Footsteps thumped past their hiding place, sounding far too close for comfort. Megatron worked himself further back into the niche he'd discovered in the tunnel wall, his sensory nodes screaming in pain as jagged rock dug into his joints. He couldn't make out his pursuers - if he could see them, chances were they'd be able to see him - but he knew from the flickering of the shadows that they were pacing back and forth in front of the fissure, prowling the tunnels for any sign of him.
Caliber squirmed against his chest, and he rested a hand on the sparkling's back to calm him. They'd come this far together. Just a little farther, and perhaps they'd be out of the Autobots' reach for good. He could only hope they had the strength and fuel reserves to make it that far.
Disgust roiled in Megatron's spark, albeit disgust tangled with fear. He shouldn't be cowering like a scraplet in the dark - he should be using this place as an ambush, bursting out with his cannon armed to mow down his pursuers in a blaze of glory. And if they took him down with them… well, better to die a martyr than to live a coward.
He clenched his jaw and fought back the itch to spring forward and start firing. His life was not the only one on the line. He had his son to protect now… and if keeping Caliber safe meant taking the coward's way out, so be it. His son's life meant far more than his honor now… whatever was left of his honor, at any rate.
"No sign of 'im, Prime!" Jazz's voice rang through their hiding place, so close that he had to be standing right outside the crack in the wall. "Musta snuck out one'a the side exits we missed."
"I thought we blew all the exits to this place up!" Sideswipe retorted, his voice comfortingly faint in comparison. "That was the point of this fraggin' mission - pen him in and herd him towards the main exit so we can scoop him up!"
"This place is a retrorat's nest," Ratchet grumbled, sounding closer but not as close as the saboteur. "My guess is there's some crack in the mountain we missed and he wiggled his way out there."
"Ain't you a ray of sunshine, Doctor Horrible," Sideswipe retorted.
"Don't you start with me, punk," Ratchet growled.
Caliber whimpered softly, shaking against his father's chest. Megatron gave the softest hiss of his vocalizer to shush him, rubbing his back in an effort to soothe him before the Autobots heard the sound and investigated. Thank Primus - if the deity even existed or cared about Cybertronian affairs anymore - that the Autobots were too caught up in their bickering to hear the sparkling's noise of distress.
"Orders, Prime?" Megatron didn't quite recognize that speaker - Mirage, perhaps?
"Do one more sweep of the tunnels," Prime replied. "Go in pairs - I don't want anyone facing Megatron alone, especially if he's cornered and feels he has nowhere left to run. Alert everyone the moment you find a trace of him. If we find no trace, then we assume he escaped and move on."
"Roger, Wilco - I mean Prime," Jazz answered. "We'll find 'im, don't worry. Not a lotta places left for him to go…"
Megatron stilled his fans as the Autobots trooped past his hiding place, not daring to move a servo. Caliber shivered in his arms but held as still as possible, optic shuttered squeezed shut and face tucked against his father's chest. They were in for a long wait… but if they could just hang on until the Autobots returned to their gunship and left, they stood a chance.
Let them find nothing… please. We swept up our footprints, left no refuse or scraps behind… let them find nothing…
Prime's voice nearly made Caliber jump in place, but he bravely held his vocalizer. The Autobot commander didn't stand directly in front of their hiding place, but was close enough that they could hear every word clearly.
"I doubt you can hear me, Megatron," he said, his voice calm and almost friendly. "But if you can… I encourage you to turn yourself in. Let this end. It can't be pleasant for you… and it only prolongs the inevitable. Let Cybertron find the closure it deserves."
And with that, Prime strode deeper into the tunnels, leaving Megatron behind to ponder his words. Had his old foe known he was hiding there and decided to offer him a choice? Or was he just thinking out loud to satisfy his own personality quirks?
Caliber nuzzled more firmly against his chest, and Megatron hugged him closer. They were so close to an escape. They couldn't give up now. Unknown Space lay just beyond this next star system - if they could make it that far…
Caliber knew he should be keeping an optic out for an escape attempt - looking for exits, or for an opportunity to slip away from Tarn and Shockwave and make a break for it. But his CPU was still stumbling over the fact that he was in the presence of the leader of the DJD and his carrier - his carrier - and he couldn't seem to process anything past those facts. He could only dumbly walk along as the two escorted him down a corridor, deeper into whatever lair they'd dragged him to.
My carrier… he survived… all these years I missed him and he was still alive! He didn't have many fond memories of the mech - Shockwave had never been affectionate, and so long as Caliber wasn't actually ill or starving he hadn't troubled himself too much with his care - but his supposed death had still left an ache in his spark that had never quite healed. You were supposed to care about the mechs who created you, weren't you? And you could still miss them even if they hadn't been warm or kind, right?
"You've been quiet," Shockwave noted, turning to regard him. "What are you thinking?"
Caliber hesitated, then blurted the words out that had continued to rattle through his processer. "Where were you all this time, carrier? Where have you been? Why did you never come to find me? Or did you think I was dead too?"
Shockwave's headfins flickered, and Caliber wracked his CPU trying to remember what expression that signified. "The time for our reunion wasn't right. I had to ensure the Decepticon Resistance was well-established before I made contact with you again."
"Resistance?" he repeated.
"Oh dear… you mean to tell me you don't know, young mech?" Tarn asked, his optics flaring in surprise. "I thought for sure your father would have told you. You do visit him still, do you not?"
"Yeah… but he never talked to me about a Resistance. He never even mentioned the Justice Division, or any hint that my carrier was still alive!"
Tarn snorted. "I suppose I see how highly I rate with our beloved leader. Though I'm not offended - he has more pressing matters to worry about."
"As for the Resistance… that was always the plan should the war end in the Autobots' favor." Shockwave returned his attention to their path, leading them on a twisting path through rusted, labyrinthine corridors straight out of one of Orion's favorite video games. "The cause was not to die with Megatron, nor crumble with the Decepticon Empire. Should, for whatever reason, the Autobots defeat us, we were to continue on."
"We were to rebel," Tarn added, his voice rich and vibrant with excitement, gesturing grandly as he walked. "To rise again. To shake off the ashes of defeat and flame with glory in our re-ascension. Megatron's cause will not be snuffed out - it will burn forever, and scorch our enemies off the face of the universe!"
Caliber shuddered at Tarn's words - partly with horror, but partly with wonder at the passion and conviction within them. He had heard stories about the power of Tarn's voice, and he had to wonder whether it was the charisma of his presence or his outlier ability that was making his entire chassis thrill with excitement at his words.
"Tone down the melodrama, Tarn," Shockwave replied crisply, seeming completely unaffected by the larger mech's ecstacy. "The Decepticon Resistance was a contingency plan should the Autobots defeat us. Whatever officers remained in power would retreat and reconvene in designated gathering places beneath Cybertron's surface, and accumulate the resources needed to continue the war - in secret if need be."
Caliber shook his head. "Dad never talked to me about any of this."
"Your father was quite dismissive of the plan," Shockwave informed him. "He was confident that the Annihilator would win the war, and that no contingency plan was required. I judged it necessary to have appropriate backups in place just in case. And after the Annihilator failed and Polyhex and Kaon fell to the Autobots, the backups were set into motion. It took longer than I had estimated to reach this point - the Spiralis Disaster's effects reduced our numbers and resources far more drastically than originally predicted - but we are finally ready to launch our Decepticon Resistance."
Despite technically being a captive to these two mechs, Caliber couldn't suppress a burst of hope. "Is… is the Resistance going to try to free Megatron? Are you going to rescue my father?" He shouldn't be hoping for a jailbreak, he knew his father was guilty of terrible crimes, but still…
Tarn and Shockwave exchanged a long look, and despite one's face being covered and the other not even having a proper face, he decided he didn't like their expressions. There was something they weren't saying aloud, that they were dancing around as if not judging him ready…
"We are not yet to that point," Shockwave replied carefully. "But before the Resistance can begin in earnest, we need something from you, Caliber."
Dread congealed in his tanks at those words. "What… what do you need from me?"
Shockwave led him down a corridor that terminated in a set of heavy doors, their metal pitted and scarred with age. He scanned the ID chip in his violet arm over a scanner, and the doors ground ponderously open, like the gates of a castle in a fantasy movie.
"For you to embrace your destiny," his carrier answered. "For you to follow in your sire's footsteps and lead the Resistance."
Caliber stared as the doors finished opening with a resounding clang. The massive chamber they looked in on was more of a cavern than an actual room, with rough unfinished walls and a ragged ceiling. Stacks of crates lined the walls and were scattered about the floor like the building blocks he and Orion had once played with, some of them broken open and spilling their contents of weapons and ammunition cells on the floor. Mechs slipped between the stacks, their colors and frames only slightly discernable in the dim light, some inspecting crate labels and making notes on datapads while others inspected guns or counted energy cells. There was no chatter from the mechs, no shared conversation, only intense concentration on whatever tasks they were carrying out.
"What… what is this?" Caliber asked.
Tarn gave a liquid chuckle and stepped into the chamber, arms raised over his head. His voice boomed to the far reaches of the room, making every mech present stop what they were doing and swivel their head around to watch.
"My fellow Decepticons!" he thundered, his voice at once enthralling and frightening. "Those of you whom have proven your loyalty to the cause, who remain devoted to the ideals Megatron preached instead of betraying him by falling into the slavery of Autobot asylum! The day has come! Our new leader has risen to take his place at the forefront of our movement, a movement that will shake Cybertron to its foundations and restore faith in the cause once and for all!"
Shockwave gripped Caliber's shoulder and steered him into the chamber. Tarn clapped a hand on his other shoulder and gestured grandly toward the bewildered young mech with his free hand.
"Behold - Caliber, son of Megatron, heir to the Decepticon throne and the new leader of the Decepticon Resistance! All hail Caliber!"
The mechs threw their fists in the air, repeating the chant until it echoed off the ceiling of the chamber. "All hail Caliber! All hail Caliber!"
Shockwave and Tarn turned to face Caliber, still gripping his shoulders. Perhaps they expected him to react with glee or triumph at seeing an army, however small, awaiting his command. But all he felt was a deep and all-consuming horror.
Ravage skidded to a stop at a warehouse on the outskirts of Kaon, mouth hanging open as he vented fast and hard to cool his systems. It had been a long, grueling run, one that twisted through back alleys and rusted sectors in order to avoid detection. And it hadn't helped that he'd been tailed by a bright magenta flier who apparently had no stealth programming whatsoever. But they'd made it without being followed, and if they came out of this with Caliber intact, that was all that mattered.
Orion touched down nearby, transforming to robot mode. "You all right, Fluffy?"
I'm not fluffy, and yes. Just… overheated a bit. Give me a moment and I'll be fine.
Orion looked around. "So this is Kaon. Somehow I imagined it looking creepier."
And what gives you THAT idea?
"Well… it was abandoned for several years, right? And it got hit with fallout from the Spiralis Disaster… I guess I expected it to look more run-down and melted. Like something out of an apocalypse movie."
Ravage snorted. Trust the Autobot youngling to have such a simple view of things. Yes, Kaon had suffered heavy damage during the Annihilator meltdown, and it had lain abandoned for some time after the war had come to a close. But the Decepticons who had asked for asylum from the Autobots - or struck plea deals in exchange for release - had made great strides in restoring the city. Some towers still stood at precarious angles from the acid eating at their foundations, and even the warehouse they had just reached bore stains and burned patches on its ferrocrete walls. But scaffolding enveloped those damaged towers as mechs worked to repair them, and the rumble of construction crews at work rose from various places in the city.
Kaon had a long way to go before it was fully restored… but the city was healing. And Ravage hoped to be able to see it reach its former glory someday. But that was a hope for another time.
I'll give you a proper history lesson later, youngling, Ravage told him. For now, let's find your brother.
Orion nodded. "Are you sure this is the place?"
The scent trail leads here, he replied. Caliber's… and another's.
"Anyone you know?"
Yes. He opted to leave it at that. He would recognize the stench of Tarn anywhere - his unique scent signature was tainted with the char of burned-out transformation cogs - but he felt it best not to let Orion know that little tidbit yet. No sense making the youngster panic.
"So what are we waiting for?" Orion demanded. "Let's go in and rescue him!"
Dial it down, youngling, Ravage ordered. Let me go first. Once I'm sure this isn't a trap, I'll signal you.
Orion growled in frustration but nodded, and hung back as the panther slunk into the warehouse. As he'd expected, the place was empty - whatever this building had once contained had long ago been emptied out or looted. All that remained was a layer of dust and the thin fiber-optic threads of the webs of silicon-spiders.
Ravage lowered his head to the floor, padding back and forth in an effort to pick up the trail again. The dust clogged his olfactory vents, and he had to lift his muzzle and blow air out in a "sneeze" several times to clear them, but his search was soon rewarded by a faint thread of scent… one that followed a trail of disturbed dust, as if someone had left tracks and made an effort to sweep them up.
Amateurs, he thought, and radioed Orion. Come in. The coast is clear, and I have a trail.
Orion burst into the room. "Where is he?!"
Not here, obviously. This warehouse is only an entrance.
"An entrance to what?"
In answer Ravage paused at the point where the trail ended, hooking a claw into a nearly-invisible crack in the floor and pulling. A trapdoor swung open, revealing a set of steep iron stairs.
"Whoa… it's like some secret villain's lair," Orion murmured. "Um… is it safe to go down there?"
No, Ravage replied. You're free to turn back now if you don't feel up to this, Orion. It could be dangerous down here. If you choose to leave, alert your parents and come back with backup of some kind.
Immediately he realized that was the wrong thing to say. Orion drew himself up straight, wings high, optics glowing with a steady, determined light.
"I'm going with you," he insisted. "My brother's down there. I'm not going to just run and abandon him!"
Ravage sighed deeply, regarding the young flier with a mixture of exasperation and pride. He was his father's son, all right - compassionate and determined, and reckless to a fault. Hopefully he'd also inherited his father's enormous lucky streak as well.
Stay close, he ordered. You don't happen to have a weapon, do you?
"Um… no. I didn't think to grab one before coming down here."
No matter. With any luck, we won't need one. If they were truly facing Tarn down here they would definitely need one, but he didn't tell Orion that. If worse came to worse, he'd hold off the tankformer and give the young mech a chance to grab his brother and escape. He just hoped Tarn was down here alone, and hadn't managed to recruit new members for the band of lunatics he called a Justice Division yet.
He padded down the stairs, Orion clumping heavily behind him. The stairs ended in a pitted steel door with a small scanner set in the doorframe. At first glance the door looked to have been unused for centuries… but the scanner looked clean and newly installed, betraying its recent re-use.
"It's locked," Orion groaned.
How observant of you, Ravage noted, and he stood on his hind legs, planting his paws on either side of the scanner. The scanner blinked green once, and the door slid open.
"How did you do that?" Orion demanded.
Just an educated guess, Ravage replied. If Caliber was abducted by Decepticons, it makes sense that a Decepticon ID chip would be needed to open this door. Had it rejected my chip, we would have known that Autobots had taken him and used your ID.
"But… why would Decepticons kidnap Caliber? His parents were Decepticons! Pit, his dad's Megatron! They should be treating him with respect, not dragging him Pit-knows-where!"
Not all Decepticons revere Megatron, Ravage replied as he padded down the corridor, Orion close on his heels. Plenty sought to overthrow him and take his place, and many hated him after the Spiralis Disaster - many of the victims were Decepticons, after all. With Megatron in prison, it's entirely possible some faction of Decepticons wants to take their anger out on Caliber.
"Then let's hurry!" Orion insisted. "Before he gets hurt!"
Ravage was about to tell Orion to have some patience and mute his vocalizer when voices echoed down the corridor. They were faint, but the cadence and rhythm of them were unmistakable, reminding Ravage of the first Decepticon rallies he and Soundwave had attended many vorns ago… the sound of mechs chanting.
"What's going on?" Orion murmured, sounding nervous for the first time.
Nothing good. Ravage bolted ahead, leaving the younger mech to run after him. The corridor twisted and turned, and several times he had to pause at an intersection of halls to sniff out the right path. All the while the chanting grew louder and clearer, sending a shiver through Ravage's internals.
"All hail Caliber! All hail Caliber! All hail Caliber…"
"Ravage… what's going on?" Orion's voice trembled slightly, despite all his attempt at clinging to his youthful bravado. "That doesn't sound like a bunch of 'Cons who hate Megatron."
No… it's something worse. And he led Orion around one last corner.
Orion slipped around the corner… and felt his jaw drop in shock. He had expected to find Caliber in chains, being tortured or beaten by a gang of Decepticon punks. But instead he found a room full of soldiers chanting his name, cheering him on like a lightball team shouting for their star player. Caliber himself was flanked by two fearsome-looking mechs, like bodyguards or henchmechs, and though Orion couldn't see his face from this angle, it wasn't hard to imagine how a young mech might react to that kind of attention.
"All hail Caliber! All hail Caliber!"
"Yes, my friends!" the taller of the henchmechs declared, waving a hand in theatrical fashion. "The son of Megatron has returned to us! And he will lead us to glory once again, and CRUSH those pathetic Autobots who dare to take Cybertron out from under us! We will rise again!"
"All hail Caliber! All hail Caliber!"
The other mech, a violet being with one tan arm and one dark green leg, raised an arm that terminated in a cannon instead of a hand, and the room slowly quieted. "Caliber, step forward. Address your soldiers. Then we shall retire to the war room and discuss our plan of action."
Caliber staggered forward as both mechs released their grips on his shoulders at once, then straightened and regarded the crowd. The Decepticons gazed at him with eager optics and bated fans, awaiting his next words.
Orion would always be the first to defend his brother when mechs started accusing him of following in his father's footsteps… but for one awful moment he feared what would come out of Caliber's vocalizer. For the pulse of a spark, he wondered if perhaps his brother didn't hunger for power after all, if this was the opportunity he'd always longed for - to take his father's place as the leader of the Decepticons.
But the words that emerged from the young mech's vocalizer shattered that fear.
"I don't want this." He turned to face the mech with the mismatched limbs, his expression afraid and desperate. "Carrier, I don't want to lead these mechs. I'm not my father. I'm not going to continue his legacy."
Caliber's carrier - his carrier? - stared at him, headfins pinning back like Ravage's audials when he was annoyed with some antic or other. "You do not know what you are saying, Caliber. This is your destiny, what you were sparked and created for. You are Megatron's heir, and as such you are to continue where your sire left off-"
"I refuse." Caliber set his jaw, frightened but stubborn as he stared down his carrier. "My father told me that mechs were allowed to choose their own destinies. Well, I DON'T choose this!"
The mechs within the chamber began to murmur amongst themselves. Orion didn't have to be the most observant of mechs to sense the tensions rising among them.
"Yes, young Caliber," the taller mech noted with a dark chuckle. "It's a daunting responsibility. But we're confident you'll rise to the challenge."
"No… I won't." Caliber set his shoulders back, his rotors twitching with a fear he was struggling not to show in his face. "Take me home, Carrier. I'm not going to lead your revolution."
His carrier's single optic blazed as he spoke, his tones cold with fury. "I'm afraid, Caliber, that you operate under the delusion that you have a choice in the matter. Tarn, escort him to the war room. Cuffed, if you have to."
The bigger mech - holy slag that was TARN? - nodded and reached out to grab Caliber's arms.
Orion didn't stop to think. He stormed into the room and shoved the cyclopic mech aside, grabbing Caliber's arm.
"Leave my brother alone, you fraggers!"
Caliber stared at him, optics ablaze with shock. Tarn stared down at him with more amusement than anger, while Caliber's carrier pricked his headfins up in interest.
"Orion of Iacon, son of Optimus Prime. This day just got very interesting."
Ravage's tone over the radio was thick with exasperation - you idiot.