The Diego Diaries: Function Over Form (d6 21)
-0-The night before
They were brought in, nearly 2,000 individuals that were identified as the leadership of the Functionalist colony, their dependents and those among the upper echelon deemed worthy among them to live. They were the faceless bureaucrats that made the wheels turn. Lining up on the tarmac of the prison's airfield, they stared at Gee-Gee without expression. The Council alone had diminished faces while the rest looked like any other Cybertronian albeit with simple designs and finishes. They weren't very showy, the Functionalists.
Gee-Gee watched each group of newcomers sorting mentally through their composition, noting the number of children in the group. She had a call in to Child Services to come assess them to determine if continuing in the custody of their parents was safe, prison or no. These, after all, were the architects of at least one genocide that they knew about. How many others were on their sparks, she didn't know. They were being sorted and documented on the spot as tech groups walked down the lines scanning transponders, jacking in to take baselines on health and determine their identities through other processes.
Cybertronians had five different transponder identification nodes in their bodies, disks that were engraved, then placed in such a way that their protoform would graft to them to make each part of their permanent bodies. Two they could afford to tamper with. The other three? They were the cause of many a fatality by someone seeking to hide or change their identity. This process was the reason why they would be able to identify even the most battered dead on Cybertron, a bittersweet possibility to most.
When the database was completed the group would be marched to different barrack areas by type and disposition. Bonds would not be honored with this group. Their children would take priority. The mechs who met certain criteria would be housed together. All femmes, if they weren't of a dangerous type, would be also. Only the Council and about 22 of their subordinates would be singled out for solitary confinement in ad-seg. Gee-Gee over the eons had formulated her 'lists' of what to look for in new inmate and they were nearly foolproof. No one would have a chance to escape, fight, collude on stories and information, nor coerce someone into hiding or changing information by virtue of being together. She was a pro and they were her challenge so she scrutinized them scientifically. They would be the ones who would lose in that sort of encounter.
The data teams finished, then walked to stand by her. She nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate your work."
They murmured and nodded to her, this standup femme that all of them liked and admired. She had during training sessions kicked all their afts. Several times.
Looking at the group, the Council standing together in the front row, she began. "You are my prisoners. I will allow no challenge to that simple truth. You will be held here in my prison guarded by my mechs and femmes until I'm told otherwise. I have simple rules. You behave, treat each other and the staff properly and we won't have a problem. If you decide otherwise, then I have all manner of places to put you, none of which are pleasant.
"You had your say elsewhere. You had your run. Now you're mine and I have complete say over every aspect of your life up to and including deciding when you can empty your debris chute. You will get up when I say, walk to wherever I say, do whatever I tell you to do, eat when I say, go to bed when I say, and you will all speak with courtesy and respect 'Yes, Warden' and 'Okay, Warden'. You will not back talk, attempt to 'discuss' any rule or order, assert any privilege that you feel is owed you nor challenge anyone who is in charge of you. My team is well trained, crack shots and masters of personal combat, hand chosen by me to be here. They are professionals who know a hundred ways to subdue you, none of which are pleasant, and they cannot be bought or pursued to do less than their duty.
"You have no power here. Let me stress that again," she said raising her voice a bit. She walked along the front line where the Council stood in silence. "YOU HAVE NO POWER HERE!" She was silent a moment as she stopped in front of Seven of Twelve. "You should know that what happened has been reported to the colony and Cybertron. Everyone knows what you did. There are Clavis Aurea here, me included. There are Circle, Knights, Missionaries, and Temple here. You are here and you stuck a knife into the heart of our unity.
"I will defend you. I will keep those who might feel you deserve a short and bitter fate away. I will not allow you to feel that you have the right to carry on with your system and practices nor will I allow you to have power in my prison. YOU HAVE NO POWER HERE!" she said. "You will now go with your guards to the location where you will live until the Prime decides what to do about this. The food is good, the accommodations are comfortable, the entertainment pleasing, and you will not be torn apart by a mob. Count your slagging blessings that a Prime like Optimus captured you and not someone else." She glanced at Cirio, one of two assistant wardens. "Please take them to their cells. Leave the Council."
Cirio nodded, then began to give orders. It would take a while for the crowd to leave the area and make it to their cell blocks. Along the way, they would have to pass through cell block zones as well as the accumulated angst and rage of hordes of criminals and former Decepticons who had watched the news. They spent the time the group passed by their enclosures telling them how they would unscrew their helms and other bodily parts. It would be excruciating for everyone.
The last group walked away leaving the 12 Councilors and their 22 main accomplices. She walked to them, getting very close. "I am Clavis Aurea. That is part of who I am. It was always just a little bit hard for me to swallow that what I believe, the love and decency of the Hand and Primus could be so perverted. I would rip your sparks out myself if that wasn't base cowardice in light of my code. You will stay in isolation and singular detention until orders come down to change that to something else.
"There's something missing inside your processors and sparks. You're as dangerous a group as I have in this prison and I have the worst of the worst. You will be my special project. You will see what it means to belong to the Guiding Hand. You will see it from me. I will PERSONALLY show you what you should have been and not what you are. If anyone of you so much as steps over the line, I will string you up myself. UNDERSTAND!?" They nodded. "Then good. Turn to the right and make a line. I'm personally taking you to your detentions and anything that you require or need including any of your hurts I will PERSONALLY take care of so you can actually know what it means to be Clavis Aurea." She turned to her guards and nodded.
The guards got them into line and with Gee-Gee in the lead, they walked onward to administrative segregation and the singular lockups that would be their home for the foreseeable future. They did so through the pent up rage and sociopathic menace of those already here and unlikely in the future to change. No one yelling would come close to the level of crimes committed by the silent group walking down the road to their detention.
-0-Elsewhere
Barron stood in his office with Alto, his bond. Alto was sitting on the office couch as Barron got together the preliminary data that was sent to him by the forensics teams working the functionalist case. He was putting it into a stack so that he could go over it with his assistants, all of them specialist lawyers at preparing cases, sifting and evaluating evidence, experts at forensics as well as interviews.
"Barron, I think it might do us all some good to leave things until tomorrow. The children are meeting at Auntie and Uncle's house and I think we need to be there," Alto said.
Barron glanced up as he placed a stack of datapads on one of the several piles he was constructing. "I feel very anxious, Alto. I haven't felt this anxious since we came here. You know me. I've been a lawyer and legal expert for a very long time. I have seen it all. But this … this is incomprehensible. I remember them. My father told me a lot about them. They were overthrown just before I was separated. I wished they had been dealt with. They were allowed to get away because of friends in the government. I would love to know who they were. They would stand charged with this too for that act alone."
Alto nodded, then stood. A cheerful, wonderfully sweet individual, Alto also knew something about courage. He was a founding board member of the Primus Peace Mission back in Praxus during the orn and nearly came to empurata at the servos of Shockwave who was combing the planet for the heads of the resistance movements. He missed Jetta by inches as well. "We need to talk. Talking to the children will help, talking with Auntie and Uncle. They will all be in need of your level-headed calm counsel, my dear one. Come with me. You are tired and need refreshment."
Barron stared at his bond for a moment as emotion rose in him. "Alto, I'm tired of this. I'm scared for our people still missing."
"Prime will bring them all home. There are many places he is focusing upon right now, all of them waiting for us to come. We will. We have so far and I see no abatement in that focus. Come, my dear one. Let's go see the children and Auntie," Alto said as Barron stepped around his desk. They would walk to the door and leave for the station toward home. Arriving at Auntie's house, the elderly femme fireball would have them in, serve dinner to all and they would talk together for joors and joors with the delightful company of the grandchildren. It would be good tonic for everyone.
-0-Later that morning
"Where we going, Atar?" Praxus asked with his usual big smile.
Ironhide grinned as he held leashes on three of his kids. Praxus, Orion, and Prowler hip-hopped along the street. The Titanic kids were with ammas and appa today, getting the word on the new probability that there would be missions upcoming where the dreads and other adults would have to leave and they would have to function alone. They were going to receive training over the next few orns, perhaps all the way until school re-opened in ten orns. It would be a good idea given their day job at the DMZ.
Ironhide on the other servo was keeping the shorties with him as Sunspot and the little Prime mechs hung out with the ammas and appas galore of the Ironhide and Ratchet family. Spirit, Rambler, and T-Bar would go with Sunspot to 'help out' Ravel and Company at their apartments … 'helping them do cleaning and chores, Ada' … like that. Kes and Tagg along with Venture would have the little Prime girls and the twinnies.
Bluestreak and the twins were doing duty helping deal with the data being drawn from the ships and their databases. Running errands, taking data here and there, they were busy. When Turbine and that side of Ironhide's family had a moment, they would take whatever child they could grasp, their own or Prime's to keep everything going. Prima would stay with Miler and Scout was firmly ensconced with Blackjack. Appa Scout and Amma Trooper would be helping to plan the services with the Temple, Monastery, and Halls of Order that would honor the dead. They would provide appropriate music.
It was busy as Ironhide finally picked up his kids to get through the silent crowds who were going toward the Temple or Monastic districts for whatever reason. Entering Metro 1, he walked down the corridor to the door that led to his offices. When he arrived, his bomb-making kids, Nitro, and Holi would be there. They stared at him as Holi picked up Prowler.
"What's the word, Ironhide?" Nitro asked. The kids who made things, though former Decepticons half of them with some soldiering looked pensive and scared.
Ironhide noted that then drew on his own confidence for them. "The word is 'keep going'. We have to make sure that the colony is up to snuff on the armored side. Those slaggers even think they want to come here, it's up to us to derail that." He looked at the kids who were staring at him with concern. "You kids do a slagging fine job. You help us defend everyone every day by the things you do here. You're professionals, every one of you, and I'm proud of ya. What we have to do now is keep working on our part of the project. Without us, there would be no defense. Don't worry about what you can't help. Do what you can."
"Will they come here, Abba?" one of them asked. He was a young refugee who had graduated first in his class at munitions school and worked here full time while pursuing further education in the field.
"They don't appear to have that capability, infant. They wouldn't dare. They live far out beyond Cybertron and the local cluster. Don't worry about them. By the time they arrived even if they could, you will be a great grandpa." He grinned at the kid. "Do what you do to continue to make us all proud." He nodded to his kids. "Little mechs need a role model. They only got me and Ratchet."
The kids relaxed as they grinned at him. Then they turned to the task at hand. Ironhide turned to Nitro. "Committee meeting, soldiers only tonight at 1800 TMC. Prime hopes to have more information by then."
Nitro nodded. "I hope so."
"What do you hear about things in the community?" Ironhide asked as he picked up Orion.
"Shock, anger," Nitro said. "No one can believe this. Most don't remember or weren't here for them. I wasn't. Were you?"
"My appa fought them in the civil war. I only know the stories," Ironhide said.
Orion looked at both, then smiled. "Atar. You doing this good here?" he asked as Ironhide set him down on the ground.
"I do," Ironhide said with a grin of pride at one-third of the progeny that had come with him.
Orion smiled. "I HELP!" He then walked to the detonator bin and had two in his servos before Ironhide reached him. He would spend the rest of the morning on someone's arm or lap. Ratchet would have plotzed.
If Ironhide ever decided to tell him.
He wouldn't.
Holi would over the vinegar section of the Grocery. It would be an accident.
Maybe.
-0-Ratchet who didn't know
They walked along the sidewalk heading from their tower to the one next door which was the Autobot City Medical Center. Ratchet grinned at his partner.
"Ada, why am I coming with you to work?" Hero said as she looked upward at Ratchet. She was carrying a little bag she had packed herself that appealed because it was covered in giraffe spots, her 'snack sack, Ada'. Her book bag was filled with all manner of stuff for amusement and entertainment as she carried her dog dollie like a baby.
"It's 'take your infant-to-work-orn', Hero," Ratchet said as they entered the lobby of the hospital.
They would chat all the way to the elevator before disappearing upward inside.
-0-TBC 5-29-17 edited 5-31-17
I almost didn't post this. We have had rain all week and now it's clearing off for a few days and my old bones are creaking. HOWEVER … the bots had other plans. :D:D:D
ESL
DMZ demilitarized zone: a place that separates sides in a conflict where no one can go with guns or bad intentions. Sometimes, you can't go at all. The most famous one is the border between the two Koreas.
Progeny (prah-jenny): someone's babies or kids.
Plotzed (plot-zd): freaked out, fell apart.