The Diego Diaries: Sun Dance (dd7 158)
=0=Night at the prison
Ratchet transformed on the fly, landed, then jogged to the command center where the prison was being managed. It was big anyway even after the locals were freed to house up the high castes and others who were being rounded up for interrogations and the sorting out of possible crimes. It was a huge penned area and next to it was a growing number of new pens to hold everyone being brought here.
He had caught the squeal and came, hurrying in as Commandant of the situation to see what was happening. It would appear that two of the larger newer pens with high caste mechs separated from their families were 'rioting'. That is, they were screaming, throwing rocks and testing the fence which was highly electrified.
"So ..." Ratchet said as he stopped beside Inferno and Red Alert.
"The slaggers are throwing a fuss. What do you want to do? Shoot a few of them as an object lesson to the others?" Red asked with his patented psycho readiness to do WHATEVER IT TOOK.
Ratchet grinned. "I'll hold that in reserve. Right now, I'm going out to take a look. Is there enough security here to make sure they stay inside their cages?"
"We brought in enough, all of them well versed in containment. Its part of the fire department's training as well as civil emergency services. All of them are veteran soldiers," Inferno said.
"Okay," Ratchet said. "Keep things going here. I'm going to take a look-see." He walked to the door then hurried down the roads that led to a spotlight inundated area where the noise grew as he got closer. It and another pen next to it was surrounded three deep by security as other pens watched the show gauging the response perhaps to make one of their own at some point.
Ratchet pulled up then looked around. He walked to Coleus, the assistant warden on Mars who was expert at emergency prisons, jails and containments. "What's the situation, Coli?" Ratchet asked.
He glanced up from his data pad to Ratchet. "We have a lot of troublemakers here and we're flagging them. I think they're just testing us to see what kind of response we make about their behavior. Don't get too close. We have to use barriers to keep the rocks they're throwing from hitting us."
Ratchet nodded. "Any ring leaders? Anyone who takes responsibility?"
"Not yet. They're just rabble rousing together like a mob but I think there's a leader in there. I do believe its that mech, the big one with red and white embellishments on the blue pattern."
Ratchet turned to look at him, a very big high caste mech who looked like he could rip things apart with his bare servos. He was raging at the front of the mob in his containment which housed at the moment hundreds of mechs of all ages. Behind him a big pen held femmes, children and babies, the elderly and the infirm. They were watching the show with varying degrees of emotions on their faces.
Ratchet looked for someone he knew, someone who he might of worked upon in the past. At the moment he didn't see anyone so he turned back to the mechs. "Give me a list of their transponders. Can you do that?"
"I have seventy-two identified by transponder," Coleus said as he sent the list to Ratchet by WIFI.
Ratchet received it, went down it, then pulled up tech he used only in the most precise of conditions.
Like now.
He concentrated upon it, added the list to the intake interface then waited. It would take a moment to run the list, find the owner in the mob before him, then give him access to other features that made this tech *HIGHLY* illegal in the empire. He didn't let anyone know he had it but on three occasions over his long life it had done good service for Ratchet.
They threw rocks that they dug up and flung like missiles. They struck the shields that the soldiers held before them, full body shields that were common prison issue for staff. It was dark all around them but the lights made things garish and overly illuminated. The sound was really getting on his nerves when the tech signaled that it was ready.
Ratchet concentrated a moment then sent the signals. A message went out to seventy-two individuals who froze in place when they received them. Ratchet watched them as they read the message then almost as one step back as they dropped the rocks in their servos. Then he initiated the tech. Seventy-two mechs fell down into stasis in heaps all over the pen.
It was startling to those inside, those close to the group who fell. They stopped their yelling a moment, stared at those down, then scrambled backward. They stared at the area and sky around them frantically searching for the source of the event obviously believing that those on the ground had been shot. They hadn't. They had been dropped into stasis by Ratchet.
There was chaos a moment as those who saw the mechs lying on the ground turned to run backwards. Those around them were shoved back until everyone stopped the noise and ranting to look at the sight of seventy-two mechs lying where they fell on the ground. It was instantly silent.
The guards in the front peered through their shields then glanced backward and into the sky. Ratchet pushed his way through them to the front where he stared at the mob who was silently staring back not only here but in the next pen over. It was a ghastly kind of silence laced with fear and uncertainty.
"Who is in charge of this?" Ratchet asked.
No one spoke up. He looked at the big white and blue mech pointed out earlier. "Who are you?"
The mech didn't answer. The others didn't as well until someone in the back shouldered his way through. He stared at the mechs on the ground, a mech of some stature who read attorney to Ratchet. "What happened to them? Did you shoot them?"
"No," Ratchet said. "Who are you?"
He almost didn't answer, then he did. "I'm Dual of Capital City."
"I'm Ratchet of Iacon and I've been given command of this slag fest. I want everyone here to drop those rocks and step back. I'm sending mechs in to drag these slaggers out and if you get in the way we'll drop the entire lot of you." Ratchet stepped closer. "Any questions?"
The mechs stared at Ratchet, some with fear, others with seething hatred or concern. Dual stepped closer. "We don't acknowledge your authority."
"I don't care," Ratchet said.
"We were living here just fine before you came. You don't have authority over us. You are creating a very great crime here," Dual said.
"Actually, we're preventing one from continuing. Somehow, I take you for an attorney," Ratchet said.
"I am. I am Dual of Harper, Vanity and Dual of Iacon and Capital City," he said calmly.
It was odd to Ratchet how calm he was. "Then you know given how you worked with the government that the Charters, Record of the First Convocation of the Congregation and other documents give Prime every right, authority and privilege to find, support, free, care for and attend to every Cybertronian who lives, will live and even lived. Don't tell me that you don't agree," Ratchet said.
"I don't disagree with that. I do disagree whether or not Prime is still Prime," Dual said.
"Well, given that he still bears the Matrix and has routine contact with the Powers, it should give you some ease to know that you're slagging wrong about that, too," Ratchet replied. "Of course, when you go through your Primal Hearing with Special Circumstances you can ask the Pantheon for clarification yourself."
They stared at Ratchet, all of them with differing reactions to that news. Dual walked closer, as close as he dared. "I would like to speak to you privately. I would like to bring two colleagues."
"I would love to punt your sorry afts into stasis." He glanced at Coleus. "I want their transponders. I have some damage to repair later on from this afternoon's shootouts that prevents me from scanning them now." He glanced at Dual. "Bring them forward."
Dual signaled two mechs to step from the crowd and they did. They looked older, immensely well to do and smart. They were scanned, Ratchet got their transponders, then they were let out, cuffed and pulled to one side.
Ratchet looked at the others. "If you slaggers don't settle down I'll call down a ship to shoot you all with a null ray. If you never were shot with a null ray you don't know what it means to want to die and never wake up. Does anyone of you want to argue with me?"
No one spoke. The sound of rocks falling to the ground could be heard.
Ratchet turned to Roadbuster who was standing next to him in the front. "I need your null, Roadie," he asked quietly.
Roadie handed him a handgun with the distinctive null muzzle.
Ratchet turned to the group, picked a particularly belligerent mech then fired. It hit him, he groaned then fell to the ground in a near fetal position. Ratchet scanned him. "He's going to live but he's going to hate it. That's what a null ray does. Who else wants some?" he asked glancing at the other pen then this one.
No one did and some stepped back.
"Good." Ratchet handed Roadie back his gun. "I know Kup's ship has null weapons and they're stationed here for the duration. If they act up again call me and I'll call a strike in with Hercy."
Roadie nodded. "I hope so."
Ratchet quashed a grin then glanced at the three cuffed mechs. "Move it to the Control Center. I'll follow."
The guards led them away as Ratchet turned to Coleus. "Get everyone's transponders then make a message to send them to me. I'll call for them after these slaggers get through their conversation." He looked at the mobs in two giant pens. "No more. I got shot. I'm in no mood. I hope you understand how I'm not interested in being nice if you riot."
No one spoke so he walked back the way he came reaching the Center in moments. He walked inside, paused to recheck the situation, then walked to the conference room where they waited. He walked in with a couple of techs who would record the conversation. He sat then stared at them. "What do you have to say to me that I want to hear right now?"
They stared at him then Dual introduced the other two. They were famous lawyers who advised the government, the last being Sentinel Prime. "We want to know what is going to happen here."
"Well, it would appear that you ran a mini Cybertron during the Functionalist Tyranny here. It would appear that you instituted slavery and called it The System, harming in the most extreme manner literally millions. Frankly, I'm tired of this kind of slag myself but that's just me," Ratchet said. "Given that The System is outlawed by Primal Decree and that you've not only broken that law but dozens and hundreds of others … slavery is not a negotiable item, you are being arrested to stand for your crimes."
"They aren't crimes. The System is legal, lawful, historical and culturally appropriate. It's the backbone of our greatness," one of the others, Lateral said.
"Its a broken record with you isn't it. How many times did I hear this from your kind?" Ratchet asked.
The other mech, Future frowned. "What do you mean by 'your kind'?" he asked.
"Let me fill you in on a few things. The System is banned not just by Optimus but by the Pantheon Themselves. That view and command is supported not just by Them but also by the Matrix, Primus and The One."
They stared at Ratchet a moment then the three burst into laughter.
=0=TBC 12-15-19
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