The Diego Diaries: Problems (dd6 292)

-0-Ops Center, later that orn

Miler and Venture sat together in the conference room again. Miler had finished his tour in the Trigger. Ten thousand refugees had come through in big cargo ships. It was decided that this would be the way to bring in a large number of individuals without the complications of having an ocean of ships to deal with. Huge cargo vessels from the Prime's Fleet were taken through and loaded up. Miler had been the navigator and after a bit had lost himself in the work. Venture had gone to work at the office in Terra. It was harder to lose himself in his job given the unspoken possibility that Zenith and Shadow could invoke on both of them.

Having grown up in the rarefied heights of their caste, they were raised to be conforming and obedient. The Praxian group had their own habits and rules, rather like Stanix and other sub cultures around the planet. For the greatest part of their lives, both had been obedient sons, doing what was asked of them without comment. That they were beautiful companions for each other was a miracle. Coming here had not only been the finest event in a long terrifying and arduous flight from Cybertron, it had reunited them with their son. Now, the past was extending itself into their newly found freedom and family ties. What they would do about it was scary and uncertain.

After they finished their shifts, they walked together to the Ops Center, called there by Prowl and Prime. Entering, they walked with Prowl to the conference room and sat. Prowl looked at both with concern. "How are you today?" he asked.

Venture glanced at Miler, then shrugged. "That's in the hands of your grand genitors. I'm concerned."

Miler nodded. "They were almost gods on Cybertron. They had few equals. They had power and wealth so they never had to learn disappointment. They never had to learn limitations. I don't know what they might do even if they can't do anything about The System. They aren't used to hearing no." He looked bitter a moment. "I certainly never told them that."

Prowl nodded. "They use silence as a weapon, you know. They know it makes most nervous. It doesn't matter what they want. They're going to find out what limits feel like."

"What if they invoke, son?" Miler asked. "I don't know what I would do about that. I'm … our culture is important to me. I know I'm ..." He halted a moment to think about his thought, then he looked rueful. "I was raised this way and I find comfort in what I know and believe. Of course, things have changed or were modified, but the outline of my life always gave me comfort. Even if I didn't know how to be close to them, I was close to Primus. I was proud of being from Praxus. If they invoke, I think it'll be a crisis point for me."

Prowl nodded. "I know. I sort of have the same existential angst, too. You know what being Praxian means to me. Optimus has agreed to teach the children what that means. What would it mean to have to choose whether to acknowledge the core of your identity or give it up for something else. I'll tell you now … I'll give up my culture before I give up one person in the family or any friends I've made." He looked pensive a moment. "I have to tell you that I was a real cold blooded fragger for a long time. I was machine-like, I think, in the way I approached things. I had … bad relationships because I had no confidence but if others heard that then, they would have laughed. I was good at projection."

Miler squeezed his servo. "I had no confidence. I hid in books and learning. I didn't have the social graces but I learned how to pretend. The house was exquisite but soulless. Our life was glittering but drab. The only color in my life was you and Venture and I didn't know how to treat you or nurture you … you were a mystery to me and I admired that. I didn't know until The Fall that was what I felt. You were always free, Prowl. You had more freedom than anyone and even though you were a wonderful son and mannerly, you were impenetrable. My genitors were proud of your achievements but they pressured us to make you follow the path more closely."

Prowl nodded. "I know. I want you to know that I always knew that and how hard the forces of our class pressed you. I never blamed you. I blamed the system that made things so. You did your best and I know that. I always did." He grinned slightly. "I liked thwarting them." He sat silently a moment. "I … was never good at the emotional stuff. I thought it was a wedge into me and what I wanted, to let anyone see that part too closely. But something in my spark is filled with … I don't know if compassion is the word … I feel sad for both of them. They're incredibly talented and gifted. They had every advantage under the sun but they're so lonely to me. They're so incredibly lonely."

"Its the life. No one gets too close to each other in our caste," Venture said. "Notice how lonely and desperate all the bonds of our friend group were? Edict tried to kill himself. Madura became housebound. Laslo was a nervous wreck trying to be the referee in his family. Millow is a glacier and a threat to Traachon ever becoming reconciled to the new reality. They all were harmed and squeezed by The System. No one was truly happy at our end of things but the Elites. I remember the first morning after we reconciled with you when we came here. I walked out into the sun and marveled. A sense of dread that had been with me for as long as I could remember was gone. It felt like a weight was lifted off. It was clear to me, Prowl, that the only thing that matters is love. Love and family … friends. Helping each other and caring for each other. Those personal intimate things are the only ones that matter.

"Remember how wonderful their house was? They had more money than even my family and we were … we were parasites, too." He looked emotional a moment. "My family had love for each other and we were a team. Miler had another story. You were so beat down by them. It came to me when we bonded and were trying to become friends. I remember how anxious you were and it made me feel terrible to see it in you. That's no way to live. All you have is love. You can't take anything else with you to the Matrix in the end … only love and memories. They don't and may never know that."

Prowl squeezed both their servos. "You have mine."

They stared at him, their contrarian son who had known what he wanted and pursued it young, then hugged him. "You and Prima … the best things I ever did for myself, Prowl. You're our hero," Miler said.

"And you two are mine. It wasn't an accident that we found each other in the universe and this isn't one either. Maybe we have to save them," Prowl said. "Maybe this is being put together to make things better."

"I'll hold a good thought," Miler said as the door opened and Optimus walked in. Behind, trailing him as he walked to a chair next to Prowl was Hard Drive, Raptor, Delphi, Blackjack, Ironhide with Halo, Turbine, Micro, and his son, Piro. They were bruiser mechs, all but Hard Drive and Piro. Piro would become a big mech like his father, Micro, at some point in his life but for now, he was a taller and bigger version of the more slight, slender and less obviously lethal format of Hard Drive. Everyone sat.

"How are you both today, Miler? Venture?" Optimus asked sympathetically.

"Nervous," Miler said. "Worried."

Optimus nodded. "I know. I asked Hard Drive and his family along with Micro and his son, the only other Praxian Elites in the colony to come forward and discuss this discreetly with us. I do not wish to make public any of your private worries-"

"No," Venture said. "It's alright. We have a big problem here and maybe the Elites are the only ones who can make it right. Thank you, Optimus, for helping us."

"We are family, Venture. I will always take care of the family to the best of my ability," Optimus said. He glanced at Hard Drive. "General, you are senior Praxian here. We have a problem with the genitors of Miler's and their views on The System and the members of the family who they feel fall short of their caste. We have discussed some things with them, myself, Ratchet and Miler, and the implied but unspoken threat of invoking has come up. We would appreciate your counsel on their situation and your ideas about how to handle it without breaking up the family or causing irretrievable hurt."

Hardie nodded. "Thank you for asking us, Optimus. The first rule of our caste is to serve without prejudice all the people of Cybertron. Our caste was a dampener and a control device on the rest of the high castes. We had a Code that we lived by to ensure that our focus was kept true but it also meant over the eons that rules and agreements about what we could do and how much we could intervene grew up that were binding and held true across the high caste group." He unsubbed a book, a large one with a silver engraved cover. It was written in Primal Vernacular.

"You read Primal Vernacular?" Optimus asked with surprise as he looked at the book.

Hardie nodded. "I do," he said. He glanced at the others. "I'm unclear how many of you do. After all, it's the language of the First Primes and mostly ceremonial. Few beyond priests and historians use it anymore, though it's your Matrix language, I believe," he said as he glanced at Prime.

Prime nodded. "It is."

Hardie set the big book down. It was large and very thick. It had metallic pages and was beautiful, rather like a highly polished jewel. It also had the essence of great age to it. The book itself almost seemed sentient. "This is The Code of the Praxian Military Elite which is supported by our patron Prime, the Thirteenth Prime from whom the creed comes. In here, kept over the eons by me and others, all of the rules that apply to the high castes reside. No one but the Elites read or edit The Code, though nearly every Praxian had a copy of some of it, mostly the family and societal obligation stuff to keep for their family. Every youth of our particular sub caste is raised in accordance with the rules on these pages. Its not opened for others unless there's a good and compelling reason. Like now." He grinned slightly. "We have to ascertain what the precedence is for invocations that appear to be unjust and if there's a way to oppose them without destroying the family and any future chances for reconciliation."

"That's the hope," Venture said. "They never said it but they implied it. I don't know what I will do if they force the issue."

"Well, let us see," Hardie said. He looked at Micro. "What do you think about this, Micro? Your point of view is always diverse and intriguing."

Micro laughed. " Nicely put, old friend. I think the first step of a visitation by a delegation is in order. Frankly, I remember Zenith. He's fierce in the martial arts. Though he's no soldier, I would hate to face him in a fight." He looked at Prowl. "I see that you follow your grandfather in that manner."

"We would go to the dojo in the Middlin District, the small one," Prowl said. "It was one of the few things we enjoyed together. I think his personality was formed by the philosophy they taught with the forms and techniques."

"They also taught respect and attitude," Micro said with a slight grin. "Your appa and amma use that as a tool. They use silence as a weapon knowing most can't stand silences. Good tactic. Smart."

Prowl nodded. "I remember. I also remember that Appa was really happy when I passed and was accepted. I just wanted to learn something to help me when I went into the police force."

Micro nodded. "Shadow is no slouch, either. They were given high remarks by Master Yoketron." He grinned. "You were Yoketron's favorite student. He thought you had as much talent as he did. He also thought you were the hardest hard helm he ever trained."

Prowl smirked in spite of himself. "I was untrained and undisciplined. He was right."

Micro nodded. "I think a delegation visitation is in order. Then … what about a hearing if they feel the need to invoke. We always have the last word."

"We do," Delphi said. "Given that caste is forbidden, the idea of invocation might be moot. You cannot invoke if you have no force of caste behind it."

"But it is written into Cybertronian law, into the legal codes and statutes, Ada. That makes it different. The Stanixians enforce their own cultural rules, usually with fists and peds but there's no legal law to support their positions. They're supported by agreement and practices developed over the vorns. There's no other sub culture that I'm aware of that got their rules written into law," Raptor said.

"That's because of the Millian fiasco. Remember?" Delphi asked.

They thought a moment, then Hardie nodded. "I remember." He looked at the others. "There was a family in Polyhex who owned a business, a big business. They had a lot of kids and their bonds had a lot of kids. Most of the time in that situation, at least back then, the oldest child inherited and the others worked for the company with good wages and such. It was a way to protect businesses from being broken up due to the death of a genitor. Inheritance laws were changed by this as well. The family owned the Millian Company who made space vessels and invested in real estate all over Cybertron. If the business was divided it would lose a lot of value, jobs would be lost and it would have been a mess.

"The patriarch died and left his company to his oldest son just like the rules and laws stated. The bonds of the younger ones were unhappy as you can imagine and there was a court proceeding to contest it. The family wanted the laws changed to make things more equitable." He grinned slightly. "Equitable when they wanted it, not otherwise. The oldest son petitioned a number of other business types in the Senate who were wealthy scions of corporations about writing the invocation language into Cybertronian law. That way, if they took it to court and the court ruled that the informal rules and practices were not legally binding, he'd be wiped out without protections. Invocations that carried the force of law would prevent them defeating him. The senators pushed it through and it was codified into law.

"Given that the oldest family member in a group, the oldest son in this case, became defacto 'atar' of the family at the death of his father, he could invoke. Anyone could invoke basically on anyone if they were related and senior. A younger brother can't invoke on an older sibling but the older sibling can on the younger. It's a strange mishmash of rules but they were designed to preserve power, not be fair. Over the eons, they were mostly used to preserve families from mistakes, such as someone bonding with a bad person. Also oddly enough … you'll find very few actual invocations in the record. Just the threat is enough to make most problems disappear."

"That case also codified the rules of inheritance. The older brother prevailed, he could legally invoke on the younger ones and his problems went away. How the others felt about it is unknown," Delphi said.

"Then invoking because its legal and codified in the law makes anything they do a binding transaction," Venture said.

"I would think so," Hardie said.

"Then we have to impress them with a delegate visitation. If they persist at that point, you can call for a caste court to review their rationales. If its just straight up bigotry, we can somehow fashion a ruling from the Primal ban regarding the application of the law toward that end. If everyone is equal, an argument that some aren't is rather moot I would think," Micro suggested. "Any laws that are designed to support bigotry fall under oppression, correct?"

"I would believe so," Hardie said. "Barron could give us a lesson on that aspect. We have a lot of leeway short of caste court and if they chose that route … you can call it, Miler, then we can hear their explanations. I don't know what they would hold to short of caste justifications and bigotry and both of these arguments are moot because of the ban and our new view that bigotry is not legal here."

Venture relaxed slightly. "That makes me feel slightly better," he said.

Prowl nodded. "The legalization of the invocation process makes this a problematic situation. They haven't stated that they'd do that specifically but its implied in what I heard and you, too, right, Ada?"

Miler nodded. "I heard it under the surface." He frowned. "I want to love and be proud of them. I want them to see our family and friends as the miracle that it is. I don't want them to hurt anyone's feelings or make them feel the sickening oppression again. The idea that the twins might have to undergo this sort of thing … and Ratchet. It makes me want to weep."

"Then we have to do our part," Hardie said. "First, the delegation discussion with them. Then its in their court. They invoke, not invoke … it will be over if they don't. It could be that they won't. If that fails and they decide to press their point, we have two courses. They can face a caste court and lose there. Frankly, I don't see a feasible argument for this for them unless they know something all of us don't know, especially after the last case with the Functionalists. They have to have at least a decent enough argument, though I'll warn you … sometimes its just enough to invoke. The argument is almost irrelevant. The second course if they lose in caste court is to sue in the colonial court system. Since its a law in the Cybertronian legal code, they can pursue it that way. If they lose there, they can appeal as a last resort to you, Optimus."

"Has anyone ever done that?" Optimus asked.

"No," Hardie said. He opened the book and thumbed through the pages. He came to the section on courts and various options to bring there. Reaching the pages on invocations, he read a moment. "There has never been an appeal outside the court before but there are only about fifteen invocations listed here. They involve alienation of affection, blocking unsuitable affairs from becoming bonds and a few civil-style litigations. Nothing about our problem. Remember, this tended to shut down problems. Going to court was everyone's option but it was final in a way that nothing else is and we had a great deal of power to control things, as you may have noticed with Lucien and the others."

Prime nodded. "It is the only reason this is not discontinued. Until the last high caste capitulates, we have to have this option."

Hardie and the others nodded. "I agree."

"How does this work, Hardie?" Venture asked.

"We will choose the delegation," he said. "I think Delphi, Micro and me. Raptor can come along as the muscle."

"That's me," Raptor said with a big smile.

"You'll be so cute at it, too. I love your little face when you attempt to be a hard aft," Delphi said with a grin.

"Attempt?" Raptor asked with a slight sense of miff. His genitors were delighted. He had the cutest pout.

"What about us, Atar?" Piro asked his father.

"You won't be needed unless a court happens," Micro said. "If a court is required … refresh my memory, Hardie. It's been a while."

Hardie opened to the section on courts and picked the one for invocations. "We have to have a quorum. If you appear with Turbine, Delphi, me, Raptor, Blackjack, you Micro and Piro, we have one with a spare. You, Piro, will record. Ironhide, you get to be the muscle."

Ironhide smiled. "I get to be the tough guy. Maybe I better come along on the delegation visit and get lessons from you, Appa."

Raptor frowned. "Insolent child. CASTE COURT! I INVOKE!"

Huge laughter erupted.

Hardie smirked at his son, then his grandson, then his great grandson. "Slaggers. No respect for tradition and your elders. Did I say elders? I meant betters."

Micro laughed loudly, then slapped Raptor on his shoulder. "You poor sad sack."

Hardie read a moment. "The court will receive the petition and it will be a closed session. These sessions because of the personal nature of the content are usually closed. We hear the petition which they can present themselves or have counsel, both sides get their turn, then we think about it. We don't have to come to a finding at that moment. Sometimes, a court will hold the finding allowing the litigants to stew about it and sometimes they find a way to figure it out themselves. We could do that here."

"I don't think they would budge if they invoked," Miler said sadly. "They've never heard 'no' in their lives."

"Well, we can fix that," Hardie said as he closed the book.

-0-TBC 3-7-18 edited 3-8-18

moot: (moo-t) has no power, isn't in effect, over

pensive: (pen-siv)

angst: despair, fear (ang-st)

existential: (x-ih-sten-shul) Existential Angst is the relation to one being aware of the possibility that life lacks meaning, causing an extreme form of anxiety, and a feeling of despair or hopelessness.