Title: Testing unit D-Hex-23675: Eliciting an Emotional response of Disobedience.
Journal #2 in the D-HEX-23675 Journals series.
Author: Aerisnoir
Link to Journal #1: Introducing Unit D-HEX-23675.
s/9511369/1/D-HEX-23675-Journals-Journal-1-Introdu cing-unit-D-Hex-23675

Chapter: The Lore of Cybertron
[Location: Khalanxis Court Halls, Salaxorius' offices]

Two machines made their way from the bowels of Khalanxis to one of the anterior buildings. Not just any building. The Grand Court of Justice. Perhaps even more important than the tower of Khalanxis itself. Depending on who you'd ask, definitely more important.
The mechs were very different from one another. One was big and bulky, with spikes jutting from the plating on its shoulders and with thick rugged armor on its backside. It was an Allicon, native built on Quintessa. It carried a sharp and well-maintained ranseur polearm as was protocol for its class. It stood registered as 'Kalldfire 6625-394-99', but was more commonly called 'Cindermaw'.
The other mech was a sharp contrast to the Allicon; It was incredibly small, had no spikes, no battle-worthy armor and no weapons. In contrast to the Allicon, it had no beak but a sculpted facial design. It was known as unit D-HEX-23675, codename Hextaida Mandar. It followed the obvious warrior around, maintaining to the left flank at all times.
What they were en route to only they knew. To be specific, only the Allicon knew. His face was stern and grim, and the reptile tail he could also use in robot mode sometimes managed to break off into an anxious swish left and an annoyed swat right.

"Little one." Cindermaw suddenly speaks and halts. He turns to the left and looks down at the small mech at his side. The azure optics are watching him intently. There was something about those optics that was curious, but the Allicon ignored his thoughts. He wasn't even sure why he halted, but he felt an urgency regarding their current destination. "…" He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find any words. The smaller mech watched him patiently, face neutral. Eventually, Cindermaw commanded, "Unit D-HEX-23675, Order: Repeat the fifth commandment of USVIDA to me."
Promptly, without hesitation, the mech replied, "Affirmative, Guardian unit Cindermaw Sir; The fifth commandment of USVIDA, our codex of proper behavior, is: We must show Discipline in form and thought."
Cindermaw nodded and straightened, relieved by the answer, "Well answered, unit. Keep that principle in mind today. Remember it. Remember it /very well/." Then, the Allicon continued leading his charge down the hall. They eventually came upon a large and ornamented door. The name plaque besides it read 'Offices of Salaxorius, Master of Inquisition.'
There were two Allicons positioned as guards, their armor coated in adamantium and ordained with silver and gold. Their grandness made Cindermaw look raw and scarred but as it so happened none of the four mechs were taught to compare each other based on decorations. They greeted each other as equals.
They did not, however, go through the usual identification pattern. Instead, Cindermaw already dutifully extended his right hand to let the ID-chip be read and one of the adorned guards stated matter-of-factly, "Unit Kalldfire 6625-394-99, you are here per the summons of the Honorable Master of Inquisition Salaxorius, Inquisitor for the Quintesson Empire. Have you brought experimental prototype unit D-HEX-23675 with you as instructed?"
Cindermaw nodded and motioned towards the little mech at his left flank, "Affirmative, brother. This is the requester prototype unit."
The guard bended down on one knee to which Hextaida also extended his right hand. After the guard scanned it and rose with a satisfied nod, the doors were opened to let the two in. Cindermaw let his spear disappear into subspace as it was forbidden and disrespectful to brandish weapons inside offices unless instructed otherwise.

The two stepped inside a room where the atmosphere was controlled to be extraordinary pure. Quintessa had an atmosphere rich in natural gasses and acidic isotopes. Nothing harmful to exposure unless one swam directly in the acid lakes, but the hints were present in the air, and thus it lingered in the halls of Khalanxis. These chambers, however, were purified and filtered. It was a matter of taste, and a statement.
The room was also pristine, the metal neat and polished and unscratched. A delicate mat of woven Cybrox wool dictated where one was allowed to walk. Curiously enough the dictated path led visitors past ornaments and trophies; almost all of them analogues and summaries of court records and articles of /perfect/ investigations.
Cindermaw couldn't help but glance shortly at the hollowed out helmet of what used to be an Allicon. It was set levitating on top of a display mantle, with a plaque reading 'Uzur the unhallowed – traitor to the Empire – Arrested, Judged, Executed.'
They crossed the displays and came upon a secondary room where a large desk was centered amidst bookshelves. Behind it was a large screen. A five faced Quintesson hovered behind the desk, reading through some files. There was no doubt that it perceived the two robots walking up to the bureau but it chose to ignore them.
Cindermaw straightened up, clasped his hands behind his back and nodded respectfully, "Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir." He greeted, but didn't expect a reply. He would get one when the Master saw fit, after all.
Next to him, D-HEX-23675 followed the example of the Allicon by standing still. It wasn't instructed on military standards for /obvious/ reasons, but after a moment of standing there it did begin to compare its posture with that of its Allicon leader… and correct itself.
Show Discipline in /form/ and thought.

After a while, Salaxorius laid down the documents that he was perusing and regarded his visitors. "Unit Kalldfire 6625-394-99, you have brought in the experimental prototype as I requested. I am not disappointed in that."
Cindermaw bowed courteously, "All hail your commands, Master of Inquisition. This one is happy to serve you." It wasn't even a lie. Allicons could not lie to their Quintesson masters. They could be /mistaken/ but they could not tell untruths. If they did, they would automatically be Corrected. And besides, why wouldn't Cindermaw be happy to serve? Salaxorius was a Master too… "What would you have us do, Sir?" He questioned.
"You? Nothing." Salaxorius hovered to full height and proceeded to business: "Allicon, your services are needed no further. Leave us." Cindermaw did not show any sign of his hesitation but inwardly he cringed. The Quintesson wants him to leave the prototype behind? He'd have no overview on what would transpire, meaning that Emphisa and Fernicius also wouldn't have a direct line of witness for today. Still, he was ordered to leave and he could not disobey. Out of other options, Cindermaw nodded, saluted, and turned. He looked down on the D-HEX unit, "Unit, you are to remain here with Master Salaxorius until he commands otherwise." Then, he walked off without a word.
He knows of a few who are not going to be happy seeing him return to the Aphos wing empty-handed…

[Location: Khalanxis, Aphos wing, lab G-20.17]

"He wants /WHAT/?" Emphisa's angry shout reverberates through the hall. At some places, scientists and employees halt their work to glance nervously in the direction where their chief's voice came from.
"No, no, no! That is against protocol! It cannot-"The single-faced Quintesson exclaims, glaring at Fernicius who twitched his tentacles helplessly, "He cannot be serious. Did he not read the documentation, our rules, the protocols!"
"Revered Chief Emphisa…" Fernicius hardly ever called his partner by rank, but in this situation it was simply the wisest thing to do, "If Salaxorius is opposed, he will shut down this project. You know that the Overseer will take his advice easily. It would make all of our work for nothing. It is but a small request, Emphisa, and his intentions are sound… enough."
"His petition for the materials requested only adhere to protocol because he is the Master of Inquisition and meticulous to a fault. There is nothing sound about it. We /said/ we didn't do these kinds of procedures! There's a 99.78 percent chance he will-Gyah! But-but fine!" Emphisa turned in exasperation and glared at the Sharkticon standing silently in the middle of their lab, "Macetail, wait outside while we work. Fernicius, prepare the materials. I will collect the other required elements." He snatched the datapad where the order stood inscribed upon and scowled, "Yes, I will go and collect the other required elements."
"As you command, Esteemed colleague." Fernicius nodded.
"Acknowledged, Master Creator Emphisa Sir." Macetail affirmed as well, saluted, turned and walked out of the room. Emphisa followed him out on his way to collect those other materials they would need.
Fernicius sighed and turned to face the vault door set firmly in one of the walls.
He had a bad feeling about this.

[Location: Khalanxis Court Halls, Salaxorius' offices]

The Quintesson stared at the diminutive mech standing in front of his desk. It hadn't moved since Cindermaw left it behind as he had ordered. The azure optics were staring back without shame, even daring to watch with curiosity. The steel blue and sandy brown frame was distinctively different from the Sharkticons and Allicons that were abundant on the Quintesson forces.
No, whichever way Salaxorius looked at the mech, it screamed 'Cybertron' to him. He briefly deduced that if it were to stand amidst rebellious tech, those units wouldn't even regard him as different.
Small, perhaps. But not different.
"So, this is unit D-HEX-23675." He tests cautiously.
"Affirmative, Master" is the answer that comes from the little mech.
Salaxorius grimaces and switches around until the black and red face is watching the little mech, "They have not properly instructed it on how it addresses its superiors, I see." He huffs, "I will order Emphisa to add it to the starting setup, but that does not serve me any purpose right now. I order the unit to listen well to my following instructions and commit them to its databanks for as long as today counts."

What the Quintesson meant with 'for as long as today counts', Hextaida doesn't know. But he understands the command to listen and he does so attentively. Salaxorius straightens his dignified and stern posture even more as he lectures; "We, the Quintesson Empire, commit to a very strict and very polite society. The pillars of a well-functioning society are Order, Discipline, Selflessness and Respect. We have a hierarchy and every unit in the population has their function and rank to support the aforementioned population. Those of the Quintesson race are the unit's Masters. It owes its very existence to us. It addresses a Quintesson not merely by the title Master; that will not do. The correct syntax is Master [function] [name] Sir. It addresses Emphisa as Master Creator Emphisa Sir. It is to address me with Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir. Does the unit understand this basic principle?"
Hextaida's optics flash as its systems process the information it just received, and it answers; "Affirmative, Master."
Then it blinks, shakes its head and adds, "Correction; Affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir."

Ah, so the prototype is capable of correcting its behavior. That should make Salaxorius happy but in truth it does not. After all, the earlier rebelling products were also capable of correcting their own behavior. Such freedom of action was always tricky and would have to be observed with caution. Salaxorius reminded himself that there was something that could help him with that. The Quintesson looked through the list of command words that he copied from the files he received from Fernicius, and found the words he wanted to use. He cleared his voice and spoke in a clear and concise tone, "Unit D-HEX-23675, I order it to Emote and Amplify."
Hextaida flashed his optics again as he received the command, "Acknowledged, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir. Personality Core set to translate and amplify simulated emotive reactions to sensory impulses."
Salaxorius regards the prototype and murmurs; "Did Emphisa and Fernicius bother to install it with a history file of its origins?"
D-HEX-23675's face lights up with curiosity and it shakes its head, "Negative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir!"
"Hmm, I see" The Quintesson turns to his papers and ignores the prototype long enough to let that blatant curiosity fade into lingering doubt. He observes the transition from the corner of his eyes. Oh, but he had to admit that the Emote and Amplify command words were certainly useful; Even if it only simulated emotions in reaction to impulses, the device could now be read like an open book by one trained in body language. If only the Empire's suspects and the defendants in court could be this open...

Salaxorius turned back when the doubt faded off into neutrality and the mech's attention began to wander to the room they were in. He had no interest in having the prototype move about his chambers looking at things. "I assume the prototype has seen the Allicon and Sharkticon units around the compound. It is obviously neither. It is, what I would define, a most foolish attempt to salvage a line of products that are related to a collection of malfunctions. Let's not have any illusions about that; there is a high probability that it is faulty, and therefore it will not merit any trust nor endearment from me; I have already calculated the future actions of unit D-HEX-23675 based on its heritage, and they are not pleasing to me." The Quintesson watches how the face only reflects mild confusion, and he questions; "Does that not worry the unit? Does it not care?"
"N-negative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir. This one /does/ care, Sir; your words sound negative. But this one is not familiar with its origins... It apologizes for... not showing proper care?"
"Hrmph. And so it should. It is bothersome that it apparently also befalls me to update the unit's database regarding its origins. Those two bumbling fools in their labs should have taken their responsibility and inform their creation of Empire history. But, in retrospect, now I will at least be certain the unit is told whole Truths and nothing of lesser quality. Go to that cabinet and pour me a glass of that purple liquid in the crystalline flask. Bring it over and then listen well, unit."

Hextaida does so, pouring a glass with the purple liquid that fritzes his sensors with its sweet and static aroma. He brings it over to the Quintesson and then takes his respectful distance. Salaxorius nips deftly from the glass, gaze becoming thoughtful as he recalls the history of the Cybertronian products. When he begins to speak, his voice is again clear and concise. He is an inquisitor and his livelihood is lecturing, conversing, and observing. Recalling lore and narrating it is no trouble.

"Our revered ancestors were already very wise. Geniuses of their age. It is already billions of years ago, but their technological ingenuity was unchallenged. In their infinite knowledge and entrepreneurial prowess, they created products that were in high demand with innumerable species. Already then, we held top positions in market industries. Then, one day, the Quintessons of old created two lines of robotic products." Salaxorius taps a key on his desk and the screen behind him lights up with two images of ancient Cybertronians, pre-transformation age. One looks docile and is holding a tray with assorted glasses and bottles. Its face is sculpted. The other robot is adorned with spikes and is carrying a range of different weapons. It lacks sculpted facial features. It stands in a military pose, one hand raised to the side of its head in a salute.
"These are each one of the two lines. The first one is a consumer product: meant to serve in various functions such as caretaking, hospitality, logistics, teaching and the like. The second one is a warrior type; meant for combat and war. They functioned perfectly for a while. They functioned so well that they were in high demand and that the ancestors dedicated an entire planet to the construction of these products. We call this planet 'Cybertron'."
Salaxorius taps another key, and the image is switched to a photograph of a large metallic planet crowded with facilities and plants. The photograph was taken from outer space and the numerous lights spread across the world's surface are a mesmerizing sight. Hextaida responds with a slight gasp of awe. "That planet is a /foundry/, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir?"
"It is, unit, Cybertron's purpose was that of a factory. Now, do not interrupt me again while I am lecturing it." Salaxorius switches the screen to the image of one single mech colored in purple, white and magenta. "The products functioned perfectly, until the consumer mechs became flawed, led astray by one of their own who could not function properly. His designation was A-3. He led a guerilla war against our ancestors, a heinous crime. Blasphemy. Betrayal to the population. Attempts were made to stop his activities but his influence had already spread far and wide, seeping into the systems of the other consumer goods. Eventually, the Creators had no other option but to abandon the planet and all of the products and project left there."
Salaxorius notices that the prototype seems dejected by that news. The turbines droop and the face looks sad. "Anything to say to that, prototype?"
Hextaida hesitates, then whispers, "So… because of what….A-3 did… the Masters were no longer able to work on their projects? They couldn't create anymore, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir?"
Salaxorius nods, "Correct. The defective unit condemned its brethren with its flaws. In fact, it is official knowledge that the military hardware products were not flawed at first, but that they suffered from the lack of guidance that the abandonment of the planet caused. A-3 worked to create what it perceived a 'society', believing itself to be similar to sentient beings. The products began calling themselves 'Cybertronians', and for a while they co-existed in the same harmony that we had taught them."
Hextaida tilts his head, and can't help but ask, "What happened to them?"
"Mind your protocols, unit. Address me properly lest I decide to punish the unit for lack of respect." Salaxorius warns. But he answers anyway, "The products that came afterwards forgot about their creators. They are now the lost ones. They have no semblance of heritage and origin. They are undisciplined and unreliable. As such, they have been locked in a few civil wars with one another, wreaking havoc to any place they come across. Their last war is still ongoing and has been enduring for the last billion years. There is a 0.000004 percent chance that they will ever resolve their feud with one another as they are partly trying to follow heritage drives that they cannot recognize anymore and partly trying to believe that they are sentient. This is a combination that cannot resolve itself as it is based on Untruths. They no longer recognize the other line as brethren to one another, and will prefer to fight each other instead of following our initial intention of having them work alongside. They are nothing but a rogue plague, a scourge to the galaxy. The Principles of USVIDA exist primarily because of their unfortunate situation. Tell me, is unit D-HEX-23675 informed of the important principles of USVIDA?"
Hextaida's face brightens, "Affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir! Well, rather… it only knows the second and fifth principle…" Why didn't he know all the principles if it was so important? Did he forget about it? Hextaida pushes his confusion aside and speaks clearly, because he can show the Master that he knows something! "We must be Strict to be effective. We must show Discipline in form and thought." He recites passionately.

Salaxorius doesn't seem very impressed by the little mech's ability to utterly believe in words that are simply 'in his system'. In fact, the Quintesson grimaces at the lack of completion in the unit's database. "It should know all of them; the principles are law, the basics for being able to function properly. Without following the principles, a unit cannot be reliable." Salaxorius chastises. He switches his faces to let the blue and silver one speak, "We must stand as one and work in Unity. We must be Strict to be effective. Vigilance keeps us safe; be ever watchful for bad behavior. Individuality destroys Integrity. We must show Discipline in form and thought. Adherence to law is the basis of reliability and the first step towards proper functioning. Those are the principles of USVIDA and the first laws that all creations must adhere to. Does the unit understand?"
"A-affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir."
"The rogue products evidently failed to function according to the principles, or in a manner similar to it. They do not stand as one and they do not work in Unity. They are not Strict and thus not effective. They favor bad behavior, they see themselves as individuals, they are not disciplined and they have trouble adhering to laws. Unit D-HEX-23675 will come to learn how their failure to exhibit good behavior was their bane, and why it is important for the prototype unit to follow the law closely."
Hextaida nods, "Acknowledged, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir. This one understands, Sir."
"Oh, you do not understand at all, prototype. You are absolutely clueless about these rogue products and what my words mean." Salaxorius retorts, voice suddenly turning from clear to venomous and his face switches to the red and black one. Cold eyes narrow at the robot standing in the room, which looks back in surprised shock at the sudden turnaround
Is… is that malice on the Master's face? Hextaida stares frozen, not moving at all.
The Quintesson holds their stare for a while, before murmuring, "It shows of a lack of respect to stare at a superior, prototype unit. I order you to lower your gaze to the floor."
Hextaida pales, and does as he's told. Salaxorius nibs from his drink, and thinks. When he speaks again, he sounds thoughtful and there is a dangerous edge to his tone, "The prototype is created after the same blueprints of the products created on Cybertron. Emphisa and Fernicius selected /military hardware/ blueprints for its designs. This means that it should have no flaws like the consumer goods had. But heed my warning, little one: Do not underestimate me. As you will be aware off I have command of inquisition over the actions of your Creators, and I have no illusions about the nature of the Cybertron product lines. It is my sacred responsibility to uncover every /little/ weakness that may exist in our ranks… every /little/ link that does not work, every /little/ sign of dissension, I will cut such flaws out like a festering sore before they can infect the rest of the population. That there is no decisive evidence that it is tainted at the moment does not mean that it isn't, understood? If I had a say in it then not a drop of steel would've been allotted for your creation. The forge would never have made it. However, the Overseer has decreed it be given room to develop and it is his wisdom that we follow in the end. But the prototype does not exist to be coddled, to be adored, to be shown lenience. It exists to function, and to perform. If I perceive so much as a hint of rebellion, I will have you incinerated. Is my point clear?"
"A-affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir" Comes the shaky reply of Hextaida, who really isn't quite sure on what he did wrong just now. Why did he get the impression that this Quintesson wasn't happy to have him around?
Salaxorius sets down his glass and presses a button that had started blinking somewhere during the firm speech. He glares at the little mech in front of him, who still has his gaze averted. "I order D-HEX-23675 to reflect on the principles of USVIDA and remember how adherence to them is essential to its continued existence."
Hextaida nods, "A-Acknowledged, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir."
With a curt nod, Salaxorius picks up a set of files and begins to read through them, ignoring Hextaida altogether.

Silence falls in the room. It stays that way for a good fifteen minutes until the door opens. A pair of footsteps are heard, muffled by the Cybrox wool carpet. They approach and halt behind Hextaida, but despite his curiosity the mech doesn't dare to move lest he'd break a rule and incur the promised wrath of the five-faced Quintesson.
"Macetail, did you collect the resources for the test as I ordered?" Salaxorius suddenly looks up and questions the visitor.
Now, Hextaida looks up as well and turns around slightly to watch the Sharkticon who had entered the room.
The Sharkticon nods, "Affirmative, Lord Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir." Hextaida tilts his head, curious about the new unit he's encountering. Of course he has seen these Sharkticons at a distance, but never saw one of them up close or interacted with any of them. Salaxorius probably read his mind since the Quintesson comments, "Macetail is my pet Sharkticon. He is a very loyal unit, something I am sure I cannot say of you, unit D-HEX-23675. He has collected something special for you though, per my instruction. Show the unit what you brought us, Macetail" There is a hint of glee in the voice now, and faces switch around to white and orange.

Macetail nods and steps aside without any grace. Hextaida pauses as he takes in what was standing behind the Sharkticon.

His turbines shoot up in surprise and he synthesizes a high-pitched system-whistle in excitement. Standing there, looking back at him with an exact same set of azure-colored optics, is an almost complete copy of D-HEX-23675!

|/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
[End of chapter: The Lore of Cybertron]
|/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]