KAON

Chapter 1

"I'm in Kaon, aren't I?"

Those were the first words that he had spoken after finally bringing himself from the haze of unconsciousness. It was something that the small mech had realized before he even gained enough energy to online his optics. Kaon brought up this feeling inside him, something uncomfortable yet familiar, though with a constant presence of terror. It was a feeling that, after being felt for the first time not too long ago, he knew he would never forget.

The dank cell with a faint purple glow, the unpleasant odor of leaked energon and other fluids drifting into his olfactory sensors, the distant screaming- they simply helped to affirm his conclusion.

To the right of him there was another mech, not exactly hovering over him, but close enough to provide some sort of comfort from the fear or confusion that was probably expected of him. This unknown mech looked surprised at the calm, though somewhat hoarse words, arms folding over his faded red chassis.

There was silence for a long moment, and turning his head slightly the mech who had just awoken watched as the other mech looked over him with such intensity that if it were any stronger it might have been a scan. He looked for answers in the other's form, as if somewhere on his small, scraped frame would inform him as to why this mech was so informed and calm- why he was different from every other lost, trembling mech that he had seen brought into the prison.

The mech's yellow chassis provided nothing, neither did those bright blue optics, and so the red mech finally asked, "Have you been to Kaon before?"

The yellow mech shifted and sat up, hissing a bit as the movement provided an informative neural response that told him that his left shoulder had been pretty heavily damaged and that the rest of him was in a better but still rather banged up state.

The red mech shifted a bit closer at the sound, one servo almost reaching towards him, though it stopped before it reached him. The smaller mech smiled a bit as he recognized the gesture that the other had almost made, one of intended comfort, and briefly he wondered if the other was a medic, or had a similar job that included such sympathetic feelings.

Then he remembered that this comforting mech had asked him a question, so he quickly replied, "Yes. Do you know of the prison break that happened a while ago?"

He watched as the other mech's eyes lit up a bit as he remembered and said, "Yes, I do recall that. Right before Optimus Prime became a "prime" he led an enormous prison break, using the Decepticon's own ships as a means to escape. It was a great victory for the Autobots." The red mech then paused for a moment, seeing the implications the smaller mech had presented with his question. "You were there, then? For the jailbreak?"

The yellow mech smiled a bit sardonically as he recalled that time and the roll that he played in the break. He remembered traveling through the enormous prison, fighting the guards alongside his comrades- the feeling of joy as Optimus interacted with the main system and opened all the cells, returning the Autobots' freedom.

"Yeah, I was there," the small mech replied, simply. As the red mech thought this over, the other took the time to finally really look around the cell, and it was just as unpleasant as he expected. Splatters and grime covered nearly all space available on the metallic walls and floor. Broken parts, wires, tubing, random limbs- all sorts of unpleasantries were scattered along the edges of the room.

Tucked in one relatively clean corner there was another mech, large and green, who leaned against the wall in a way that made it seem like there was no place else he'd rather be. His faceplates told a different story, however, as there was an expression of defiance and a gleam in his dark blue optics.

The yellow mech caught hold of that expression, and those optics met with his own lighter blue. His defiance- his strength- was heartening, the smaller mech found, and he gave the other a warm, curious smile. It was to the red mech's surprise, after having only firm, defensive conversations with the mech even though they had spent much time together in the cell, seeing the smile that the green mech gave in return.

After glancing around the room briefly once more, the yellow mech finally turned his gaze upon his own damaged shoulder. The metal armor there was crushed, the finger shaped denting telling the tale itself of the brute who had grabbed him. Similar yet less severe dents on his lower chassis only further told the story.

"That looks painful," the red mech said. After getting over his initial surprise at the differences in the small, yellow mech, it seemed that his protective programming kicked in just as it always did.

"It's fine," the injured mech replied, hesitantly feeling the damage with his other servo and internally checking for a damage report. However, the yellow mech was far from a medic, and beside the number of error responses his internal systems provided, the only thing he could confidently conclude about the injury, was that it hurt to touch, and even more to move.

The red mech watched the others movements, and recognized the frustrated and pained look that emerged on the smaller mech's faceplates a moment later.

"Allow me...?" He offered when the injured mech removed his servo from his damaged shoulder. "I have a bit of medical training."

The bright blue optics glanced up, a bit surprise at the offer, but the small yellow helm nodded an affirmative and the damaged shoulder was extended toward him a bit.

Very carefully, the red mechs larger servos physically mapped the wound, searching for weak parts of the armor or any leaking fluids. Then he took a scan, using his knowledge to determine a diagnosis.

"Well, you're not oozing energon, and the scan does not show any ruptured energon lines, so that's good." The red mech began, eyeing his readings before looking up a bit farther to meet the gaze of the injured mech. "However, it is not impossible that you damage or rupture one on part of the crumpled armor. Try not to move it, and definitely do not transform until your self repair systems have repaired the sensors and the metal back in a less crumpled state."

The yellow mech looked down at the floor during the red mech's proclamation, but upon its conclusion he looked back up, met the others optics, and thanked him. Then the injured mech stood, quickly gaining his balance and stepped towards the only wall with bars. He refrained from touching them, seeing the coating of dried energon on them, but attempted to peer around to the best of his ability, scoping out his surroundings.

"Planning to escape?" An unfamiliar voice asked with a cynical kind of humor, and the yellow mech turned, realizing that it was the green mech who had spoken.

"Yes," he replied, meeting the dark blue optics again. "Getting captured was not part of the plan; I cannot remain imprisoned here."

"You think because you got out once you can get out again?" This time it was the red mech that spoke, and in a hopeful rather than disbelieving voice, the reminder of the initial jailbreak having been somewhat inspirational.

"Yes," the yellow mech said again, turning back toward the bars. "Do you know how deep in this cell is? Or did you enter the prison unconscious as well?"

"Pretty deep," the green mech provided. "It took us quite a bit of traveling to get to this cell from the entrance."

"Deep enough to require a crawler for entrance?" The yellow mech asked, mentally recalling the use of the large mechanized transportation device that crawled down the walls. It seemed that the majority of the cells were on the lower levels, however his original journey had included an impromptu teleportation to a cell, so he could not be certain if they had remained on the same level.

"No," the red mech chimed in. "Not that deep. Though we are on the lowest floor of the highest level of this part of the prison. If we were going to go any lower then it would have to be by crawler."

Not everything was going wrong, the yellow mech realized as the other's statement gave him a feeling of relief. The deeper he was, the more difficult it would be to escape.

"Are you making that plan of yours already?" The green mech asked, with equal parts sardonic humor as curiosity.

"Yes," the yellow mech replied, moving back further into the cell and sitting down again not far from the red mech. "The sooner the better, though with this arm I'm going to have to wait a while. My plan may need some transforming."

"Well, you shouldn't have to wait too long," the red mech reassured, his comforting attitude proving to the small mech that the other did not believe that escape was impossible.

"Hey, kid, what's your name?" the green mech rumbled, and the yellow mech smirked a bit at the "kid" part; he really was a kid. But coming from this mech, he felt as though the word was a term of respect rather than a demeaning one.

The green mech waited patiently as the small, young mech gave him a small grin, his bright blue optics glowing a bit brighter as he answered the question.

"Bumblebee."