdown say something so stupid?!

Breakdown began driving, and – thankfully knowing better than to stick around here and probably get shot by his own faction for wasting time, he'd shift into a sleek looking vehicle. It was so obviously apparent he did not fit in here at all, but at least, if anything, his speed would be a benefit should he need to run.

::That's the worst advice I've ever heard! Pretend none of this is here! How can I do that when we're going right into the middle of it all?! You really are stupider than you look!::

Probably wasn't helping. Breakdown was going to be on high alert for well, everything that could cause them harm, and the last thing he probably needed was Knock Out screeching insults at him over the comm but.. he was just so scared that lashing out with sass and anger seemed to be the only thing he had left.

Despite this fear. Despite this lack of wanting to be here at all, he would follow the much bigger Mech as they drove, no doubt, to their death.

[Breakdown]

     Breakdown had several jobs to do while he was out here. He already knew he had to protect Knock Out, so that was a given, and then there was everything that went with that. He knew he was going to have a time with trying to keep Knock Out focused, though for the moment that seemed to be a non issue. As much as he disliked the constant whining that he kept hearing over his comms, it meant that the medic was at least still aware enough to be angry with him.

     That was a start. 

     "Mhm," was his reply to being called stupider than he looked. Primus, this was going to be frustrating. Breakdown continued to drive, knowing that Knock Out was more than capable of keeping in pace with him and not lag behind. He didn't bother to interrupt the other mech as he went on and on with the complaints, choosing to just tune him out while he readied himself for what was coming. He didn't know what they were going to be driving into and he had to be pretty much ready for anything. They could have been going headfirst into a missle for all he knew.

     The other mech had talked a big game about not wanting to do this and refusing to go into the battlefield, but he was so busy yakking that he wasn't even paying attention to where he was being led to. Before the other even had the chance to realize what was happening, Breakdown transformed into his root form and his pedes slid across the disfigured surface below them, kicking up sparks and debris as he went. Once the slid halted he took a step forward and made his way towards a mound of said debris that could have housed anything from scraps of fallen building to those of fallen comrades and stood there to oversee the situation. 

     As was the typical situation, the scene before him was a wasteland. The ground was scarred with shots that missed their intended targets, twisted in ways that were so unconventional and almost painful to look at. The sounds of continued gunfire and blastings and battle cries continued off in the distance, cutting through what would have otherwise been a silent graveyard before them. For one who was not used to such a sight would surely have their internal workings twisted into knots, but for someone like Breakdown- who kept such a cool and calm expression on his faceplate- this was just part of his every day. He was scanning the area for any sign of their own that may have been taken down- offline or otherwise. This was his world, and this is where his skills really shined through. 

     Now it was just a matter of making sure the medic survived in this world as well. At least for the time being.

     "Scans are picking up a few signals just due north of our location," he piped up, not looking at Knock Out but still directing his words to him. "Lets go." He didn't wait, he didn't care about what protests would come, he just needed to get this job started.

     The faster they got through this, the faster they would both be done and no longer in need of each other's company.

[Knock Out]

The lack of real response from Breakdown was… concerning. Knock Out could distract himself with chatter - even if it was an insult hurled back his way, it’d give him something to respond to. To focus on. But the ‘Mhm’ left him with nothing - nothing but the horrible realization that this was actually happening.

That they were driving to their deaths.

In the distance, the sky lit up with gunfire - the popping sounds echoing off the ruined wasteland before them. There were screams, yells, and explosions. Something that Knock Out had been kept safely away from in the Medical Bay, far, far away from all of this. All of this reality. The sounds didn’t stop, and they were driving closer to them.

He drove close to Breakdown, tailing him almost. The fact the bigger mech drove slow was frustrating - it meant that he had to drive at a slower pace than he was used to, but also because it made them easy, slow-moving targets. One well-aimed rocket or well placed shot from a sniper? Game over.

The terrain was grim. The ground scarred and littered with evidence of battle. Blaster marks, twisted metal - rubble and remains. They’d done well to drive the Autobots back from here, but in the process, there was hardly anything left.

The battle cries unnerved him, his attention shifting this way and that, trying to pinpoint where they were coming from. But they were coming from everywhere. Where Breakdown was calm, focused - in his absolute element here, Knock Out was starting to unravel.

But he didn’t have time to focus on that, Breakdown quickly shifted forms and skidding into a gradual walk. He kept moving. Not stopping. Not giving Knock Out a chance to delay things, to plead to turn around and go back the way they came.

A terrified whine. Knock Out shifted forms too, and with hurried steps he would catch up to the bigger mech, walking alongside him, not wanting his back to be targetted. Out here, he felt even smaller than before. Exposed. In the open. Breakdown was there to protect him but he felt like they were being watched from all sides. It was, of course, the fear and paranoia setting in, the reality was probably far tamer. The fighting was elsewhere, they were here to find survivors.

A nervous glance over his left shoulder. Then his right.

How was Breakdown being so calm?! His field was level - Knock Out's a flurried mess of emotion.

“Okay.” a squeaked response, glancing to the other mech - who was utterly focused on what was ahead, rather than sparing him a glance. This was Breakdown’s world, and Knock Out’s demeanor had changed completely. He’d listen, follow, obey. Anything to keep himself alive. Anything to keep himself safe.

Anything to get out of here faster.

[Breakdown]

     Breakdown regretted not fighting more to keep the cherry red mech off the battlefield, if just for the fact that this sort of display would only make them targets. Breakdown was good at keeping his optics out for trouble and scanning for possible enemy assault, but Knock Out was proving to be a distraction- and it wasn't his looks- but rather the whines, squeaks, jittery behavior and sporadic feedback that littered the medic's field. He had been fairly certain that Knock Out had just been pretending to have never been outside of his cozy towers where the battle took place to just save himself from the possibility of scuffing his pretty red paint job, but now that he was out here it was proven confirmation of this.

     This had been a terrible mistake, so that at least made it that they agreed on ONE thing out of all of this.
 
     "You need to keep yourself focused on the task you're here to conduct," Breakdown said firmly. "You're flooding my field and making it difficult to sense trouble." He shook his helm some and grumbled lightly to himself but didn't spare Knock Out even so much as a passing glance. He paused momentarily and scanned their surroundings to ensure they were clear- both of friend and foe- before he continued moving. 

     "And if I can sense it, then so can the opposition. Keeping yourself level helps to mask your presence. You don't know who or what could be nearby, and you're basically opening yourself up to be targeted."

     He only hoped that Knock Out wouldn't snark back at him and just listen, but he wasn't going to hold his breath. Though, he'd been surprised by less likely things before- perhaps the fear of this situation would cause him to just shut up and nod.

[Knock Out]

This was a terrible, terrible mistake.

Knock Out was a surgeon - not a field medic! Why it needed two of them to bring injured back to the small camp was something he was still wrapping his processor around. Then again given the state of the area, finding anyone worth saving was probably a lost cause, hence the need for his skills to bring back parts.

How utterly and horribly morbid.

Up in the safety of his Medical Bay, he never really had to stop and think about where things came from. From offlined soldiers, yes - that was obvious - but to think that they had people scrounging around on battlefields to reclaim and harvest those parts…

In a way, he hoped they did find some injured troops. He could stabilize them before taking them back - which was probably the plan all along - and prove his usefulness that way, then, hopefully? He wouldn’t be sent out here again.

Then again they could both die horribly out here, and…

Breakdown’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he’d flinch - looking up at the big blue mech.

“What?” it took a second for the words to process.

“Trouble? There’s trouble everywhere!” he lamented, trying not to be sassy but he didn’t handle well under stress. The stress of surgery and saving a life was different to this! This was HIS life on the line. He relished in the stress and adrenaline that came with fixing people who were on the brink - but this was different. This was horrible.

His gaze drifted in the direction of more distant explosions, frame still tense - field even more so. He hadn’t noticed Breakdown pause in his steps, and only when he did he notice he wasn’t in the ‘safety’ of the bigger mechs shadow did he stop to cast a panicked glance over his shoulder, only for Breakdown to catch up and keep going a moment later.

“If this was surgery, or some race against the clock to save someone’s spark, I’d be fine. That stress is exhilarating! This? I don’t know how anyone expects to remain calm out here! How the frag do you stay so level?” there was a plea for help in there somewhere.

The fact Breakdown’s field was so entirely calm hadn’t been lost on him. Was it because he was used to this kind of thing? Was it a trained habit? Surely there had to be some trick to it. You don’t go out into something like this the first time and stay levelheaded.

He could focus on other things, imagine he was off somewhere on a swanky vacation sipping high-grade by a warm oil bath, but then he’d be even more distracted and that probably wasn’t a good thing!

So for now, he would continue to inwardly panic.

[Breakdown]

     "I stay level because I don't have the option not to."

     Especially when I have an annoying little mechlet who doesn't know how to keep his voice down so I can focus.

     "And right now you don't have a choice but to do the same. If you don't you're going to get both of us killed." Breakdown looked down at Knock Out from the corner of his optics, only briefly, then returned to scanning the area. His voice remained calm and level. The situation around them wasn't one to take lightly and Knock Out was just slightly losing it. Was this mech really the newest wave of medics that they were supposed to count on? If so, he felt that maybe their fighting was all for nothing since they'd probably all die on the operating table anyway... 

     He cleared his throat.

     There was an explosion nearby, not close enough to disrupt their fields, but enough to hurdle fragments of debris in their direction. Even though he would have been mildly entertained watching the red medic running around and freaking out as his precious paint got dinged and dingy by it, the end results could have proven to be far more dangerous than to just take one for the team. So, Breakdown didn't even bother to warn Knock Out to watch out and just turned around to face the medic and steadied his weapon in one servo while the other wrapped around Knock Out- not touching him, but providing further cover just as the sound of clanks and thuds echoed around them. Breakdown used the bulky frame of his back to keep the other protected from the scraps, ignoring as the annoyances scratched and dinged into him. His optics were looking to the side, not at all focused on Knock Out, since even though they were in this covered position he still needed to make sure they were not going to be snuck up on. He didn't know where that shot had come from, and as more likely as it was that someone was just scattering the field, he didn't want to take any chances.

     Once the sounds had stopped and it went silent around them once more, Breakdown coolly straightened his frame and removed himself as Knock Out's shield to stare down at him, his optics softening in light of the situation they were in, though his face remained stoic. 

     "I really... really need you to stay as calm as you can. I know it's difficult, but I want to make sure you get back to base in one piece, and I can't do it if you're going to carry on like this." He vented and readied his weapon once more in both servos to look off as he spoke again. "Are you alright? Physically. Nothing hit you?"