S T A R F O R M E R S

Knock Out finished the text conversation with Jane, but it was several more moments before he could summon the willpower to rise from the chair he'd sunk into hours ago. His habsuite was quiet, most of the lighting dimmed, and this far outside Iacon's city center, only the barest trace of construction sounds filtered through the vents. The hour was late, well into the night cycle, only a few hours off of sunrise.

His spark throbbed, painful and arrhythmic, like a wounded thing trying to escape his body. Alerts and indicators, some critical, peppered his HUD. Damaged orbit, the clinical part of his mind supplied, medic protocols running hot. A severed bond is a type of spark trauma.

But the academic knowledge didn't lessen the sensation of it. Had Cybertronians needed to breathe, Knock Out was not sure he'd have been able to through the burn of it. With unsteady steps he pushed himself toward the entryway where his field kit waited, rifling through it until he pulled out a now-familiar green vial and an injection mechanism.

( ... )