Chapter Text
Cody Burns woke up in a cell to the sound of a child crying.
The cell was nothing like the one back in his dad’s police station on Griffin Rock. There were no bars, no windows, and barely a ceiling or floor. The room was a curved, egg shaped space comprised entirely of a hard, glossy black material that narrowed towards the back end where Cody was.
He pushed himself up, hands brushing against the ruff of his bomber jacket. He was laying on one of three identical beds that jutted out from the place just above where the bottom of the room transitioned into what could be considered walls. The beds were lacking in pillows or blankets; not designed for comfort, as his aching shoulders were indicating to him.
More disturbingly, they were not designed for anyone or anything larger than a child.
Cody brought himself up to a seated position and blearily looked ahead as his eyes adjusted to the dim light.
The crying that had woken him was being produced by a young girl, much smaller than Cody. She had a sweet round face framed by thick curls of red-brown hair, and shocking yellow eyes that were flooded with tears. She seemed to be attempting to collect herself, jamming small fists into her face to rub the at the watery streaks while taking gulping breaths.
Towards the front end of the room there was an oblong, transparent window that sealed off the space. What little light the cell contained was shining through the window, and the hallway outside seemed just as black & foreboding as their bizarre prison. Of more interest was the third individual in their cell; a boy. Perhaps close to Cody’s age, but a head taller, with slim arms & legs indicating a recent growth spurt. Like the girl, he had dark skin and hair.
The boy was half leaning with one arm against his forehead at the window, though not in a relaxing posture at all. Every few seconds, he would pound his free fist against the pane, producing a dull thud that echoed in the chamber and a groan of frustration from his lips. Harsh breath fogged on the glass.
The girl noticed Cody’s movement and gasped softly
“Kel!”
The older boy turned around swiftly; fists raised as though ready for a fight, pale eyes flashing. He had a smattering of red freckles across his face.
“Don’t go near my sister!” the boy, Kel, called out with panicked forcefulness. He side-stepped to put himself between Cody and the girl, reaching slightly behind him to put a firm hand on her shoulder.
The girl, sniffing slightly, peered out from behind her brother and regarded Cody with a steady, curious gaze.
Cody remained seated and held his flat hands up in what he hoped was a peaceful gesture.
“Whoa! Hey, no problem. I’ll stay right here.”
The girl poked her head around Kel’s arm, some of her fear seeming to recede at Cody’s voice. “I’m Eila,” she offered, voice throaty with recent tears. “Who are you?”
Kel hissed and tried to elbow her back. “Eila!”
Cody smiled and tilted his head to the side, blowing a puff of air to fluff his blonde bangs.
“Very nice to meet you, Eila. My name is Cody Burns, from Griffin Rock. And this must be…” his eyes trailed up to Kel, who was looking more and more displeased and exasperated as his sister giggled lightly under Cody’s attention.
“Kel, my brother,” Eila supplied brightly, stepping around in front to greet Cody. She clasped her hands lightly behind her back and leaned forward.
“Great to meet you both,” Cody said, in a manner he hoped was mutually pleasant and not interpreted as aggressive or patronizing. He’d been around enough frightened children (and frightened adults, for that matter) to recognize when stress could broil into a decidedly unproductive situation. Rule number one for any rescue worker is to remain calm and reassure after all.
Kel, for his part, seemed to decide Cody was no threat and returned to his post by the window an eye roll. “Good manners,” he huffed. “For all the good they’ll do you here...”
“You were brought here after us,” chimed in Eila. “You’ve been asleep for hours!”
Cody put his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet. “And where is ‘here’, exactly?”
Eila, now at Cody’s right, stiffened and her face fell. “This is a First Order vessel…” Her voice had become thick with sorrow again.
“They caught us while we were helping a drop ship crew gather supplies,” added Kel. His face, reflected in the window, twisted in anger. “We’d done it hundreds of times before! Just another routine stop. And this one time, those creeps get lucky and jump us?” Kel’s forehead thumped against the glass and his shoulders trembled. “I just… I…”
Eila approached him and wrapped her thin arms around his waist. “Kel…”
Cody stepped towards them slightly, the rubber soles of his hiking boots squealing harshly against the dark floor.
“Hold on. The First Order..?”
“You been living under a rock or something?” Kel cast a sharp look over his shoulder. Eila made a scolding noise and squeezed his middle tighter.
Seeming to wish to placate his sister, Kel sighed and continued. “I guess you have been… ‘Griffin Rock’. Interesting name for a planet.”
Cody knocked his head to the side. “No… Earth. Earth is my planet.” His hands waved slightly as he fumbled to explain, though partly due to increasing stress as his situation sunk in. “Griffin Rock is an island on Earth.” He tried to draw a vaguely circular shape in the air with one finger to indicate a planet.
Kel turned fully around with an eyebrow raised, watching his display with Eila in tow. “Your planet is literally named after dirt? Wow, that’s fun.”
“Kel!” Eila hissed. She let go of his middle and stared up at him with a pout. Seeming admonished again, Kel hung his fists at his side and sighed.
“Sorry… I’m just…” He looked Cody in the eyes. “The First Order attacked our home planet a while ago, burned everything to the ground. My sister and I just barely escaped, and we’ve been living on a refueling station ever since. We had friends there, and new family… but now…”
He trailed off and his head slumped forward.
“The First Order steals away children to use in their army…” Eila continued, she reached out to take Cody’s hand, “No one knows exactly what they do to ‘em. But they have a massive army of powerful soldiers. They’ve conquered hundreds of planets & systems. Caused so much pain.”
Her yellow eyes had gone very wide and her voice had taken on a dull quality, as though she wasn’t entirely present in the moment, in spite of the dark words coming from her mouth.
Kel put his arms around her tiny shoulders. Seeming to come back to herself, she abruptly dropped Cody’s hand and threw herself into her brother’s embrace, sobbing quietly again.
His stomach rapidly dropping, Cody chewed his lip and stepped forward towards the now unoccupied window of the cell. Through the dim glass, he could see a long, dark hallway, lit sparingly from the ceiling. The hall was lined with several egg-shaped windows exactly like his own as far down in either direction Cody could see. Some were empty & barren, but many contained children… human children. Round, sad faces and a few empty palms pressed to the glass, peering out from darkness into the limited light of the hall. Some faces were tear streaked, some were slack and lacking expression altogether, some were twisted with rage.
Cody let out a puff of breath, which condensed on barrier. He tried to focus in on that, attempting to get a grip on himself. Okay, okay. Stay calm. What would dad say in this situation?
Dad…
No. Remain calm. Gather information. Just take it second by second. Cody inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled slowly through pursed lips. Okay, we were in Doc’s lab, trying to investigate where Optimus and the medic had gone via their last coordinates. Things started to go haywire and the world went dark, because…
Because…
Cody’s eyebrows shot up. Because giant metal hands swooped in to protect me, like they always do.
“Hey!” Cody turned around swiftly to the pair of siblings, “When I was brought here, was there anyone else with me? Did the… Those First Order guys? Did they say anything?”
Startled by their cellmate’s sudden outburst, Kel and Eila jolted, but shook their heads a moment later.
“You were alone, Cody,” Kel informed him grimly.
“I don’t think that’s true,” Cody replied, partially to himself. He tossed his head and continued, louder & with a practiced confidence from years of work with his family. “Listen, I’m part of a team of rescue workers back home. We keep the people of Griffin Rock safe from fire, natural disaster, and..” he trailed off slightly and shrugged his shoulders. “... the occasional dinosaur or two.”
Kel and Eila blinked back at him in unison.
“Anyways,” Cody continued, undeterred, “I didn’t get stuck out here alone. I’m sure he’s looking for me.”
“He...?” Eila tilted her head slightly, her voice had that knowing, dull quality again.
“Meg-” Cody stopped suddenly, despite his previous enthusiasm, and considered his next words very carefully. “My grandfather.” He pressed on. “…if there’s someone looking for me; for us, then there’s a chance! Don’t give up! We’re going to get out of here. I’ll rescue you and-“
“Cody.” Eila’s soft voice cut through the room, “You can’t.”
Now it was Kel’s turn to hiss in reprimand down at his sister, but her large eyes just stared directly forward out the window. Cody’s face fell and his hands curled inwards towards his chest.
Is… is that it?
Eila stepped away from her brother and pointed towards the hallway, “But maybe they can.”
In the excitement, Cody had missed the arrival of several new figures.
There were three adults in white armor and frightening helmets that resembled distorted skulls.
“Those are stormtroopers.” Eila supplied. Cody didn’t notice that his lips hadn’t moved.
Two of the troopers were carrying sleek, white & black rifles, large enough or heavy enough that they needed to be held in two hands. The third was pushing a small cart that was topped with chrome medical equipment, mostly scalpels.
Cody’s stomach lurched at the sight.
The cart itself was rather loud, not in the auditory sense, but in the visual – it was white and teal, thereby making it the only non-black & white object within visual range. More important than any of that was a mechanical-looking man who stood a head or so shorter than the stormtroopers on stiff limbs. Black plating covered a body that seemed to be comprised almost entirely of tubes and wires.
“That’s a protocol droid,” Eila whispered again.
The protocol droid was bringing up the rear of the party, on account of him dragging something on a leash composed of a thin red line of light. The stormtroopers paid no mind to the struggles of droid behind them, who continued to haul his cargo forward with two hands.
As they passed by Cody’s window, a familiar safety-orange shape on four silver legs came into view...
“Servo!”
At the sound of his master’s voice, the Cybertronian dog stopped pulling on his restraint and instead ran full force up to the window panel. Curve paws smacked the barrier and Servo’s bleating bark reverberated through the hall.
The sudden change in momentum caused the protocol droid to be dragged sideways into the cell window as well. His rigid torso bouncing painfully next to Servo, who was now up on his hindlegs and desperately pawing at what separated him from the boy, producing a piercing whine.
“Good boy Servo!” Cody called in response, reaching his palms up to meet Servo’s paws. The protocol droid shoved itself up and made to pull the leash taught again. During the motion, Cody caught something deeply important on the droid’s chest. A small, nearly imperceptible symbol; situated just below the pectoral plating.
A familiar shape.
A grim little robotic face with large, stylized eyebrows.
Hope bloomed in Cody Burn’s chest.
“Get that thing under control.” The heavily modulated voice of one of the weapon-carrying stormtroopers broke Cody revere, “Command wants it down in the maintenance bay to be stripped for parts.”
Cody tensed and Servo scratched harder at the glass.
“Apologies, sir.” The protocol droid replied with a polite, British accent that was appropriately servile but just haughty enough to cause the Trooper pushing the cart to make a sneering noise that barely escaped his helmet.
The droid girded his arms at best he could with their apparently limited mobility; attempting to drag Servo away.
Cody curled his hands into fists and pounded at the cell window. Kel and Eila had come up to his sides.
“Hey! HEY!” Cody yelled between the sounds of his fists hitting unyielding glass.
Servo’s paws made a sickening scrape as he was forcibly dragged sideways by the protocol droid, who turned his upper body to follow the Troopers; arms locked behind him bearing against Servo’s resistance.
But Cody’s attention wasn’t on his Mini-Con dog, it was focused squarely on the droid. “Bah-weep-Graaaaagnah wheep ni ni bong!” he yelled through the glass.
There was a pause, and Kel pushed an agonized breath out from between his front teeth.
“Cody, what are you d-“
Servo’s front paws came down on the hallway floor with a gentle thud. His leash had been released and the beam of light flopped down in a coil.
The protocol droid had halted completely, then turned back around to face the children. A change had gone over it, the signature stiff bobbing was absent. The simple act of turning was now fluid & complex; more alive.
There was a light in its eyes that had not been there before.
“Could you…” the droid’s voice was deeper now, richer. The haughtiness was still there but tempered by a note of wonder. “Could you please say that again?”
Cody smiled, placing his hands on his hips. “Bah-weep-Graaaaagnah wheep ni ni bong. The universal greeting.”
“What are you doing?” The stormtrooper from before had aggressively rounded back towards them. Then, several things happened at once.
The protocol droid, who clearly wasn’t a droid at all, snapped his arm back to violently elbow the approaching Trooper across the nose area of his helmet with enough force to send the head piece spinning sideways on the man’s head. He fell back with a grunt of pain and was staggered enough for the ‘droid’ to grab the Trooper’s rifle, and then handily deliver two shots.
The second Trooper took only a moment to train his rifle on the chaos. But he was swiftly knocked off his feet by the freed Servo in a storm of growls and snapping teeth. Servo set his jaws into the offending rifle and flung it across the hall with an snap of his long neck, where it clattered harmlessly off the dark wall.
“Do step back, Fido,” the droid said amicably, and proceeded to blast the stormtrooper Servo had downed in the chest with a bolt of energy the moment the dog hopped away.
The third, who had been pushing the medical cart and did not have the benefit of a drawn rifle, tried to backpedal towards the wall of imprisoned children. He brandished the cart outwards at the sudden scuffle. This was of little help, as the cart wretched itself out of his grip; the shining scalpels plinking to the ground with flashes of light like cutlery from an upended dinner table.
TSCHE-CHU-CHU-CHU-TSCHE
With a hiss of metal and gears easily shifting together, the teal and white medical cart split along hidden seems and folding out into a barrel-bodied little female Mini-Con with bright blue eyes and wheels for feet. She had thick white arms and large fists, which smoothly flew up to deliver an upper cut to her former stormtrooper ‘pilot.’
He fell flat on his back with a groan.
After checking on her fallen foe by kicking his lower legs with a pudgy tire-foot, the Mini-Con whirled over to the hallway door and began busying herself with an access panel. There was a heavy, mechanical clunk from either end of the hall as the doors were locked. Immediately thereafter, the glass window in front of Cody split from unseen lines into a series of curved triangles and were sucked away into the frame with a swish.
They were free.
Servo bounded over the threshold with a yip, rubbing his metallic face into Cody’s chest, short tail bobbing rapidly back and forth.
“Good boy, Servo!” Cody responded, almost automatically, fussing at the dog’s cool, firm ears. The elation at seeing a potential Autobot ally had been doused slightly by the sudden burst of violence.
Kel and Eila had retreated nearly to the back of the cell, despite the open door. Their would-be rescuer stepped forward in front of the entrance, holding the stolen rifle in a shoulder carry.
“Thousands of stellar cycles in this confounding dimension and not a one recognized us as Cybertronian until now!” In one fluid motion, the hand not burdened by a weapon reached up and yanked at his chin line, causing Cody to wince. The “face” of a protocol droid slid up & over the mechanical man’s head and was tossed casually on the floor, nothing but a simple mask. A complex face of Cybertronain metal was exposed with a speaker box mouth, large blue rimmed eyes and a short metallic fringe shooting out from the back of his skull.
He clicked his heels together and waved his free hand in a flourish. “Autobot headmaster; Cogman. At your service, sir.”
“Uh… Hi,” Cody replied after a beat, wrapping his arms around Servo’s thick neck to both comfort himself and ground the animal, who snarled at this invasion of his master’s space. Cody gestured with his chin to the fallen Troopers.
“They’re not… dead… are they?”
“Oh, heavens no!” Cogman declared loudly, waving to the rifle, “Stun only. Although…” He turned his flashing eyes to follow Cody’s and his voice took on a deep, frightening quality. “If you’re wanting a more permanent solution...”
“No! No, that’s… okay. Let’s just… talk. And, um…” he scanned his eyes pointedly across the still locked cells of children along the opposite wall. “Can you open those too?”
“Righto, sir.” Cogman’s dark demeanor dropped instantly and he nodded towards the stout Mini-Con at the hall door. “Oh Nickel, my darling metal dove? Would you be so kind as to-“
“I heard him!” she snapped back. “Verbose sycophant.” She muttered various Cybertronian curses as she fiddled with the control panel. She had a British accent too, but with a coarse, tinny inflection.
Cody made a mental note to ask Heatwave exactly what a few of those phrases actually meant.
Cogman made a presentative gesture with his whole arm, “It delights me to introduce the Decepticon medic, Nickel. Is she not a gem of the rarest degree?”
“My audio receptors are in perfect working order, thank you very much!” added the Mini-Con. “A wonder, considering how much auricular garbage I put up with.”
Cell door swept open one by one. A few frightened faces pushed through, while many held back in whimpering fear.
“Are you sure about this, Cody?” Kel said softly. He had approached, placing a hand on the other boy’s shoulder under the ruff of his bomber jacket. “You know these guys?”
“Well, not exactly,” Cody admitted. “But I know what they are; Cybertronains. Living metal beings from…”
“Earth?” interrupted Kel.
Cody laughed, “No, Cybertron. Sort of earth’s… sister planet?” He shrugged. “I guess?” That’s a long story for another day.
“I wasn’t aware Cybertron had gained a sibling!” Cogman cut in loudly, not liking to be ignored for any length of time. “Then again, I’m no such expert on galactical matters. My skills include functioning as the symbiotic head of other, larger mechanical based lifeforms, and buttling.” Cogman topped this statement off with a shallow bow.
Kel leaned in to whisper in Cody’s ear. “And now he’s the one with a weapon.”
“Oh! How terribly rude of me.” Cogman declared, stepping forward quickly to bend at the waist and shoved the rifle with both hands towards Kel’s face. “Did you want to hold it?”
“NO!” Kel squawked, stumbling backwards.
“Very well.” Cogman straightened up and focused his attention back to Cody. “Perhaps later.”
Cody leaned back, looking back and forth between Cogman and NIckel. Something about Cogman’s recent statement had him on edge.
“Decepticon? But you’re…”
“Ah, you stand in the presence of star-crossed lovers, young master!” Cogman’s arms swept outwards dramatically, weapon and all. “We could not bear to be kept apart by tides and titles of The Great War. So, of course, we stole away together one fateful day through a space bridge.” His arms came back down to his sides, “Unfortunately, it was a badly malfunctioning space bridge. And we wound up in this dimension that has seen neither spark nor side plating of a Cybertronian.”
“And we’ve been passing as simple droids ever since.” Nickel, much more subdued, crossed her arms over her broad chest. “We ran away from the great war of our species, and just dropped into a galaxy full of squishy biologicals who seem to always be at war for one reason or another. Still… it makes it easy to hide.” She glanced pointedly up at Cogman. “Even if this one isn’t much for scanning vehicle modes.”
“A storm I weather gladly by your side.” Cogman concluded.
Nickel rolled her eyes and groaned, but she also smiled, very faintly.
The captured children began slowly spilling out into the hall, seeming to have decided the mad droid wasn’t going to shoot them. Frightened faces darted around the dim space as they packed together in groups of two or more.
Cody, for his part, was silent. His eyes had gone unfocused as he processed this information. So, it’s true. The space bridge didn’t just zap me away. I’m not just lost. I’m a whole dimension away from home… A dimension with some pretty messed up stuff going on if you’re a kid. Or I guess if you’re anyone.
Whoa, this is heavy…
Servo had padded out of Cody’s arms and gone to investigate the siblings. Eila tentatively held out hand for him to sniff.
“Doggy…” she whispered as Servo gently shoved his orange head under her hand and then wriggled in closer to huff around her face and hair. Eila giggled at this, first quietly, then louder into full delighted squeals. Kel reached out and began cautiously petting at Servo’s neck. The dog lacked fur, but there was a pleasant warmth to his metal form.
With her brother momentarily distracted, Eila swept past Cody, rousing the boy from his thoughts. She paused in front of Cogman and then, again slowly, raised a hand up to meet his.
Kel hissed, “Eila-“
Cogman tilted his head, but then bent at the waist to gently took Eila’s tiny palm between his complex, metal fingers and bobbed it up and down lightly. “A pleasure my dear.”
Eila turned back to her brother and smiled. “It’s okay.”
At the sight of a human and Cybertronian exchanging greetings, Cody released a sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding. So long as this was a place where new friends could be made, they’d be okay. “Noble.” He remarked softly to no one in particular.
“Speaking of which,” Cogman said, suddenly full of energy again. He dropped Eila’s hand to place his own on his knee while he bent forward to look Cody in the eye. “What of the war, then? Cybertron still dark I expect? Poor old girl. Last I hear, the 74th gunner regiment was overcome with Scraplets, nasty blighters. Hoping that was only a rumor.”
“Give the boy some air!” groused Nickel, “And why do you expect a human to know about the war effort, even if he did recognize us?”
“Well, I’m not the biggest expect on the specifics,” Cody cut in. “See, I’m from planet earth. A while ago, Optimus Prime stationed a group of Rescue Bots there with me and my family. Sort of a cultural exchange thing.”
“Prime! You’ve met him?” exclaimed Cogman, his free hand smacking loudly against his cheek in delight.
“Rescue Bots?” Nickel murmured, “Thought their kind all got wiped out…”
“Yeah, of course I’ve met him.” Cody smiled, pointedly not dwelling on Nickel’s comment and rhythmically patted Servo’s shoulder area with two flat palms to demonstrate his point. “I know a whole bunch of Autobots, thanks to Optimus.”
Nickel made noise of wonder, though it could have also been disbelief. Maybe jealousy.
“And some Decepticons!” Cody quickly amended, tripping over his tongue a bit. “Not as many, but it’s been easier to make friends since all the fighting stopped.”
Cogman and Nickel both snapped to attention and tilted their heads.
“Oh?” they said in unison.
“Yeah! The Great War is over! By Megatron’s own order.”
There was a pause as the two Cybertronians took in this information. The increasing number of children within the hall began to quietly whisper amongst themselves.
Cogman began slowly. “Well, that’s… wonderful! Absolutely top rate news! Isn’t it my-“
Nickel interrupted with a sharp, barking laugh. “You’ll understand if I’m a little more than skeptical that the gladiator tyrant would call an end to the war he started and leave Autobots, along with biological lifeforms, around to tell the tale.”
Cody hesitated. He could feel Kel & Eila’s eyes on him, looking for context on this bizarre situation and conversation in which he had gotten himself. How much information was safe to give out to this trigger-happy Autobot and a small, but surely dangerous, Decpeticon; life partners or not?
But if I don’t say anything, I might never find him, and then we’ll never get home.
Servo looked up at his boy and whined plaintively. Eila tugged gently on Cody’s jacket sleeve.
It’s gonna be okay.
Cody licked his lips and took a breath. “I know about Megatron because…”
***
The night winds blew over the expansive prairie grasses of Lothal, creating a gently flowing sea of golden green.
Within the tide, a lone fawn-coloured Loth-cat dashed across dry, compacted earth. Anisodactyl feet raised only the tiniest puffs of dust from its paw falls. Large, fluffy ears twirled frontwards and backwards as the creature hunted for prey.
High above the plains, the dark sky stretched long, round, and high; dotted with a million pinpricks of light from uncountable stars floating silently above.
As the Loth-cat continued its hunt, grasslands began to thin and the soil took on a harder, processed quality. The air became thick with the scent of iron, oil, and the refuse from years of unnaturally boring into the crust of the planet.
The Loth-cat slowed into a prowl as it took stock of its surroundings. It had arrived at the outskirts of the Monad Outpost, a once elaborate mining facility that had long since been abandoned and converted into structures of other purposes.
Such history and specifics were of little interest or importance to the small beast. But the unnatural odors and thrum of feet, voices, and bodies emanating from the old docking bay were repugnant and frightening. It curled its round face and wide mouth into a hiss at the unpleasant structure and turned to flee back into the familiar whisper of the chaotic, green wild.
As the Loth-cat made its retreat, it swept by two hooded figures striding through the tall grass. They paid little mind to the animal, if they had even noticed its presence at all, and the Loth-cat didn’t offer them so much as a backwards glance.
It would later run by their craft; a large Resistance transport hauler of dubious working quality, disguised with a slapdash paint job, and hidden within a bluff of spine trees.
Finn and Rose Tico smoothly navigated through the restless crowd of the docking bay-turned-gladiator arena. The pair kept their heads bent forward, but eyes dead ahead; praying that their dark grey cloaks would be nondescript enough and the swarming populous would keep attention minimal.
Rose inched closer to Finn as an armed stormtrooper marched by.
“I’m not scared,” Rose leaned her head into her partner. “See, actually, you’re holding me back. So that I don’t start knocking the teeth out of every First Order creep in this place.”
Finn laughed softly and drew her in as they walked.
“I know, babe. I know…”
Lothal had been in open rebellion against The First Order for years now; the civilian population well remembering their harsh lives under The Empire’s occupation. But recent orders coming directly from the now Chancellor Armitage Hux to exert greater control over the Outer Rim had led to Monad Outpost being violently seized and the old ‘Arena Day’ tradition being resurrected as a means to publicly torment, torture, and execute locals who rose up against their oppressors.
The blood-sport was rapidly attracting attention from neighboring planets and general purpose lowlifes who sought to witness the grizzly spectacle, to earn a profit sending their prized beasts to slaughter prisons-turned-gladiators, or simply conspire to have their own enemies thrown to the pit.
Hence why Finn found himself alongside his beloved companion on this dangerous errand to gather intelligence in the hopes of eventually offering aide.
Though really… Finn thought to himself grimly. It’s us in the Resistance that needs all the help we can get.
With their numbers dwindling, resources stretched thin and General Organa rapidly running out of contacts & allegiances to lean on, times were bleak. Their limited forces were often concentrated at base, with only a few key members (like themselves) able to conduct missions at all.
Rey’s Jedi training continued to progress more by the day under Leia, but lately Rey had been… just so cold & distant. Like she was sad about something she refused to speak about.
She pored over the Jedi texts at night. Finn suspected she didn’t sleep. He often caught her starring off into space, alternating between enraged, devasted, or stone faced. And when pressed, she would either rapidly change the topic, snap with anger, or simply refuse to engage at all. Not that Finn could really blame her, considering the amount of stress they were all under.
Still, something’s up with her…
Rose took a slight lead ahead as they climbed the arena steps and into the spectator seats. They passed by locals alternating between screams of rage and wails of despair as prisoners were trotted out in chains into the sandy pit. Several standout off-worlders within the crowd, however, cheered with glee at the promise of horror to come, loudly demanding that the show begin. Standing high and daunting over the arena was a tall box seat, built recently, given its conspicuous black decor that contrasted with the industrial greens and browns of the repurposed facility. Without seeing inside, Finn knew it was meant to house First Order observers.
Rose looked down on the display below and grimaced under her cloak, fists tightening.
A row above them, two stormtroopers strode through the seating area, their boots seeming to echo louder than the screams of the crowd. “Let’s just find Boolio and get out of here,” she muttered through clenched teeth.
Finn nodded, and Rose pulled her hood down low enough to cover her whole face as she strode down the seating aisle. She seemed to be counting on the cloak and the crowd to muffle her frustrated growl.
Finn followed behind; hands drawn against his body.
Can’t help Rey, can’t help Rose.
Can’t help the people here.
Can’t help anyone.
Finn increased his pace to a light jog to better keep pace with the small woman.
Below in the pit, the fighting had already begun. Stormtroopers paraded snarling, red Gundarks on metal chains at the edges of the sand in a promise of further gore.
The guttural bleat of an unarmed Gotal reverberated through the air as they were stuck in the gut by a loosed beast and went down. The death knell was followed closely by a crescendo of cries from the spectators, with wails of “murderer!” interspersed with screams of ecstatic pleasure from the more blood thirsty witnesses.
Finn caught up to Rose, who was standing frozen at the assigned meeting spot, looking down helplessly into the arena. Assuming she had become overcome by the horror, it took him a few extra seconds to fully process what she was looking at specifically and its implications.
“Oh no.”
Down in the gladiator pit was a form familiar to Finn. He’d seen images of the man in an intelligence briefing provided before being set out on this mission; the green-yellow skin and curved horns of an Ovissian. Their contact, who was supposed to be here amongst the spectators but was instead on the floor of the arena with the prisoners. Boolio.
And he was dying.
Boolio had been struck in the neck by a Gamorrean’s axe, green blood spewing out of the ugly wound as he desperately fled across the arena and away from his attacker. The bright, viscous liquid splattered in arcs and soaked into dark forms on the sand.
The Gamorrean advanced slowly, clearly wanting to draw the affair out. The pig-like man theatrically whirled its axe, snorting & squealing with a dark glee at the sport and spectacle its quarry was making. Boolio’s steps slowed as blood loss began to take its toll. He had been granted a weapon; a small, rusty knife that could barely be seen by the audience. It was becoming too cumbersome to even hold such a minimal object, and it slipped from his grasp.
Finn gripped the railing before him and violently whipped his head around. Stormtroopers roamed up and down the rows of seating. It was a ten foot drop at least from the edge of the spectator area into the arena below, not to mention the laser-based defense grid. There was no way down.
Boolio dropped to his knees, wheezing shallow breaths as his thermal worksuit became laden and stained with blood. The Gamorrean, spying an opportunity for a dramatic kill, started into a sprint. He raised his axe in both hands above his head, roaring in triumph as he approached.
His path was suddenly blocked by a new gladiator, stepping out of the shadows as though appearing from thin air. A human this time, silver-haired and bearded. A man tall and aged but with a thick, strong frame. He wore a long, grey duster and a matching broadbrimmed rancher’s hat. Silver spurs glittered on his hide boots. The newcomer raised a rusty metal sword and, with one powerful two-handed stroke, sent the charging alien flying across the sand.
The Gamorrean struck the wall a ‘thud’ that echoed around the arena.
The crowd roared.
The human gladiator lowered his weapon slowly as he turned to look back on Boolio, but the Ovissian had already slumped forward in death. A hand was stretched forward towards his rescuer, laying in a pool of blood. It lapped briefly against the gladiator’s boots, staining the spurs, before sinking into the sand.
Rose’s head dove into Finn’s chest and he embraced her solemnly. Despite everything, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the new fighter in grey and silver.
The cacophony of the spectators was pierced with a sudden booming voice that overtook every other piece of audio and demanded attention.
“Is this it?” It was the gladiator, gesturing broadly to the audience with his old, rusted blade.
Stormtroopers on the field seemed to assume he was requesting stronger foes and motioned to point a beast and him. But the oppressive wall of the man’s voice and the point of his sword stilled them.
“Is this crying, this cheering, this noise... is that it?” The ground almost seemed to shake with each word. “Is this the only response you have to invasion, to persecution? To those coming down upon your world and casting you into the pit?”
The gladiator’s voice roared throughout the space; unnaturally loud, as though assisted by the stadiums’ audio system. It was deep and authoritative, but with a slight wheeze as though he had a history breathing unsavory air. All mingled with a persistent hint of desperation.
“I demand of you, why? Why persist within your own destruction through complacency? Do you not wish otherwise? Are you not witnessing this? Are you not alive?”
Rose gripped at Finn’s arm.
“Because I see so very many of you!”
The rusted sword was raised and its pointed end slide across the spectators, ending directly leveled at the highest box seat which housed First Order officers.
“… and so very few of them!”
The rioting began almost immediately. Or maybe it had already started while the gladiator had been speaking. Finn had been transfixed. Rose grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him near violently.
Down in the pit, the other warriors had turned against the guards and had begun to scale the smooth walls. One of the beasts, freed from its handler, swiped its paws at anything or anyone within immediate reach. The din of the crowd turned savage as troopers attempted to exert control. Blaster fire began to pop and hiss around the arena.
With chants of “murderers!” the masses began advancing on the box seats.
Finn frantically scanned the sand for the silver hair gladiator, but despite his large stature and presence to incite all this, he’d vanished.
“We need to go.” Rose shook at Finn again and tugged on his forearm.
Finn nodded and they turned to make their way down the row. They were in no condition to offer support, and were just as likely to be trampled by the rioting crowd as they were to help. With their contact dead, every second they wasted here made them a greater target.
“Halt!”
Finn’s line of sight hit the muzzle of a storm trooper’s rifle advancing on them and his stomach dropped. He attempted to pivot on his heels to shield Rose as best he could, and to potentially hurry her in the opposite direction.
The sudden movement caused his hood to fall away.
A change went over the trooper as he witnessed Finn’s face, his arms slackened, approach slowed, and gun lowered.
“FN-2187…” he whispered with reverence.
Finn froze, keeping a hand firmly behind himself and holding onto Rose as the chaos of the riot roared around them.
Their personal stillness was broken in a flash as the trooper whipped his rifle up to fire a shot over Finn and Rose’s shoulder into another storm trooper who had been advancing behind them.
The second trooper was knocked back violently from the force of the shot and tumbled into the seats below like a ragdoll.
“Go! I’ll cover you.” Their new ally pointed frantically with two fingers towards the exit, turning swiftly to fire more shots into oncoming foes.
Finn, still processing this display, was knocked into the present by the firm pull of Rose’s hand, and he allowed himself to be tugged after her. As he fled, he heard the telltale crunch of a blaster shot puncturing human flesh and a cry as the trooper... their trooper went down.
Grimacing in despair, but not looking back, Finn continued his pace; hand clasped tightly in Rose’s as they ran out through a dark hallway and then out into the massive stretch of sky and prairies.
The fighting had spilled outside as well. Storm troopers were attempting a more organized, and deadly form of crowd control by advancing on exit points in a uniform line with weapons drawn. But the pure size of the crowd was quickly overwhelming them.
Dust was being kicked up from the waves of stomping feet, mixing with the iron and sulfur that permanently clung to the area from its mining days. It swept upwards into noxious plumes.
Beginning to cough violently, Finn hurriedly directed them towards the vehicle lot. Their ship was hidden a good distance away, but they might find something to commandeer.
Heads bent low against the grit of the storming dust, Finn thought briefly he saw a shape in the darkness as they approached the lot. A massive, human shaped figure that towered nearly thirty feet tall, with spikes on its shoulders and a helmet-shaped head. Maybe a First Order walker of some kind, parked nearby and ready to be deployed.
He didn’t speak for fear of getting a mouthful of grit, and, as he attempted to shield his eyes to get a better look at the shape, it was gone.
Just an illusion then, or someone's long shadow cast on all this dust.
They ducked into the first vehicle they came across. A large, grey transport truck with antiquated rubber wheels, two exhaust pipes like horns, and a Shaak-catcher on its grill that seem to be comprised of massive knives pointing menacingly outwards. Its silver colouration was notable even in the thick rage of the storm, but it was also covered with scratched, gashes, and dents. Not that this was any concern of Finn and Rose; what mattered was it had a foolishly open door. They climbed up the high sitting cabin area and shut themselves in.
Momentarily cut off from the storm and the chaos, Rose threw the hood of her cloak back and shook what seemed like a whole mine’s worth of filth and sand from her dark hair, letting out a sigh of relief. Finn coughed into his fist when he realized he’d been staring and set about brushing himself off as well. Rose smiled briefly, batting at him lightly and sending up another small dust cloud.
The truck’s cabin area was surprisingly clean and well maintained compared to the sorry state of its external shell. There were two large seats, for the driver and immediate passenger, and two bucket seats facing each other just behind. A sizeable first-aid kit was held down with cords just behind them. There was an odd charm hanging from the rear-view mirror that Finn couldn’t help but notice; a circular bangle featuring a droid’s face in the centre of a red & yellow shield.
Rose exhaled slowly and peered out the front windows; the dust storm had gotten worse. The sounds was muffled, but rioting still ranged outside. Smoke was beginning to come into the mix as part of the arena burned, and the occasional flash of blaster fire lit up the swirling particulate.
Turning back to Finn, she eyed the steering column up & down and reached into her cloak for her tool kit.
“Wanna help me bust this thing open real quick and take us for a spin back to the ship?” she waved a multitool loosely between two fingers.
Finn gave a little half smile, pleased to see her bouncing back from what they’d just witnessed as he reached out to assist.
Suddenly, the dashboard lit up along with a roar from the truck’s engine. The whole cabin shook with the rumbling force. Rose snapped her hands down to the seat, dropping her tools. There was a lurch, and the truck began to accelerate forward through the dust storm.
“Finn?” Rose cried desperately, struggling to snap on the seat’s safety harness. The truck was blasting through the outpost’s region in a billow of grit, quickly accelerating towards the surrounding grasslands at frightening speed.
“It must have been remotely activated!” He called back, one trembling hand fumbling with his own belt, while the other desperately grasped at the wheel, trying to regain control.
He was able to briefly cant the vehicle’s direction slightly, though not control their velocity and, within seconds, the wheel locked unyielding in place. This was accompanied by what sounded like a brief, indignant growl emanating from the dash.
Now fully clear of the outpost and into the prairies, the air was clear again. Finn and Rose’s vision was limited to what the truck’s headlights lit up, a steady yellow-green pool of bright tall grass in front of them that was eaten up under the tires and then produced again as they rumbled forward at a breakneck pace.
Suddenly, a flash of brown and glittering eyes interrupted the repeating oncoming view. A Loth-cat had bounded into their path and was puffed with rage and terror as they bore down upon it.
Rose screamed.
There was a horrifying screech of metal grinding together as the truck slammed its own brakes. Finn and Rose were thrown forward with enough force to knock a bantha wrong side up, their bodies straining against their safety belts. The truck hissed and wailed as it slowed along the grass & soil. And then there was silence.
The infernal transport had ground itself to a full stop. Air rushed out from underneath it in a whoosh. Mechanical bits inside the truck’s hood clinked and clanked as they wound themselves down from the sudden exertion. The Loth-cat, who had been mere inches away from being violently impaled by the truck’s deadly front bumper, unfurled itself from its defensive crouch and hissed at them before dashing off into the night.
Finn, near manic with relief, breathed out a sigh that was half a laugh and lowered his head towards the wheel. Then screamed sharply as he caught sight of a new figure before them
Rose jumped from Finn’s outburst and clutched at her chest.
It was the gladiator.
He was standing directly in front of the truck, knee deep in the grass; lit up by the headlights with silver hair gleaming and a face full of rage. Up close, Finn noted, the gladiator had peculiar scars trailing vertically down from his eyes and over his mouth. They served to make him look all the rawer and more volatile. His eyebrows were also massive and thick, visible even under the brim of his hat, curved over his bright brown eyes that had a decidedly red quality… perhaps he wasn’t as human as he appeared.
The gladiator took a step towards the truck with clenched fists.
“Get. Out.”
Had Finn and Rose been of sounder minds at the time, they might have noticed that the gladiator’s voice rumbled out from somewhere within the truck itself, as opposed to his dry, snarling lips.
They barreled for the doors, nearly strangling themselves on the seatbelts they’d forgotten to unclip in the process, before eventually tumbling out into the cool grass. There was a faint smell of burnt rubber in the air, likely from the rough stop the truck’s old tires had made on the soil.
Finn rushed to Rose’s side, helping her to her feet and trying to place himself as much as possible between her small form and the looming gladiator. He was even taller and broader in person, potentially rivaling Kylo Ren in terms of sheer height, though that may have been assisted by the hat and billowing coat.
“We’re sorry!” Finn gasped, holding a flat, empty hand to show he was unarmed and backing away.
The gladiator, seeming pacified by their compliance, simply rolled his eyes and stalked towards the driver’s door.
“Don’t you…” he paused, seeming to consider how best to address the pair. His voice was deep and growling. “… young people know it’s dangerous to get into strange vehicles?”
“Not like we really had a choice,” Rose hissed from behind Finn, rubbing at the purple bruise the safety belt had left on her neck. “Thanks to the little stunt you pulled back there.”
Surprised at her forthright attitude, the gladiator paused, put both hands behind his back. and leaned forward towards them.
“Ah, well, my apologies then.” He had a very blunt way of sounding insincere.
“I mean…” Rose continued, now looking more properly at him. “You were right.”
Finn’s eyes went back and forth between them while keeping a hand firmly on Rose. So long as nobody was pulling out a weapon, this was fine.
This legitimately did seem to put the old man off balance, his scarred face going slack with brief astonishment, though he recovered quickly.
“The people here hate the First Order more than anything,” Rose continued, “They just needed a spark to get them to fight back against that whole murder pit operation.”
“If that’s the case...” The gladiator rumbled and grinned with a mouth full of very large and shiny, white teeth, “Then I am happy to have been of service. Though I confess my motives selfish.”
Rose tilted her head and drew against Finn slightly.
“But… that is hardly your concern.”
He turned back towards the truck, “I thank you for bringing me-“ he hesitated, “That is to say, my truck out here. Such excellent valet service.”
Foot spurns jingled as he walked. “I will be on my way.”
Is… is that it?
He’s leaving; don’t let him leave.
“Wait!” Finn called, jumping forward. The gladiator turned his head, looking just a little angrier and just a little more frightening than he had mere seconds ago.
“Listen…” Finn put out his hand, ring forward and twisted it to revel the hidden symbol. “We’re with the Resistance.”
Rose, following her partner’s lead, showcased her ring’s symbol too, while the gladiator blinked back at them under the brim of his hat.
“We’re dedicated to stopping the First Order,” Rose supplied, when the rings were met with silence.
The gladiator’s massive eyebrows raised. “Well, pardon my criticism, but your efforts leave something to be desired.”
Rose grunted indignantly but didn’t directly reply. The gladiator continued speaking, seeming to get caught up in a thread of passionate ire.
“Those wretches you call the First Order stole Co-” he blinked rapidly, “My beloved grandchild away from me here on this world. I couldn’t move at the time.” His fists clenched and he snarled towards the ground, spittle spraying from dry, cracked lips. “Couldn’t stop them!” Finn stepped forward his hand still out. The gladiator’s gaze snapped up and seemed to come back to himself. “I thought I might find clues to his whereabouts at the arena night. But there was nothing of use, so I saw no reason to let it continue.” He shrugged his large shoulders and looked off into the distance.
“What’s your name?” Finn blurted out.
The gladiator looked back to Finn but said nothing. A wind kicked up and whistled through the grass.
“What do we call you?” Rose came forward, fussing slightly with her robe before casting it back into the grass completely. She was wearing dark pants and an off-white work shirt. Her Haysian ore medallion glimmered briefly in the moonlight.
“Like… I’m Rose Tico. And this is-“
“I’m Finn!” Finn stepped forward and reflexively put his hand out to be shaken. The gladiator continued to stare. “Just Finn.”
“I know what a name is!” he snapped, looking down at Finn’s hand suspiciously. He eventually clasped it with a half-smile.
“I am… Well, if you want to call me something; Megs.”
After a beat, he concluded. “Just Megs.”
“Megs?” replied Finn, one eyebrow up. “That’s your name?” Such a short moniker hardly seemed appropriate for such a large man.
Megs scoffed and threw his head back in mild frustration, the cords of his neck working as he spoke. “Well, if it offends you that much, please feel free to imagine it’s something else.”
“Alright, alright. I just may do that.” Finn waved a placating hand as he also removed his dusty robe and let it fall casually to the earth. He brushed further debris off his blue pants and adjusted his vest. “Let me think of something.”
He could overhear Rose giggling a little behind him.
After a moment of looking the enormous, silver-haired man up and down, he relented. “Then again, maybe Megs is fine.”
“Finn.” The gladiator gave nod in acknowledgment and tipped his hat.
Rose pointed to herself and repeated, “Rose.” And then to the fawn coloured Loth-cat that had rounded back and was sniffing with suspicion at the truck’s cooling tires. “Kitty!”
The Loth-cat seemed to find the truck’s scent distasteful, and bunched itself up into a hiss. Without missing a second, Megs raised up his scarred lips and sounded off a pitch perfect imitation of a Loth-cat’s snarl, causing the animal to jump and sprint away.
“Cute!” Rose declared a little too loudly before slapping a hand over her mouth while her round cheeks went pink. Clearly, she hadn’t meant to say that.
Megs gave a little cackle of laughter that was halfway between heartwarming and off-putting.
Recovering quickly, Rose’s eyes grabbed Finn’s and she jabbed her head repeatedly in Megs’ direction. Finn nodded briefly in response. He didn’t need to be told twice what she was thinking.
“Come with us.” Finn said with more strength than he felt.
Megs’ laughter slowed into an inquisitive growl and he looked at Finn with a mixed of apprehension and bemusement.
“You said you and your kid got jumped on this planet, right? Do you have a ship to get off world?” When Megs didn’t respond, Finn gestured towards the dark rolls of prairie in the vague direction of their landing site. “Because we do!”
“Fighting back against the First Order is the best way to find your grandchild,” Rose added. “And… you were right. Again.” She sighed and flopped her heavily arms against her sides, “The Resistance needs all the help it can get.”
Megs looked between them, seeming uncomfortable and pulled back.
Finn kept his eyes on him. There was something… a voice or feeling that it was deeply important that this man come with them. He couldn’t explain it.
Had Poe been there, he would have likely called it a ‘gut feeling’ and said it was on account of Megs’ natural charisma. Had Rey been there, she might have said it was the will of the Force, or that it was pragmatic to acquire strong allies.
But they weren’t here, so Finn had to handle it his own way.
“Help you?” Megs all but whispered, “You don’t want my help. I couldn’t even… Can’t even…” He trailed off, but quick as a snake, snapped to look at them dead in the eye and continued with venom in his tone. “Know this. I am not a good person. I’ve done… things.”
Looking down at the swaying grass, Finn licked his lips. “Well, hey. A lot of people can say that.”
Megs didn’t appear to be listening anymore though. He looked off into the distance, the way they came. Plumes of thick, choking smoke lit underneath by red and orange were rising in rolls. Monad Outpost was burning. “Though I’d dearly love to just rip into those that snatched my child away… war tends to bring out the worst in me.”
His voice was almost wheezing and strained. “My life’s work is dedicated to the safety and enrichment of my grandchild’s home now.” He shook his head slightly. “I am a rescue worker. Full-time commitment that it is. The preservation of life… I swore to lose my taste for causing suffering.”
They blow you up today, you can blow them up tomorrow.
“This isn’t a war like that!” Finned cried out, sharply and suddenly enough for Megs’ eyes to snap back on him.
“It’s…” Finn breathed heavily, trying to get the words out, cursing that he wasn’t as eloquent as Poe or general Organa. “It’s a rescue. The soul of galaxy is at stake and we’re trying to save it.”
Rose was at his side instantly, “If you’re a rescue worker, you should understand that, right?”
Flabbergasted and potentially a little cowed, Megs backed up further. It was clear he was growing frustrated with them. His awful, scarred face was twisted into a grimace; a low growl was broiling in his throat. “I think you’ll find everyone tries to justify their conflicts thusly-"
“Please!” Finn tried to pour strength and ‘must’ into his voice without sounding like the lost child he knew he still was. But this was too important to run away from.
Please...
Please… I can help you.
Megs was full on growling now, but in the cautious manner an Akk dog desperate for food and care may snarl at an approaching hand until it was proven safe. He was looking intently into Finn’s eyes. They were indeed red after all, but Finn found that he didn’t really care all that much about that.
“You...” Megs said softly, “You remind me so much of…” He stopped and shook his head suddenly; the arrogant smirk and grim set of his eyes had returned. “Very well. You’ve convinced me.”
Rose clasped her hands together and gave a little jump, despite the serious face and posture she’d held only seconds before. Megs chuckled at this and put his hands on his hips.
Finn exhaled loudly while clapping his own palms together, “Great! Excellent! That’s… I’m so-“
Megs was already turning to stride to the vehicle, long coat billowing in the wind.
“I just hope whatever you flew in on is big enough to carry my truck.”
Rose scampered towards the passenger side, “Hey, can you do anymore of those animal noises?”
***
“So. Let me see if I’ve got this straight.” Nickel was wheeling slightly back and forth on her tire feet as she mulled over the tale Cody Burns had spun for her. “Megatron, leader of the Deceptions, champion gladiator of Kaon, ‘Everything I touch is food for my hunger. My hunger for power!’… that Megatron.” She shook her head in disbelief. “He called an end to the Great War. The war that turned our planet dark and uninhabitable. Had a change of heart and now lives on a dirt planet swarming with squishes, putting fires out, and pulling small carnivorous mammals down from high places at the request of their owners. Do I have that right?”
“They’re called cats,” Cody explained. “And it’s mostly just Mr. Pettypaws. I think he likes the attention. But yes, that’s... basically it.”
Kel nudged Cody between the shoulder blades and whispered, “And this is your grandfather, Cody?”
Cody replied over his shoulder in a hushed voice. “It’s complicated.”
He continued, louder, speaking to Nickel once again. “Look, I know Megatron did… a lot of bad things in Cybertron’s past. But he works hard to make things better on Griffin Rock now. People can change! You guys do it all the time. Sometimes even into cars.” He waved his hands up and down in Nickel’s direction. “Sometimes into medical carts!”
“I think we’re talking about very different things,” Nickel replied flatly. She glided a few metres off and stared up at the dark ceiling. “You know… When I signed up in Megatron’s army, he promised a better future for us Mini-Cons. Total breakdown of the caste system! Self-determination, the right to live alone or bond with whoever we wanted. ‘Every shape shall serve their own purpose’!” Her deep blue eyes turned downward “But what I found was just another crowd of giant brutes who wanted to graft me onto their arm, chop up some poor unsuspecting sod, and then throw me in a tool box once the horror show was done. No one really cared about us. No one really cared about… me.”
Cogman came forward slowly and put a hand on her round shoulder. She reached back and gripped it in kind.
“So… If Megatron really has changed, then I want to see that for myself. Maybe I can apologize for abandoning the cause. Maybe he can apologize to me, though I doubt that very much.”
Cody smiled. “You’d be surprised what he’s capable of.”
Nickel stretched and rubbed the back of her short neck, producing a few metallic-sounding pops. “The Lord Megatron I remember was only motivated by Optimus Prime.”
“Well, when we find him, you can see for yourself.” Cody turned to Cogman. “And you. Once we get back to our dimension, you can see Cybertron… you can see home again!” He gestured broadly to the whole hallway of children. “I think seeing home again is something we all want.”
A sea of tired, glassy eyes with just the tiniest flicker of hope blinked back at him. There was a murmur of approval.
“Righto, young master!” Cogman marched with weapon at the ready towards the still locked hallway door. “Then let’s not dilly dally.”
He held his pointer finger up as he paced. “This ship’s operating with a skeleton crew. The captive children outnumber the enemy more than ten to one." he turned on his heels to continue marching in the opposite direction. "We knock a few heads about and this vessel is ours to roam the cosmos with. Now, how’s that grab you, eh?”
To Cogman’s surprise however, Cody seemed less than enthused. His gaze had dropped to one of the downed troopers on the floor, the one Cogman had hit first, with his helmet twisted about.
“Kel…” Cody began softly, “You said the First Order rounds children up to use in their army, yea?”
“Right,” Kel replied grimly. “That guy, all of them on this ship… They’re probably luckless orphans that got picked up and conditioned to fight years ago.”
The hallway had gone silent, the crowd of children looking at their fidgeting hands or to the floor.
Breathing a little harshly, Cody finally turned to Cogman. “Can… you take off his helmet?”
The task took some doing, as the force from Cogman’s elbow had badly cracked the material into a shape it was never intended for. Eventually, Cogman simply set his fingers under the edge and pried the object off in two pieces with a splintering crack
A pale man’s face lay swollen and bleeding lightly on the dark floor. Shallow breath wheezing in and out of cracked lips. He had reddish brown hair and soft features, twisted though they were by a broken nose and a splatter of blood
forming an almost hand-like shape creeping across his skin.
Cogman looked down at the broken pieces of helmet, to the other downed troopers, and then at the whimpering children. Some of hid their faces into the shoulders of friends, cellmates, or siblings for fear of the ghastly spectacle.
Servo’s ear lowered and he whined.
Almost inaudible, Cogman murmured to himself to be mindful of the fragility of biological life, and then briskly turned to Cody again.
“Very well, the escape pods then. We stuff our foes inside and blast them, non-lethally mind you, away. Does that suit?”
“Yes please, thank you,” Cody replied. He found himself moving the troopers carefully into the recovery position, almost automatically.
Kel and Eila breathed simultaneous sighs.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Kel began, crouching to help Cody with the leg positioning. “I don’t have any personal sympathy for these guys. But my sister and I have seen enough violence for a lifetime.”
“Yeah…” Eila was squatting on her heels near the two boys, watching them work.
“Who wants to look at human fluids more than they have to anyways?” Nickel commented brightly. She wheeled up next to the door and began working the control panel.
“Now, stay behind us at all times kids.” Cogman stepped to the front and checked the rifle’s sights. “Things are likely to get a little waxy at the start.”
***
At the start of the rotation, the First Order Conscript Transport and Primary Education ship (serial number AX-00487) had been laden with children properly filed away in cells with just the right amount of armed soldiers patrolling its glossy halls. Everything was calm, orderly, and firmly under First Order control.
And by the end of the rotation it was not.
Survivors from the incident, picked up from far flung moons and planets where their escape pods had dropped, reported the whole affair had happened quickly. They had been going about their duties when concussive shots had been heard and it went dark.
Some reported seeing a ‘naked’ protocol droid holding a weapon. Some said it was a little white and teal droid with wheels for feet yelling curses and that was the last things they heard. Others claimed to have spied one or two loose children and been pursing them down a corridor before getting knocked out. But all had woken up far away from their ship and mission, crammed into escape pods and adrift.
Days later, a young man with auburn hair and a broken nose would be picked up by Resistance outreach. He would tell a similar story to other refugees from his former ship, though with massive blank spots in his memory and a deep desire to enlist against the First Order.
***
Cody stood on the AX-00487’s bridge with Servo panting happily by his side. The now large group of free children flooded the room and pressed their faces to the glass looking out into space as they talked excitedly amongst themselves.
Kel had Eila up in his arms and spun her around in delight while Nickel fussed with the ship’s controls. Cogman was busily counting how many orders of celebratory cake and milk he would need to put together from the mess hall.
In the hubbub, Cody kept his eyes on the massive sea of stars overhead, in front of, and all around him. Thousands upon thousands of glittering lights. More than you could ever see out of town. Probably more than could ever be seen on earth at all.
“Well Servo…” He scratched between the dog’s ears. “I don’t think we’re in Maine anymore.”
Nickel slapped two metal hands against the command console. “We’re up and running! Hyperdrive engines primed and ready.”
The children began turning upwards towards the pilot’s area, their whispering voices grew louder. Cody pulled his attention away from the stars and down to the crowd.
“Let’s take stock of everyone’s origins. See who we can’t give an easy ride home to. Everyone else… well..”
“The Resistance!” Eila and Kel called back in unison.
“They’re opposed to the First Order,” added Kel. “Maybe they can help.”
“Do all that before trying to find Megatron?” asked Nickel, though she didn’t seem at all surprised.
“This is the life of a rescue worker,” Cody replied amiably as he strode towards the end of the ramp to get a nearly 360 degree view of the bridge. “Besides, I’m sure he’s looking for me too.”
Servo barked in agreement and bounded around in a circle.
“Alrighty.” Nickel turned back towards the console. “AX-00487, making the jump the hyperspace.”
“Oh, that name’s gotta go!” Kel winced, walking up beside Cody and pulling him into a side hug. “Can’t you think of anything better?”
“Me?” Cody looked out into the stars, hands on his hips, and ran his mind through stories Heatwave had told him about Cybertronian adventurers of old.
“What about the… The Axalon?”
“Works for me,” Nickel replied as the engines thrummed beneath them and the starry sky bent into streaks of glowing light. “Want to do one more honor?”
Cody smiled and nodded. “Noble!”
Kel clapped him on the shoulder. Cogman picked up Eila and carried her on one arm towards the group. Her yellow eyes were bright and full, staring out into the shifting blues and greys of hyperspace.
Servo pranced on metal paws to the end of the walkway and marveled at the rolling waves of light.
Following his dog, Cody extended an open hand towards the ship’s heading. The twirl of colours played on his skin. He closed his eyes and exhaled gently.
Just one second at a time, Cody.
We’re got a long way to go, but we’re going home.
His eyes snapped open before firmly calling the command.
“Roll out!”