The Diego Diaries: Judgment Day (dd8 470)

=0=Caste Court

They came from the elevator, 14 of the 22 Praxian Elites who comprised the Elder Council, the oldest members of the caste on world that directed their people and administered The Code. Every high caste in the entire system knew them and feared their deft use of The Code to protect and thwart them when they could. Now the room was filling up with black armored behemoths of fierce visage and dynamic power. This group with those present formed the entire 22 member Elder Council of their caste.

They came forward to form a half circle on the deck behind the cuffed individuals and the soldiers and Home Guardsmen facing them.

General Micro stepped closer to Hard Drive. "We're here."

"We have a Caste Court called by Prime. We need you to join us for the panel of judges," Hardie began.

"You can't mean it. You'll never be fair and listen," Galio said. "Twenty-two of you?"

Hardie stepped closer to Galio. "We have 22 senior Praxians in this colony with over 120 others. We've served Cybertron in every war and misadventure since the Revolution against the Quintessans. Are you saying that we don't have any honor?"

"I'm saying that this is unbalanced and a set up," Galio replied hotly.

"You never get the point do you slagger?" a huge mech asked. He stepped from the group to stand next to Hardie. He was big and built like a killing machine which he was. Now he was a father and grandfather reunited with his family and comrades at arms after vorns of eons of running and fighting to save the migration he'd come with. Finding his bond and children here, he was as fierce about the colony as anyone else. "You created The System and when you did you created us. Sad you, today."

The others nodded silently.

=0=Nearby

The human soldiers watched with silent awe as the mechs walked in to gather by their senior caste fellow and leader, Hard Drive. They were heavy mechs and their treads could be felt as that many behemoth individuals came to the call.

All of them wore the black armor of their caste, an armor that was nearly invincible. They also wore the slight tasteful silver embellishments that all of them had along with the familiar familial poems, engravings and unit designations. The Autobrand was old school among them adorning their shoulders and chests of a size no one could mistake. The number and kinds of tattoos and wound scars that they bore was testimony to their courage and determination to serve and protect their people.

"I have called the court, General," Prime said to Harpy who was as old as Hardie but just that much younger that Hardie would default their chieftain. "I wish to make a point."

"And we're the sacrifices," Metilus said bitterly.

"No one is keeping you from doing the right thing," General Micro of Praxus said as he walked over to Raptor who was his great personal friend of long standing. "You could join us in reality."

Piro, his son stood nearby with the recorder in his servos. He was the official record-keeper for their courts now that there was so many on world to help with them however infrequent they were. The Praxians did things by the book and what The Code demanded they provide a record.

The group facing them was stony in their silence.

"What say you, Lord Hard Drive?" Micro asked with the formal salutations.

"I say that we have a court. I say that we broadcast this to not just the migration and all its constituent parts but to the colony and Cybertron itself. We can record it for later broadcast when a ruling from the Elder Council goes over the pros and cons with Prime." In the end, Prime would decide the bigger picture as both sides knew.

Prime nodded. He glanced at Raptor. "Who will speak for these individuals and their argument?"

There was silence, then Ranger, a mech with legal experience and Serazan who was a historian of military history agreed to do so.

"You expect us to take them as our council?" Galio asked with some heat.

"You can do this yourself but its part of The Code to offer council to those facing a court when its not available," Hardie said.

"We have council. Our ship can provide it," Galio said.

"Very well," Hardie said. "Gentlemen," he asked Ranger and Serazan, "Could you do this?"

They both bowed slightly, then walked off with Ironhide who was sergeant-at-arms for the courts now. They disappeared into the elevator. Everyone else stared glacially at each other as they waited.

=0=On a beautiful yacht nearby

"That means us," Springer said. He glanced around. "Who are they coming for?"

A seething silent group of refugees stared at them with daggers, then a small elder stepped forward followed by two younger ones. "I am that individual," he said. "I am Ideal from Capital City and I was a director for regional criminal affairs for the Torus States."

"Its criminal to have an affair?" a Wrecker asked with a smirk. "I best get to jail then."

"You aren't bonded," Lon said to a mech he loved like a father.

No one in the group watching them cracked a smile as the sound of footfalls, heavy ones began to be heard.

Springer glanced at the door. "Any minute three huge mechanisms are coming through that door and it would do you well to mech up. No one is going to miss you if you go to the hospital because you were stupid."

The group glared at him as Serazan and Ranger appeared nearby followed by Ironhide.

Serazan grinned. "Springer. I see you didn't winter kill."

"Nope, General," Springer said as he gripped Serazan's huge servo in a warrior way. "You came for these three." Springer nodded to the elder and younger mechs. "They were someone in some place but I forget because only Polyhex matters in the end."

Laughter greeted that as the two turned toward the three silent wary refugee mechs.

"We need to go," Ranger said. "Follow me." He then walked for the door followed by the three, then Serazan and a silent brooding Ironhide.

It was silent for a moment, then they turned back to the monitor. Nothing had changed on the deck. It was still the same face off between two intractable sides.

=0=In a cage

"I've never seen so many big mechs in one place at one time," a soldier said.

"Get used to it. They're everywhere. This group are ultra soldiers. I'd hate and I can't emphasize it enough how much it would hurt to fight them," Niall Graham said. "This is the highest caste in their culture and even Primes had to obey them in certain circumstances. Raptor," he said pointing out the prankster king of his family, "is about the toughest mech among them but he's a great guy. He's also incredibly smart.

"Those two," he said pointing to Sun and Jack, "are General Hard Drive's younger brothers by a moment or two and they're legends. There's a tattoo on their right temple that indicates that they're Immortals. Its a zigzag line with a pair of dots next to it, sort of like stars and lightning bolts. An Immortal fought in their War for Independence from the Quintessan Tyranny, a time when they were dominated by aliens zillions and zillions of years ago. No one thought any existed until this colony. Hercy is an Immortal and so is Kup."

"They look alike. I suppose that's part of their unit?" a female soldier asked. "They look dangerous as hell."

"They are," Lennox said. "That armor is their identity and anyone who sees them knows who and what they are. They keep it simple with the silver bits here and there but that armor is the best, most expensive and hardest armor anyone has short of a phase sixer. Its their identity marker."

The female nodded. "What's going to happen?"

"The group will have to defend themselves and their desire to keep The System going. Its not going to go well but they won't give in. Prime wants it to die and this is a good, maybe best way to do it," Lennox explained.

"You've been to them before, right?" Jackson Davis asked.

Lennox nodded. "To each one they had. Its been amazing how fucked up this thing is. This usually takes care of it."

"I hope so then," Davis replied.

=0=The deck

The elevator opened as the mechs returned with three others, an elder and two younger mechs. They joined the group gathered.

"I would like you to have a moment to talk about this. I recommend that you consider what I said about the oaths and the mech who did not keep his word. Its the only way you are going to walk into the colony free," Prime said coldly.

"Then you admit that you aren't going to do this properly?" the elder mech, Ideal, stated.

Prime stared at him almost too long. "I am giving you a chance to take the proper path for our people. I do not harbor hope that you will given your selfish disregard for both me and Lord Primus."

They stared at each other silently, then the elder turned to the others. An off line conversation would be held for a few moments. The Praxians were having their own as well.

=0=In the migration

All over the migration the high castes watched the show with dread. It didn't look good at all for them nor the group coming along behind them. There were several thousand of them having kept together at The Great Exodus and the long interval between then and now.

Messages were sent between groups as they watched the dreaded and much hated Praxian Elites get their part of the equation in order. There would be 22 mechs watching and listening to their arguments. It would be extremely tense until then.

=0=A half joor later

The elder, Ideal turned to Prime. "We are ready, as ready as this farce allows."

"Farce," Hard Drive asked. "This is a serious matter. I would hope you would rise to the occasion."

Ideal glared daggers at Hard Drive.

"Very well," Hardie said. He glanced around. "I am Hard Drive, General of the Army, most senior member of my caste and the appointed leader of the Praxus group. I have been called to do my duty by Lord Optimus, the bearer of the Matrix of Leadership and the only remaining legally appointed official of the Cybertronian government that exists.

"We have come to hear the petition. I have called my brothers to this meeting to help find in their discussion some kind of consensus about what to do. It is very evident to us that this is an issue that can't seem to die and has caused principally all of the agony of our species. If it wasn't the Quintessans treating us like slaves then it was the Functionalist Council. When they departed it was The System of Exception next raised to high power by the collaborator class that benefited while the rest of us suffered."

He glanced at everyone in the room. "I am going to tell you the rules and expectations for reaching the level of evidence and testimony that will help you with your petition, both of you," Hardie said as he glanced from Prime to the high castes. "I will only say it once."

=0=TBC 7-5-2022 7-24-2022

Cathartic is a good word for this. :D:D:D Hugs!

Visage: expression.