TFP- Factionless

_{Part 5/9 of a Transformers: Prime fanfiction based on the events of episode 16 "Operation: Breakdown"}


"What is it, Ratchet?" asked Optimus, crossing the Autobot command centre. Bumblebee and Bulkhead walked alongside him toward the monitors, shoulders seating their respective humans, faceplates muddled with curiosity as they approached the medic.

"I detected an odd transmission in the early hours of the morning," Ratchet began, gesturing a hand importantly. Stretched across the screen behind him was a graphic depicting an audio sample; one whose chaotic tangle of frequencies resembled a digital forest of scrambled information. "I was unable to perform a location scan before it disappeared, but I was able to record it."

Optimus came to a halt beside the medic, raising his optics to the monitor as he gave a single nod of the head. On receiving his consent, Ratchet tapped a key beneath the display. A strange sound burst through the command centre – loud and high-pitched, like the screams of wailing sirens – prompting the humans to clap their hands over their ears. Bumblebee tried to shield Raf from the painful sound, an alarmed tone escaping his vocal processor, but the other Autobots merely stared in perplexity at the monitor. Less than three nanokliks later, the sound cut away – and silence abruptly fell again on the room.

"What was that?" Raf asked, hesitantly uncovering his ears. Bulkhead raised an eyebrow in Ratchet's direction, as Optimus leaned toward the screen for a closer look at the signal. "It was worse than Miko's guitar-playing!"

"Hey!" shot Miko.

For once, Optimus turned a deaf audio toward the humans. "Any theories, Ratchet?" he murmured. Miko sulked in silence as the medic raised a hand to thoughtfully trace the contours of his chin.

"It appears to be some kind of communication," he speculated. "The signal strength is through the roof – but it's just noise. I can't make heads or tails of it. However…I doubt there exists a single piece of Earth technology capable of transmitting on this kind of frequency. My guess is that it's of Decepticon origin."

The commander reflected on his words for a moment, before straightening up and folding his arms. "Perhaps we should ask our resident Decepticon for his thoughts on the matter," he said. He then turned to face the scout, who perked up at once. "Bumblebee-"

"No need to send your errand-bot, Prime – I'm already here."

The Autobots turned as one in response to the slick voice, watching as Knock Out straightened up in the entrance. He had been lounging against its frame, arms folded across his chassis, listening in to the conversation. Bumblebee gave a whine of protest at the nickname as the Decepticon stepped forward into the command centre, but his objection went unheeded. Bulkhead shifted his weight uncomfortably onto one leg, Miko giving a cheery wave in greeting from atop his wide shoulder.

"I was trying to get some rest, when a ghastly noise met my audios and awoke me from recharge," Knock Out sighed, ignoring her completely. Miko glanced curiously at Raf, who shrugged his shoulders. The Decepticon came to a smooth halt a small distance from Bumblebee and Bulkhead, brow furrowing as his optics fell upon the monitors. "Mind telling me what the Pit's going on in here?"

Clearly unimpressed by Knock Out's attitude, Ratchet crossed his arms. "Early this morning, I intercepted an odd transmission on an unknown frequency," he grumbled, grimacing somewhat. "Most likely of Decepticon origin. Given your… expertise in that area, perhaps you can make some sense of it?"

Knock Out didn't seem to hear him. His crimson optics were tracing the graphic displayed on the central screen, lips slightly parted as though taken by complete surprise. The Autobot medic glanced at Optimus, wary of the Decepticon's silence, as Raf similarly studied the monitor with a fascinated expression.

"Does it mean anything to you?" asked the commander.

"It's…a distress beacon," Knock Out replied. His voice was restrained; unnerved. He stepped forward, brushing past Optimus with intrigued optics fixed on the monitor. Ratchet gave a small breath of disbelief – but that, too, went ignored, as Knock Out positioned himself at the keyboard beneath the screens and began to rapidly tap on its surface. "I recognise the encryption algorithm."

"What do you think you're doing?!" Ratchet demanded, watching those sharp fingers flash dangerously across the keyboard with alarmed optics.

"Making some sense of it," the Decepticon replied flatly. "Decoding the message is quite simple, really – or, it would be…if you Autobots weren't using such an antiquated system…"

Knock Out jabbed several more keys, before the graphic depicting the strange transmission suddenly split into two. One image merely showed a chaotic fluctuation of senseless code, while the other portrayed a clear sample of audio data. Despite the Autobots' mutterings behind him, he didn't pause to bask in his own magnificence. The Decepticon hit another key, and the transmission began to play again – this time in the form of a panicked voice that shook him to the core.

"Knock Out! Knock Out – where are you?!"

The recording cut off abruptly, leaving the Autobot command centre in a deathly stillness. Miko could feel the ex-Wrecker tensing beneath her; Bulkhead knew that voice all too well, but had never heard it used in such anxious tones. Optimus frowned in Knock Out's direction, as Bumblebee and Raf exchanged uneasy glances.

"Ratchet," began the commander, his gentle voice puncturing the silence. Knock Out dropped his gaze to the floor, hands gripping the edges of the keyboard so tightly that his fingers left indentations in its surface. "Is there any way to triangulate the origin coordinates of the transmission?"

"Impossible," sniffed the Autobot medic. His voice was significantly quieter than before, as though he felt at least a small inkling of sympathy for the Decepticon. "I already told you; the signal disappeared before I could get a lock on it."

"If you were using more sophisticated technology, you might have been able to trace the signal back to its source," Knock Out spat, rounding on Ratchet. The medics stared each other down, neither wearing a particularly friendly expression on their faceplates. "Breakdown needs my help – and I can't give it to him because your obsolete equipment cannot perform a simple task in under half a cycle."

"Watch your mouth, Decepticon," Ratchet growled, sympathy all but forgotten as he raised an accusing finger. "If you're going to do nothing but gripe and snap at us, then I'd be more than happy to Bridge you out and let you handle MECH on your own. Who knows – you might even learn some manners while trying to convince them to give your partner back."

Knock Out pushed Ratchet hard in the faceplates, catching him off-guard and forcing him to stagger back – but Optimus seized the Autobot medic's shoulder before he could retaliate. Ratchet fell motionless, only able to glower at the Decepticon as the others watched in uneasy silence. He glared right back, fists clenched and ready to swing at the slightest provocation.

"Knock Out," Optimus rumbled, voice firm but oddly calm at the same time. "Perhaps it would be best if you took a cycle or two to cool off outside."

The Decepticon stared fiercely at Ratchet for a moment longer, before flicking his optics upward to not quite meet Optimus' gaze. "I'd be glad to," he uttered, brushing roughly past the medic. He dropped swiftly into vehicle mode, the snarl of his engine momentarily filling the command centre, before flooring his accelerator and charging out into the corridor.

Bumblebee gave a buzzing sigh as the sound of Knock Out's engine gradually grew more distant. On his shoulder, Raf nudged uncertainly at his glasses. "What's his problem?" asked the youngest human.

"Can't you work it out?" Bulkhead murmured, with a slow shake of the head. "His best pal's missing, and he's teamed up with the enemy to try and get him back. How do you think that's gotta make him feel?"

Ratchet shrugged out of Optimus' grip. "That's still no excuse for a foul attitude," the medic shot, as he stooped slightly to inspect the damage to the keyboard.

Gesturing with one hand, the scout let a low hum escape his vocal processor. Raf stared at him in surprise, able to decode what Bumblebee had said a split second before the others. Ratchet faltered, spinning around to gawp at him with astonishment on his faceplates.

"Don't tell me you're on his side?" he demanded.

Bumblebee folded his arms, unflinching at the centre of the Autobots' attentions. I'm not taking sides, he said; but if Raf was in big trouble, I wouldn't know what to do with myself either until he was safe again.