The Diego Diaries: Function (dd6 5)
-0-On the ground
The game began with a toss to Kaon who caught it. Both teams ran along the sideline until they came nearly to the end zone before Kaon was run out of bounds. Rad-R who had run the ball ran back to the huddle. They made their plans, then returned to the line. Sitting in the stands with Riff, Edict, his daughter, and a young mech of dubious caste persuasion, Hobbes watched with anticipation as well. He loved football which was the national pass time along with racing. He wanted Simfur to win. It wasn't because he was that religious. He just hated Kaon and its teeming pools of poverty and violence. He had no conscious connection to his own part in creating it. He just felt what he felt. But then, a lot of people hated or disliked Kaon for the same reasons. It was one of the hardest luck and dangerous towns on Cybertron and no accident that Megatron would make it his military capital. It still jarred him, however, that Rad-R was playing for Kaon. His son, Riff, was on a respectable team, Praxus. He would have to see what Raff could to do to get one too.
It would be a tense but ultimately joyful experience for Edict.
-0-On the deck of Impactor's Revenge
"Cyclonus, thank you for coming. I am in need of your wise counsel," Prime said. He was speaking formally to Cyclonus, himself the Master of the biggest representation of the Guiding Hand philosophy in their culture, the Monastery of the Clavis Aurea. It was a respectful start and Cyclonus felt it.
"I am here to advise, Optimus Prime," he replied with a bow of his helm.
"The Functionalist Council has arrived with a group of ships that we are sure does not represent everyone that was in the sphere of their influence. We are deeply concerned what lies down the trail they traveled to get here. What can you tell me about them and their philosophy? We know that they espouse the Guiding Hand as their principal theme."
Cyclonus moved to sit on a chair. He was silent a moment, then looked at Prime with fury on his face. "They're killers. They use the Guiding Hand as a justification for their actions. Nowhere in the philosophy of our beliefs is there justification for recalls and mass murder. We do not hold to their 'theories' about how 'things should be', nor do we believe the Pantheon supports them. What they practice and impose is another form of slavery modeled after the Quintesson Oppression. They are not a part of the Guiding Hand practice and any attempt by them to justify their behavior on that notion is rejected out of hand. They do not speak for us."
Prime nodded. "I believe so as well. They have been taken into custody. I am going to interrogate the curator, Seven of Twelve. I would appreciate it if you could assist. I am not as intricately versed in the nuances of your faith and beliefs, though I am not without knowledge. I intend to further familiarize myself in future on all the beliefs and customs of our people. For now, I require your assistance, Master Cyclonus."
Cyclonus nodded, pleased with both the expression of respect to him as the singular and most important leader of the Guiding Hand belief system and Prime's interest in becoming more knowledgeable. "I am your servant."
That percolated through a number of neural nets in the room as they waited. Springer drifted over towing a mech behind him. Reaching the hatch, he grinned. Shoving the mech inside, he entered too. "We got him out of a cell. Gee-Gee is reaping what we sow."
Prime nodded. He looked at the mech with a rather simple plain design and the disconcerting unnerving singular optic in the middle of his face. All of their species had designs that differed somewhat. Personal choice was always a factor in their formats. However, a singular optic wasn't common nor was it considered attractive. Binary beings followed the path of more species in the universe than one could imagine. Two arms, two legs, two hands, two ears and eyes, this was the major design of humanoid-shaped figures everywhere. Having duality instilled from creation with its aesthetic as well as practical aspects evident, it was startling even to as wildly diverse a species as the Cybertronians to see a single optic. Empurata created as a punishment by the Functionalist Council ensured that the victim had only one after torture was concluded and it was not only ugly but reminded everyone there of that terrible punishment.
Their terrible punishment.
"You are Seven of Twelve. I am Optimus Prime. With me are my general staff and Master Cyclonus of the Monastery of the Clavis Aurea. I am in need of information and I command you to tell me. No matter what your philosophy tells you to do, you are my subject and you will comply. Do you understand?"
Seven stared at him, then bowed slightly. "Understood."
"Tell me where you came from. What was your life like there and how many of our people were there with you?" Optimus asked.
One could almost hear the thought process of the mech as he considered the questions. Answering them was going to hurt. "We came from near the Benzuli Rifts, the far side of what we called The Ravages … the tumultuous energy rifts that populate that side of the universe," he replied.
"That is Decepticon territory. How did you manage to stay there unknown until now?" Cyclonus interjected.
"The Ghosts there, the phantom ships kept everyone away. They would have to travel through that space to reach us," Seven said.
"You're welcome," Blackjack said bitterly. "Too bad I didn't know you were there. I would have paid you a neighborly call."
Cyclonus glanced at Blackjack. "That was you?"
'Jack nodded. "Yes. We kept the 'Cons out and gave you cover. I wish I had known," he said as he stared at Seven with a venomous expression.
"Tell me in detail about your colonies and what the situation was there for your settlement," Prime said.
Seven took almost too long to answer but when Cyclonus shifted to face him, staring at him with a hard expression that only the big mech could conjure, Seven stepped unconsciously away. "We had four settlements. There were about half a million individuals. We traded with the local aliens and kept to ourselves. We were building a civilization in the wake of catastrophe."
"Which one? The one when you were overthrown from your tyranny and had to flee or the last one that grew out of your hatred? We had both because of you, slagger. Be more specific," Ironhide vented.
"We needed to settle so we did." Seven turned toward Prime but didn't speak further.
"You say you had half a million individuals but there are only at best 4,500 in this migration. Where are the rest of the people?" Prime asked.
It was incredibly tense in the room as they waited with growing dread for the small mech to tell what had happened to 500,000 individuals.
-0-Kaon v Simfur
They faced each other along the line with towers teetering with menace. Sideswipe had the ball and it was time to move. He faked a throw down the line, then barreled in knocking towers into each other. A free player grabbed his arm but he twirled, pouring on the speed as he ran for the goal. A toss to Sunstreaker, a pass to Rad-R, then back to Sideswipe transpired in the wink of an optic before Sideswipe put the ball through the hoop. The crowd went wild.
-0-Out there
It was so silent it was painful before Seven spoke. "They remain there. We didn't have enough ships to take everyone. We came here to seek assistance, Lord Optimus. We came here to gain protection and assistance."
"It required 4,500 of you to do that?" Raptor asked.
Seven glanced at him. "We came in a delegation, General. It is our way."
"You came with those you deemed worthy of living. We know your 'way'. How many of the others are still alive, Seven? How many of them did you recall?" Hard Drive asked.
He glanced at Hard Drive. "I am the curator, General. You would have to ask One or Two such questions."
"Like you can't answer them. Like you don't know? You recalled them didn't you," Hard Drive said. "You recalled them and left with those that matched your standard. Tell me I'm wrong. I would welcome it."
Seven stared at him, then Prime. "I cannot speak further without the presence of the others. We are a collective, Lord Optimus. I am unable to formulate further commentary without consultation."
"Then consult this," Cyclonus said. His servo shot out to grasp Seven around the neck. He rose to his full height of nearly 29 feet with the smaller mech dangling in his fist. "Answer the mech. Do it now or I shall have the duty to squeeze very hard."
Seven who was petrified kicked a moment as he gripped Cyclonus' servos with his own. Then he hung in defeat. "As you command."
"Speak, then I put you down. Lie and I remove your helm. Either way, I go home to my studies and you go to the scrap heap at some point," Cyclonus said darkly.
Prime sat quietly watching, his inner sense of well-being sinking drastically. This was going to be very very bad.
-0-On the ground
The celebration of the score was tremendous. Everyone who was for Kaon danced and shouted in the stands. Those for Simfur and they were many booed and otherwise showed the Cybertronian sense of fair play when it came to sports. The teams walked back to the line with Sideswipe and the offense walking off to incredible applause. He grabbed the little mechs one at a time to hug them, all of it caught on the jumbotron.
Standing in the stands enjoying themselves fully, the little mechs' families watched their children's delight on the giant screen along with everyone else. As they did, Prowl slipped away to return to space and the growing indication that a debacle of monumental proportions had been discovered.
-0-Out there
Seven stared at Prime as he stood on the deck again, a monumentally huge enraged Seeker seething over him from behind. "Lord Optimus, the rest of our population is on our home worlds in the Benzuli. They are all there."
"Are they alive?" Prime asked. He dreaded the answer but he knew it was coming. As he did, the room faded and he was back at a familiar place. It was the place where he saw The People both emerge and re-enter the water from an early vision during the Festival of Primus. They had all stared at him, registering with their optics all he needed to know about their fate as they both left, then re-entered the dark water.
They were here now but they weren't in the water. They were standing around him in a giant circle of individuals. They stretched out as far as he could see in all directions. They implored him silently, then almost as one turned toward the water. One of them looked at him for a moment. "Too late," he said. Then they all began to walk forward to disappear forever into their watery grave. They entered it disappearing into the darkness until no one was left.
Prime stared at them frozen in place. He had seen brutality all his life but this shocked and jarred him in ways he thought were impossible to feel again. Then Solus appeared before him, solemn, haloed in white light as she hovered over the ground. "Optimus."
He turned to her, his face a desolation. "We are too late, Lady? Tell me we are not."
Solus touched down to the ground, then walked to him. "It was not your fault. This is not your failure. Put it where it belongs. You did your best. You aren't omnipotent in this form."
He stared at the ground in dark misery. "What have we become?"
"We have become what we were intended to be because of your labors, brother. This is a vestige of the past. We must root it out, all of it, then return hope to The People. There are four colonies that hid from them. They knew this group was there but kept out of sight in the rifts. Go to them. Bring them back. It will make a difference."
Optimus looked into her beautiful face, one filled with compassion and love. He nodded. "Very well."
She touched his cheek. "You feel and that is well. That you take on the failures of others as your own isn't. You aren't supposed to be omnipotent in this form. You are merely expected to do your best. I would be sorrowed if you blamed yourself."
"I am their Prime," Optimus said with gathering emotion.
"True, that, but you aren't Primus," she said before fading away.
Prime came to himself in the room surrounded by his mechs and an equally silent Prowl. He was sitting in the engineer's chair next to a pensive pilot and a room filled with tension and barely contained rage. He stood almost without conscious thought as if to do so would remove him from the all-consuming pain that filled him. He looked at Seven who tensed under his stare. "You killed them. All of them," he whispered.
-0-TBC 5-14-17 edited 5-15-17
NOTE
Sorry for the jump in time. I was thinking that when there is something bad having a 'good' to intersperse makes it not only more bearable but more slice of life. I remember when someone died in my family how could everyone else go about their lives like things were normal? How come they weren't as miserable as me? So it is here. This is a monumental tragedy but a championship football game is going on. Life. Sometimes it can really suck.