Chapter Text
Knock Out considered himself a mech not so easily surprised. As a medic - and a Decepticon one at that - he had seen a lot. But nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to learn one morning on the Nemesis. His playful banter with Breakdown, which would have no doubt led to a wonderful interface, was rudely interrupted as the main doors of the medbay swished open.
"Frag..." he hissed. "This better be an emergen--" the rest of the sentence died out as he composed himself in front of the looming figure of the Decepticon warlord.
"Uh...Lord Megatron... May I inquire what brings you here?" Insults and curses about it being way too slagging early in this mudball's orbital cycle for this were left unvocalized. Oh Primus - it was Starscream again wasn't it? He knew he wasn't even aboard the ship but somehow that seeker was involved in every misfortune that befell him lately.
Perhaps he had returned, and attempted to wriggle back in to the Decepticon ranks? Knock Out was bracing himself for orders to go pick up the seeker's pieces from somewhere, when another unpleasant thought sprang to his mind. Surely this wasn't about Knock Out sneaking out to race? A few little drives didn't hurt anyone and he'd been careful not to get caught... but that slagging Soundwave... The medic didn't particularly enjoy the spy's presence, or existence in general. In any case when his lord answered he just hoped it wouldn't be his own shiny freshly buffed aft on the line, whatever this was about.
"It would seem that I'm carrying. I assume the necessary procedures would be in order." The massive gladiator mused, almost nonchalantly, inspecting his claws as the medic stared at him dumbly. Somewhere in the background Breakdown almost dropped something.
"What." The wide-eyed sports car finally managed to blurt out.
"Carrying." The warlord reinforced sternly.
"...What!" Knock Out started panicking, trying to figure out where he could have contracted a hallucination inducing virus.
"Carrying. A sparkling. I'm carrying a sparkling." The silver giant's optic twitched and an annoyed huff emitted from his ventilations. There was a series of crashing and clattering noises as Breakdown fumbled awkwardly with a crate of parts and struggled to pick up the ones he had dropped. Megatron leaned in and stared down at the red mech, baring his sharp denta.
"I assumed - that as a doctor - you'd know what that means, but I might have overestimated your competence."
Oh, Knock Out knew very well what that implied, and was having a hard time deciding if he was horrified over the fact that there existed a mech suicidal enough to have topped the old bucket head, or if he was going to have the weirdest charge build-up in his interface array by the image of it.
In the back Breakdown was giving the two bewildered looks. He just hoped his smaller partner could get his processor together before they both got scrapped. The situation might seem unreal but sadly it didn't make Megatron any less lethal in case he got fragged off.
"I'll... just set everything up then... Knock Out?" the blue mech said, hoping to snap the red sportscar out of it. Luckily that seemed to do it and the medic nodded in acknowledgement.
The medical berth was adjusted for the warlord's frame and he settled his mass on it. As Knock Out prepared to connect to the medical ports Breakdown, who was sorting equipment, froze up for a moment.
"Uh... K.O.?" Breakdown raised his voice and the doctor would have snapped at him if he hadn't looked so lost. "Come here for a click?" The blue con tried to keep himself composed as the warlord narrowed his eyes at him briefly, before turning his gaze elsewhere.
"What is it?" Knock Out hissed. Breakdown glanced nervously to Megatron before speaking up in a hushed tone.
"It's just... was gonna sort your stuff for you but... What do you reckon he meant by...'procedures'?"
Oh. In times like this when his own processor was all over the place he was glad that Breakdown was there to pick up things like this. He eyed the equipment on the table. Quite the standard things, datapads for reference and a couple of different scanners and cords to check the health of a carrying mech. In Breakdown's hands were more tools and pads, for an operation that required more invasive action on the carrier's frame. He was looking at Knock Out with an anxious look on his faceplates.
"...Prepare for everything. We'll see soon enough." He said finally, turning back to return to his lord. Who knew what Megatron would want. For now he willed back what little he had bothered to keep in mind about proper bedside manners. He began hooking up the medical links and data started streaming on his displays. Sure enough the analysis told him that the early stage carrier protocols were active and gestation systems online.
It was so strange, after having gotten used to torn off limbs and gunshot injuries, to analyze such data after so long. He willed himself to turn to his patient.
"So, My Lord, the scans to fully analyze your health will be complete soon..." Knock Outs started but his infamous confidence wavered as the former gladiator turned to scowl at him. "Ah. So," he cleared his vocalizer, "did you intend to have me perform an operation today or...?"
Megatron's scowl lessened, his intense optics remaining focused on the doctor, expression unreadable "Termination?" he inquired in a low voice.
The medic nodded."Yes, Lord Megatron."
"No," the massive mech rumbled. "After this I expect you to prepare a check-up schedule to ensure its - or their -" he added thoughtfully, "stable development."