Knock Out whimpered, servos clawing at the leash his collar was attached to with feral desperation as he was dragged roughly to the elevated platform. His weak struggles however , were left unnoticed by the guard as the mech shoved him onto the platform. The noise of the crowd surrounding it rose as he was forced to take his place on 'podium', wolf whistles and jeers reaching his audials, clearly meant to be heard. Armor prickling in shame, Knock Out diverted his gaze elsewhere.
Seven other mechs already stood there, but only one looked up when he was made to stand beside them. Knock Out felt his spark clench at the sight of Breakdown's battered frame and lone golden optic so full of sadness and despair, helplessness and barely restrained rage.
He wanted to reach out to the mech, feel those strong servos wrap securely around his frame, offering the familiar sense of comfort and safety, wanted to feel his bondmate's presence within the bond that had been blocked off by the Autobots that held them captive. But he couldn't as the painful pressure of the shock collar on his tender neck cables reminded him.
He saw Breakdown's optic flash in fury when he caught sight of the barbaric device, but the former wrecker could do no more than clench his dentai and curl his servos into fists.
Knock Out looked away, shame filling his field as his plates clamped down on his protoform, making him seem even smaller. After months in a dark dank cave the state of his finish had completely deteriorated.
His armor had long lost it's deep cherry red hue, replaced by a dirty rusty color. The surface was no longer as smooth as it once was, marred by deep scratches and gashes. The stale energon, thankfully, had been washed off, just in time for the 'ceremony'.
Knock Out knew what that meant and it made his tanks churn and roil as if he were about to purge.
To further cement their victory over the decepticons, each member of Team Prime would be rewarded, given the choice of claiming one deception officer.
It was a well-known fact that warframes usually made the best carriers as their large size and sturdy armor were the perfect conditions for sparklings. And what better way for the Autobots to humiliate their fallen enemy but by keeping them as personal slaves and carriers for their offspring?
Knock Out was not a warframe, but his armor was still sturdier than most bots'... and he was a 'Con, the CMO of Megatron himself.
Speaking of which...
His lord and master stood at the very beginning of the line they were made to stand in. His armor was in no better shape than Knock Out's, maybe even worse in fact.
There was barely anything left of his spiked shoulder pauldrons and like Knock Out's his playing was littered with markings, signaling multiple past beatings.
Despite knowing what was coming, the warlord stood tall, his optics alight with rage and a disgusted sneer on his faceplates. But Knock Out could tell beyond the facade of defiance, Megatron was distressed. He like all of them understood the hopelessness of their situation and some small part of him was frightened, terrified even .
Soundwave stood next in line after Megatron. Knock Out watched as one of the guards approached and tore of his visor to the delighted jeering of the crowd to throw it to the 'con's feet where it promptly shattered to thousands of pieces. The silent mech didn't even flinch, if his violet optics weren't focused on the shards at his pedes it would even have seemed as though he did not notice the removal of his mask.
The Autobots soon got bored of the apparent lack of reaction, but the decepticons, who were very familiar with the silent mech, knew better. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.
Soundwave's frame shook, the faintest of trembles traveling over his plating as he stared at his destroyed mask as if he couldn't believe it was gone. The silent 'con hated showing his face and the medic could tell that it was taking all of Soundwave's strength not to cover his faceplate with his servos.
Starscream stood next. Unlike Megatron and Soundwave's his distress was far more visible. The clawed digits kept flexing in their restraints, his wings were held low and pressed firmly against his back and his whole frame was hunched over, as if he wanted to make himself invisible. When the guard passed him so he could stand behind the restrained 'cons, the seeker flinched back causing the crowd to roar in laughter. The poor flier's field colored with shame.
Beside him Shockwave twitched, his E.M field withdrawing even more than it usually was. The only signs that the scientist was in any state of distress were the dimness of his single optic and the tense way he held himself. Nevertheless he watched the jeering crowd and even though he had no face the disdain he held for them was obvious.
Beside the scientist Airachnid hissed, silver fangs glinting in the light as she glowered at the crowd, her spidery appendages lifting in a threatening manner, or at least what was left of them. The blades had been cut off and the rest locked in a stasis cuff similar to the one locked over Starscream and Dreadwing's wings.
Knock Out couldn't help but wince at the sight. There was no ounce of pity for the femme in his entire frame, but he was first of all a medic and he could tell by first glance that the deed was done clumsily. Wires hung from the ends in a tangled mess, occasionally sparking and there were patches of dried energon where the lines had been crudely sealed.
Knowing the Autobots, they wouldn't give her any pain dampeners. It must've hurt.
As for Dreadwing, the seeker held himself stoically, much like his master, helm high and his optics bright with controlled anger and contempt, servos curled into fists where they were bound together by the stasis cuffs.
The movement in the crowd caught his attention as the Autobots shifted to the sides, creating a wide walkway. Knock Out felt his lines run cold as he realized that this was it.
Eight figures were walking towards them and he didn't have to look closely to realize who they were. Involuntarily he took a step backwards only to be shoved back by the guard to the great glee of the audience. He knew they were enjoying the decepticons' fear, but he couldn't bring himself to care, optics wildly seeking out his mate.
He didn't- couldn't notice that Starscream was now on the ground, tackled and successfully pinned by a guard, that Dreadwing stiffened beside him, that Shockwave's antennae abruptly canted back.
Minutes seemed to pass like ages and then they were standing there, in a line like their captives. The claiming was about to begin.
Suddenly Arcee stalked forward, her servo grasping the chain connected to Airachnid's collar. The black femme only just managed to keep her footing as she was roughly pulled toward her long time foe. Energon dripped from the corner of black lipplates.
Knock Out saw Arcee pull the femme closer, saw her whisper something to her captive, witnessed how Airachnid's helm lurched to the side from the heavy blow she was dealt.
With growing horror he noticed that not one member of Team Prime seemed to be even remotely bothered by the unwarranted violence.
Not waiting for Airachnid to recover, the two wheeler pulled her off the stage, disappearing into the crowd.
The next was the scout. The medic felt a small glimmer of hope as he saw hesitance in the yellow bot's movements, but the feeling was soon quenched as Bumblebee gently, but firmly took Soundwave's chain into his servo.
The TIC didn't even try to fight it as he was led off the platform.
Now there was six of them left. Knock Out dreaded the moment he would be chosen. That would be the end. From that moment he would never be free, he would never be able to race and he would never see Breakdown ever again. He would be imprisoned alone with a cruel master for eternity.
He studied the emotionless faces, the hard blue optics, wondering which one of these monsters would he be sentenced with.
After Bumblebee had successfully made his way off the stage with his chosen slave in tow, Ratchet stepped forward. He seemed to consider the mechs in front of him, before venting a heavy sigh and taking Shockwave's chain.
The deception scientist looked up, his dim optics meeting teal ones. During that single second an entire conversation seemed to pass between the new master and slave before the old medic signaled for them to leave the stage.
Ratchet hadn't even reached the last step before Smokescreen bounced forward, obviously more than excited at the prospect of a personal toy.
Knock Out kept his optics locked on his pedes and just waited for the rookie to pick and leave.
The shift in his collar and the jingling of a chain brought him back to reality and he looked up, shocked black and red optics fixating on blue ones that were alight with cruel anticipation. Even with the blocked bond he could feel the sudden spike of rage, more intense than ever before, in Breakdown.
He tried to resist as the rookie pulled him towards himself, too weak to put up much of a fight. The servo clasping his chain came up to caress his cheek plate and he felt an unwelcome shiver run down his spine as the other came up to paw at his waist.
"I'm going to have so much fun with you" Smokescreen purred, his voice almost drowned out by the collective wolf whistles and jeering of the crowd.
A sudden enraged yell tore the rookie's attention away from his prize. Breakdown had torn away from the line, golden optics alight with the desire to kill as he lunged for the mech assaulting his bonded.
But before he could reach them, a giant green wrecking ball came crashing down on the blue mech and sending him to the ground.
"Breakdown!" Knock Out yelled, cold horror seizing his spark as he tried to run to his spark mate, only to be held back by Smokescreen. "BREAKDOWN!!"
He watched and could do nothing as Breakdown coughed up energon before being roughly hauled up by Bulkhead.
The collar clamping tightly around his throat and he gagged, turning to see Smokescreen already leaving and pulling him along.
Knock Out tried to fight, but he was fighting a losing battle. The last thing he saw of his mate was the Autobot wrecker holding him elevated in some kind of hold and then the crowd closed in around him.