Introduction: This scene contains SPOILERS so if you should read through Many Voices chapter 68 before you read this.
I'm serious.
You have been warned.
This happens all the way back in chapter 47 of Many Voices, chronologically, which is the chapter when Searchlight disappeared.
"Bring him online."
Senator Ratbat stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching as the young mech's optics lit up. The mech blinked and tried to sit, but stopped struggling once he realized the restraints weren't going to give. He glared at Ratbat.
"Good orn," Ratbat said.
The prisoner was silent.
"I'll spare you the formalities," Ratbat said. "You have one more chance to beg my forgiveness."
The prisoner stared evenly, unflinchingly at the senator, and didn't speak a word. No one would have thought he was afraid.
"Silent all of a sudden, aren't you? You weren't silent on the Council floor. Come now, speak up, mechling. Surely you have something to say."
"I'm sorry I made a scene about it," the prisoner said. "But I will not take back what I said. And I wouldn't beg you for mercy, not if Primus personally commanded me to."
"I can add blasphemy to your list of crimes."
"You can add anything you want to my list of crimes, can't you Senator? That's one of the perks of being a tyrant, isn't it?"
Ratbat frowned. "Do you know what I'm going to do with you?"
"What, you aren't going to execute me? Isn't insulting your pride punishable by death?"
Ratbat leaned in closer. "Do you remember what I told you when we spoke last time? That I would make sure you were never heard from again?"
The prisoner glared.
"I'm going to wipe your memories."
Silence fell on the room, thick and heavy.
"Everything," Ratbat said. "Your friends, your creators, all of it will be gone. And then I'll send you somewhere to live out the rest of your orns. Somewhere appropriately remote. A factory maybe, or the mines."
The prisoner shuttered his optics, then opened them again.
And smiled.
"It doesn't matter," he said.
Ratbat glared. "Brave words…"
"No, you can do whatever you want to me. Break me, kill me, make me disappear. And you can do it to the next mech who stands up to you too. And the next. And the next. But it won't matter. In the end, there will be someone who you can't arrest, someone who you can't silence."
Ratbat backed away. "Do it."
"Yes sir," the assistant said. He brought out a computer console on wheels.
"And that orn, it won't matter what you did to me. Because you'll fall, and that's all I care about! That's…"
The assistant opened a port in the back of the prisoner's head and plugged a cable into it. The prisoner's rant ended in a hiss of pain.
"I'll put him into stasis now," the assistant said.
"No. Leave him conscious."
The assistant hesitated, but didn't question. He plugged the other end of the cable into a small, round device, and then plugged various lines from the computer into the device. The prisoner seemed to feel them, twitching every time a new cord was connected.
The assistant went to the computer console, and started hitting buttons.
"Initiating preliminary scans," he said. "Scanning…"
The prisoner's hands made fists, and he shuttered his optics, as if he were bracing himself for something.
"…complete. Initiating memory wipe on your command, sir."
Ratbat nodded. "Now."
The assistant hit a button on the screen. The prisoner gasped, engine suddenly running full power. He seemed to lose control of his systems, and he struggled against the restraints, optics wide. He screamed.
Eventually, though his engine quieted, his venting slowed, and his expression lost all of the determination. He was a vacant, empty shell.
"Memory wipe complete."
"Put him in stasis," Ratbat said. "And… send him to Kaon. He can work in the mines there."
"Yes, sir."
Ratbat left the underground facility, and headed back toward the Council Hall, pleased with himself. The mechling could rant and make empty threats all he liked, but he'd be offline within a decaorn.
No one could stand up to the Iacon Council.