The Diego Diaries: Caste Court, Caste Schmort (dd7 234)
=0=At the Officer's Formal Dining Room, The Citadel, Iacon, Cybertron
They ate together exchanging news, poking at Ironhide who was staring with one optic at his Auntie. Having taken her old servo out of 'storage' in subspace where she kept it until she could have it made into something artistic, thereby keeping her appendage as well as turning a bad thing into a better one, she was gleefully recounting more body part stories with her brother, Steiner, Sun and Jack who were buds from the orn and Hardie. It seemed that Immortals liked to use body parts, theirs and others as embellishments.
Who knew?
Ironhide wasn't the only one who had the willies. Everyone did to some degree or other.
Lissie was The Femme.
"So what's the court's pleasure for our wonderful mech here?" Lissie asked as she hugged Ironhide's shoulders.
Ironhide glanced from her to the others. "Yeah, Appa. What's the shit show for tomorrow?"
Snickers rounded the table. That is, they did from everyone but a smoldering Rockwell.
"Well, since you asked so quaintly," Hardie replied as he beamed at his great great or so grandson. "I think Temple is mandatory but all is not lost. Rockwell, here, is going to join you. When is that, Turbine?"
"We gather at the Well at 0530 joors in the morning. You can't be late. We need all the voices together at the right times in the right harmony," Turbine said as everyone glanced at Ironhide and Rockwell.
"Oh, joy," Ironhide said as he fought to keep a grin off his face. He loved his family.
"Then Ironhide comes with me," Turbine said. "I want you to study the first five chapters of The Chronicles for tomorrow. We can discuss it when I tour the camps north of Nova Cronum."
"Five chapters?" Ironhide asked almost with a whine.
"I could make it ten but I'm going to ease you into this," Turbine said.
"You can have my copy if it helps. I underlined and highlighted all the important stuff as you well know," Alor said with a smirk as he held Halo. "Don't say I didn't do anything for ya."
"I won't," Ironhide said as he unsubbed Ratchet's small old copy. "Thanks, maybe," he said as he handed it to Ratchet.
Ratchet took it, then decided to twist the knife for his impertinence. "I wonder how many orns my appas and ammas didn't eat to get me this little book?"
It was stone silent a moment, then Raptor snickered. "I heard about this game. I also heard that Ironhide never wins."
"He plays it with Springer and Drift. Polyhex mid caste and Kaon low. He never will, either," Ratchet said with a chuckle.
Raptor glanced at Rockwell who looked like he had some animation at last. "What's on your processor, Rockwell? You seem to find the game funny, too."
Rockwell gazed coldly at Raptor, then Ratchet. "It is."
The high castes in the room automatically glanced at the mid and low among them. It was a defensive reflex that most who had mixed families in the orn automatically did. Alor, Steiner, Trooper, Lissie and Scout where mid castes. Ratchet was low and everyone else the highest of the high. The aides that worked with the generals and commanders on world were oddly enough high and mid caste Autobots of some duration in the service.
Only Ratchet was low.
"Then tell me," Raptor said with a tight grin. "Let me in on the joke."
Rockwell stared at Raptor, then Hardie.
The rest of the room was neutral as they watched what could be an entertaining, educational or medical moment. As they did, Hard Drive put his ped on Ironhide's under the table for a second.
Ironhide glanced at his Appa. A slight negative movement of Hardie's helm told Ironhide what he needed to know, so he girded his guts for whatever might happen.
Appa had spoken.
"Come on," Raptor coaxed. "You know you wanna."
"Given that you have all the power and I don't at the moment, however funny you might find that, I don't think telling you what I really think is wise," Rockwell said, ever the slagging lawyer.
Raptor glanced at Hardie, then the others. "Since the quorum is here, what do you say about letting Rockwell have his moment? All in favor raise your servos."
Everyone did including Ratchet who elbowed Ironhide to raise his.
Raptor nodded at them. "Let it be said, therein, that this is protected space and all that's said here is protected. So say I. How do you say?"
The court members nodded. "Aye," they said.
It was silent.
Then Rockwell leaned forward to speak.
:Whatever he says, let it go, Ironhide: Ratchet said off line. :I've heard worse from better:
:Slagger: Ironhide replied as he took Ratchet's servo under the table and squeezed it gently.
:Nothing he says matters. Let your elders try to save him: Ratchet replied as he squeezed back.
"I know that your family was immensely wealthy. I know you had houses and apartments and all of your family went to the best schools. University educations, access to the highest levels of society and opportunity … how does that not make you hypocrites?" Rockwell said.
Hardie and the others glanced at each other, then Raptor sat back as he stared at his father with a grin. "Yeah. How does that work, Atar?"
Hardie grinned at his irrepressible son. "Well, we didn't steal it if that helps. We made it the hard way. We invested in companies that weren't fraggers and we didn't own ten of everything. You do know about the foundation that Stephonia and her family created? The one that made ethical investments and funded all manner of good ideas. That one?" he asked.
"The Avatar Foundation. We endowed a major share of it and invested there as a family to ensure it continued," Delphi said.
Everyone of Ironhide's family nodded.
"That one invested in the poor, built homes for them, paid lobbyists to speak on their behalf, took care of the homeless and orphaned and in the end when the revolution came, the leadership went to prison. I do remember that half of what you gave to them was invested and half was spent on charitable projects. There were also investments in companies to bend them into making housing for the poor and homeless. We educated gifted individuals and paid for teachers and doctors to go into the ghettos. All of the foundation did and we were happy to be a part of that. In short, we had the impression of greater wealth than we had because it was tied up in Stephonia's foundation. It was what we wanted, to use what we had to make things better for everyone," Hardie said as Delphi nodded.
"We had money, sure. It was easy to invest in things that were firm and couldn't turn to dust. Our homes were investments and we don't deny it. We helped Stephonia and Rabbet build their foundation and used our homes off and on as collateral for different projects. The things we had were tools, Rockwell, for the greater good. We don't deny we had wealth. We do state that we didn't hoard it or use it like weapons. I suppose you're right about the impression of hypocrisy but I'll put our family's universal declaration about what we would do with it against yours," Delphi said. "Unlike your family and almost every high caste we ever met, our family, all of us never forgot what it felt like to be slaves."
"Your family built dynastic ties with Sentinel and the others. You didn't look back," Alor said.
Rockwell sat back. "Why should we? Sentinel came from a distinguished family and was a war hero. Being his nephew by adoption was an honor."
"What did you really know about Sentinel and his family? Especially the war hero part?" Hard Drive asked.
"Enough," Rockwell said coldly as he stared with greatly suppressed anger at the general.
"I knew Sentinel's great grandfather, Tunis. He was an information bot who oversaw a number of factories. Bots dreaded him because he was a lackey of the Quintessans. He saw it as a path upward and because that's how he handled his fear. I can forgive the last part but not the first. He'd take a dislike to someone, make up a story about them, then that bot disappeared," Hardie said. "He was 'taken care of' during the uprising. His body parts were never found. The rest of the family joined the Functionalists when they took over and worked in the bureaus that collated and collected information about everyone.
"Did you know they could hack into your optics and audials to spy on you without you knowing it? His grandfathers on two sides of his family worked at that and that's how they came together as a family when one son bonded with the other's."
"I'd have to believe you to accept that and I don't. You're a well known caste traitor to everyone," Rockwell said.
"You think so?" Hardie said as Raptor's optics narrowed.
Turbine put his ped on Raptor's just in case.
"I know so. Sentinel Prime could no more be anything but honorable if he tried." Rockwell leaned forward on his elbows. "He was a real mech, a real general and he deserved the Matrix, not Orion Pax." He spat those two words out and it was a testimony to the age and degree that this group had rehabilitated hardcore high castes that Rockwell still had all his appendages. He sat back with satisfaction.
"Sentinel murdered Nominus Prime."
Everyone glanced at Ratchet.
"Everyone knows that. He wanted the Matrix so he had him shot, went to his hospital berth and took the Matrix from him while he lay dying. When he did, he saw that it was a fake. Then he murdered Nominus in his anger," Ratchet finished. "Everyone knows that."
"Liar."
"It's part of the court record during the Primal Hearing with Special Circumstances that was had for his crimes," Raptor replied as Blackjack nodded. Both Blackjacks. "The Pantheon agreed with the witnesses."
Rockwell stared at them. "Sometimes you have to do hard things to keep Cybertron safe and secure."
"Murder?" Ratchet asked.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand," Rockwell said.
Alor's ped and Ratchet's pressed down on Ironhide's. He was livid at Rockwell but it hurt. He glared at both of them as Ratchet squeezed his servo.
"I expect you wouldn't. What was your university experience like? Where did you go?" Ratchet asked.
"Why?" Rockwell asked with wariness.
"Just curiosity," Ratchet asked. "I was wondering where you got all your wisdom."
It was silent, then Rockwell leaned forward again. "I attended the University of Capital City. I took a degree in law and government earning good marks." He sat back staring at Ratchet with loathing.
"That's nice. I attended the Medical School at the University of Iacon. I took a degree with honors in medicine. I did my residency at the Military Hospital in Praxus and took an advanced degree in emergency medicine there, also with honors. I did my follow up practicums at the Matrix Children's Teaching Hospital in Polyhex for certifications in surgery and orthopedics, children's, then attained advanced degrees in femme medicine at the University of Altihex before reporting to the Military Hospital of The Citadel in Iacon where I became director of the whole slagging thing within two years.
"That doesn't count the training I took all along and the vorns of battlefield experience I got in the war. You remember the war, right? I was named the Director for Autobot Medicine and Triage, essentially the Chief Medical Officer of the Autobots before the name change three years later. Just so you can know about my ability to cipher things."
Rockwell stared at him. "Medicine. Computers can do what you do."
Ratchet chuckled. "Okay. How about I stick a machete into you and find a medical computer?"
Rockwell sat back with disgust. "How about you machete yourself."
"Tell me about your war experience, infant," Sun said. He glanced at Ratchet. "I knew you were a prodigy but that was impressive, Ratchet, by the way."
"Thanks, Sun," Ratchet said with a dazzling smile. "I try."
Snickers rounded the room, then all optics were back on Rockwell.
"We're waiting," Jack said as he sat beside his brother. They looked like two Ironhide Buddhas as they sat together.
"I never served. Not everyone had to," Rockwell said. "That's the beauty of The System. Everyone had their place and everyone did what they were supposed to do. We were meant to rule and you were meant to serve," he said as he glanced at Ratchet. "It amazes me that this seems so hard."
Blackjack leaned forward. His arms were crossed over his chassis. "It isn't hard to tell yourself that when you have no stones. You didn't serve but lots of high castes did. All of us did when we could've taken the low road and become parasitic leaches like you and your family. We didn't. We cared. We served. We always will," he said, then glanced at his grandfather. "That is, everyone but the little ones now."
Raptor nodded. "Damned straight. It's interesting how they divide that up when they say what he said. Everyone had their place. How is it that almost every high caste I ever met made sure that their 'place' was cushy and well paying without the inconvenience of bullets flying and the prospect of being shot?"
Rockwell stared at the two of them. "My job was to lead."
"Where?" Lissie asked. "Your caste led us off the cliff into Armageddon. You seem to have trouble attaching reality to your tale. Your caste made all the decisions. Your caste had all the power. How is it that you take credit when things go right but when you frag them up with your stupid slag you don't? Why don't you own the things you did? Is it because you see them as shameful? I will never understand how you throw blame on others when no one but you and yours owned all the power."
Rockwell stared at her, then Hardie. "The one who owns the Armageddon is Optimus Prime. He's the one who's responsible for everything that has happened to us and to Cybertron."
It was silent a moment, then Raptor leaned forward.
=0=TBC 3-18-2020 3-18-2020 4-9-2020