Duty and Deceit
Chapter 45
Trials in Judgement
Technically, somewhere else in the world, it is still Monday, so that counts, right?
Disclaimer: You all should know by now... but I do not - sadly - own the Transformers in any way, shape, or form. I only own my OCs and my plot-lines. My plot lines do not include anything shown in the Transformers: Prime episodes, though as I'm sure you've noticed, I use them and adapt them to fit TB's story.
As for my late update: The excuses are the norm. School got in the way of typing, then my computer decided to randomly delete half the chapter, then the chapter turned out to be waaaaayyy too long, so I had to cut in half, then I was sick, and... well, yeah. You get the point...
On to the story!
She sighed deeply, rolled her shoulder wheels roughly, and popped her neck struts into alignment. Her fingers flew swiftly over the many glyphs of her terminal, adding encryptions on the high-ranks' reports before filing each one in its proper place. She sighed again, finishing the file she was working on and leaning back in her chair.
Five orns she'd been working on this. The femme vented and streched her spinal struts again, minimizing the long list of reports still waiting to be processed and checking for any new memorandums, important orders, or prioritized tasks. A rather substantial, heavily encrypted Autobot transmission had just come in with orders to decode it as quickly as possible.
The spy grinned and swivelled her finials, leaning forward excitedly in her seat. Finally something worth her while.
Four joors later she glared at the final encryption on the transmission that was significantly better programmed than the rest of the code. It was riddled with reduncancies that made the pattern itself nigh on indecipherable to most programmers.
She cocked her helm for a moment before it seemed to click perfectly into place in her processors. Her yellow optics went wide as she set to madly clicking in glyphs at a frenzied pace, exclaiming, "Oh... Oh! Oh! Yes!"
A couple of the Vehicons stationed by her glanced over at her with bemused expressions. The oldest of them, smirked knowingly, drawling, "I take it you hacked the code?"
The Prussian blue and black femme stood up swiftly, slapping her hands on her desk with a victorious air punch, replying smugly, "Yes, yes I did."
She whirled around with the datapad containing the level one priority message from the Prime in hand, giving a start as she very nearly crashed into a slightly larger-than-normal Vehicon holding a cube of Energon in his claws.
"I brought you Energon, Major." Voltage said quickly, extending the minorly off-color Energon. At her askance glance at the cube, the Vehicon grinned, baring his sharp fangs. "I took the liberty of putting a pump of sweet-En in it, along with silver flecks... I figured you hadn't refuelled since the last time I came by. By the way, Makeshift said to let you know that 'the Wave' is angry... whatever that means."
She smiled at the mech's consistent thoughtfulness. Honestly, she'd probably in med-bay for aEnergon deprivation on an ornly basis if it weren't for him, Skyquake, and Nightracer either bringing her Energon or dragging her off to the mess-hall. Between the three of them though, she mostly stayed fuelled.
She just didn't have time to take away from her work for such mundane things as fuelling and recharging.
"Aren't we fancy today?" The femme commented after taking a slow sip of the specially mixed Energon. "Tastes amazing, Voltage, thank you."
Tossing the Vehicon another unseen grin, the masked spy strode towards the CI head's office with a confident tilt to her helm, downing half the silver-sweet Energon in a single gulp before flinging the door open with a dramatic flare.
"I have that transmission decoded like you asked, sir," She told Soundwave crisply, passing him the datapad. When he took it, she waited long enough for her boss to read the transmission before adding, "Also, I traced it to its source... Actually a mech, not a base, which is part of why I was delayed in bringing it to you, seeing as the source's mobility threw off the calculations. He goes by the name 'Blaster', and appears to be a relatively new recruit. He most likely had no idea what his own transmission said."
She didn't mention that she'd only traced it because she had gotten bored half-way through decoding it. After all, having it traced was a very good thing. And by the contents of this transmission, which declared the exact coordinates of the Autobot's center of operations where they were building what they called 'The Ark', this success may very well earn her a promotion in the near future.
"Very good..." Soundwave drawled in Megatron's voice, "Yes... very good." He read through the transmission again, before waving a hand curtly to signify her dismal.
Bowing lightly, Terabyte spun on her heel and left the tidy office swiftly, a smug smirk resting on her masked face-plates. If she wasn't mistaken, she had just made the 'Wave's day.
Skyquake sat in stony silence, just waiting for the call to judgement.
Beside him, Cliffjumper had been sitting in stoic vigil with him, neither mech having moved from where they had returned to sitting against the wall on the floor beside the berth. However, at around midnight, the red mech had fallen into recharge and was now slumped against the green jet's shoulder, growling every now and then in disturbed sleep.
He glared at the Autobot warrior as the mech shifted, pressing into his spiked shoulder with a whimper of his engine. He sighed deeply, his ruby optics narrowing. About a million times already he had considered simply shoving the other mech off to recharge against the floor.
And yet, he hadn't.
Skyquake huffed, twitching his wing that the other mech was crushing against the wall to no avail. Finally, he growled and pushed the red mech so that he was seated upright. And for a grand total of half a klick, he stayed put before sliding back down to rest his horned helm on the jet's shoulder.
He checked his chronometer. 0440. The jet gave another long-suffering sigh, resigning himself to this being but a small part of his punishment. He hadn't recharged all night; a couple more groons wouldn't kill him.
Pulling out an obsidian puzzle box from his subspace, Skyquake fiddled with it absent-mindedly. Terabyte would laugh at his futile attempts to open the intricate little multi-faceted figure. She had given it to him vorns ago, just a short while before he had left for Earth. She told him it had something special in it for him.
He had tried for groons after she'd given it to him, staying up all the night cycle long trying to open it. After coming to Earth, he spent much of his waking quartex studying the intricate glyphs that described precious memories of their time knowing each other, from the rotation they met to the rotation she'd given it to him. He'd tried opening it, again and again, whiling away the joors.
Yes, she would laugh at him. His inability to open her gift would amuse her to no end, and finally he would ask her to show him how to open it and she would unlock it in astroseconds, the merry twinkle in her optics mocking his vorns of effort.
But by now, he had grown to consider the glyphs perfectly carved into the small obsidian facet more important than the contents. The time and peace that reading it and playing with it had given him in the long orns of isolation had been a leading factor to his remaining sane.
He smiled softly at the intricate puzzle, tracing his thumb over each glyph that he knew by spark, allowing the warm memories inscribed to chase away the cold orns of solitude from his thoughts.
He awoke with a start to the sound of a sparkling, twinkling laughter that ran over his audials like the sweetest music. Skyquake frowned minutely, checking his chronometer, which informed him that a joor had passed and it was now nearly 0900.
He hadn't intended on recharging. In fact, he hadn't even felt himself slip into it. But apparently he had fallen asleep, since a joor just passed without his knowledge. His audials focused in on the sweet laughter filling the cell, his growing alertness bringing him more aware to his surroundings.
Surroundings that included Cliffjumper still leaning against his shoulder and Terabyte sitting on the corner of the berth just above him. Surroundings that also included a very much still-locked obsidian gift in his hands. A still-locked obsidian gift that had been given to him a bit over seven vorns ago by the very femme whose amused laughter had woken him.
Ruby optics opened slowly as Skyquake gave Terabyte a drowsy, sheepish smirk. Which of course only made her giggle more.
"Morning." He rumbled, her contagious giggling beginning to pull his smirk a little wider. "Have you just come to laugh at me?"
"Perhaps." She replied cheekily, nudging his shoulder with her pointy black foot. Her optics gleamed with the merriment that he'd known they would, her tone suggesting that she was only just restraining her laughter. "I see my present has kept you busy over the vorns... Ever gotten it open yet?"
He gave her a playfully dark look before grinning widely, unable to even feign displeasure with her for any amount of time, "Nope."
Terabyte seemed just a tiny bit disappointed that he'd never found out what she'd given him, but at the same time, the knowledge seemed to delight her. He knew she could see just how much it had grown to mean to him over the vorns and how much of an anchor it had been to him. She grinned back down at him.
"Good." At his confused expression, the little femme elaborated, "Now I'll get to see your face whenever you do manage to open it."
He smirked, pulling on a pouty face, "You mean you aren't going to help me open it?"
"Nope!" She replied cheerily, laughing again, "Not yet, anyhow."
"Maybe in another seven vorns?" He asked wryly, already hearing her reply in his helm as he turned his attention back to the deep purplish-black box.
She hummed, chirping, "Maybe."
After a while of watching him fiddle with it, Terabyte said slyly, "Y'know, it's kinda cute the way you put up with Cliff 'charging on you." She paused for a moment to stare at the red mech recharging on his shoulder, smirking in a way that made Skyquake's optics narrow as she went on, "You do realize that he's been drooling fluids on you, right?"
"What?!" He roared, looking down at his arm indignantly, disgust writing itself on his features as his optics locked onto the trail of condensate mixed with lubricant that had run down his arm without his noticing.
At Terabyte's snickering, Skyquake growled, "It's not funny!"
Of course, that only made her laugh more, giving him another friendly kick in the shoulder.
"Is too." She retorted, her shoulder wheels shaking with mirth. He smiled softly as he realized that her armor was completely relaxed, lying at a more natural angle against her small frame. "For all that you two pretend to despise each other and try to kill each other, Cliff trusts you. And I think you do too."
His lip curled upwards at the idea, turning his gaze to scrutinize the annoying, leaking glitch, "Trust? Me, trust this arrogant walking malfunction? Very funny, Terabyte."
She grinned, shoving his helm in mock annoyance, "Seriously, though, just look at the mech. Does he look even the least bit concerned?"
Skyquake glared at him shrugging his wings and shoulders with a noncommittal grunt, purposefully disturbing the mech, making him shift to get comfortable again. "Meh."
Terabyte just beamed down at him, pulling three fresh cubes of Energon from her subspace, each one a different size to fuel the mech intended. She handed him the largest one. "Anyway, I brought us breakfast."
A rustling of metal alerted them both to Cliffjumper's waking, but Skyquake noticed with a growing warmth in his spark that Terabyte didn't tense up like she normally would have, and her armor only flared back out half as far as she normally kept it. Perhaps he wasn't the only one who was beginning to dare trust.
"Errrrghl." The red mech groaned, his sky blue optics opening blearily.
Skyquake watched with a small level of amusement as the Autobot came to, his face-plates clearly displaying the mech's gradual return to consciousness. The sky blue optics were dull with contentedness for an astrosecond longer before the warrior seemed to realize just who he was leaned up against, his optics brightening and widening as the mech bolted upright with a priceless expression of shock, horror, and disgust, along with a touch of confusion.
"Errrrrgh." Cliffjumper repeated, wiping his face with one hand, groaning now in dismay, "That's messed up on so many levels... It's too early for this.
"Actually, it's 0925." Terabyte piped in helpfully, adding, "I brought breakfast."
Skyquake passed the mech his cube of Energon, glaring at him. "You got fluids on me."
"Shove me off next time I pass out on you then." The red mech retorted, cocking an optic ridge and the little femme's light mood.
"I wouldn't have to shove you off if you hadn't have passed out on me in the first place."
Terabyte sat on the edge of the berth sipping her Energon to hide her smirk. She wasn't entirely sure why she was in such a good mood, given recent events and the events planned for later this day. For now she would blame it on her need to recharge. And the fact that she'd decided to eat a few of the silver drops Ratchet had given her for her sparking day.
She told herself she'd only eat one... By the fact that she only had five left out of ten, she figured that that maybe hadn't happened though. So she was both exhausted and had candy running through her systems. She would calm down soon enough; most likely at the sight of the Prime, but for now she would enjoy it.
She giggled quietly at the two mechs' arguing, choosing to put in her portion, "Would now be a bad time to mention that you guys both had this perfectly at peace expressions when I came in and found you both asleep?"
"Yes!" They both growled in perfect unison, making her grin wider. Skyquake tossed her an annoyed look, "Not funny..."
"I think it's hilarious." The little two-wheeler replied smugly, shrugging, "Also, I think you guys owe me some gratitude. After all, I could have just left you both like that for another joor... You should be especially grateful, Sky, Cliff might just have rusted a hole through your arm by the time you bolt-helms came to."
Cliffjumper snickered at that, seeming to shrug off his annoyance. "So, what's got you so cheery, Short Stuff?"
"Don't call me that, Little Mech." She grinned wider as he looked shocked that she knew Skyquake's nickname for him. Of course she knew. Best friends share all. "As for my mood, I really haven't got a clue..."
"Too many silver drops and a need for sleep, probably." Skyquake said with a shrug.
She laughed, "You know me all too well."
He cocked an optic ridge at her, his ruby optics gleaming, "Always."
The femme was about to come back with more teasing when her private comm. pinged internally. Her optic ridges twitched downwards in mild concern before furrowing in minute fear when she saw who it was. Her spark pulsed a little faster, her scarlet optics dimming as she answered the comm.
/Yes, lord Prime?/ She bit her lip and quickly amended before he could rebuke her yet again, /My apologies, sir... I truly am trying... The habit is deeply ingrained./
/I understand, Terabyte./ His glyphs depicted a consoling tone, underlined with sadness that she still feared him as she did. /I merely called to check in on Skyquake and Cliffjumper... I assume you are in the brig?/
Her frown deepened and at the two mechs' concerned and curious gazes, she turned her back partially to them to gain a little more privacy in her conversation. She sighed; it wasn't as if the Prime didn't have a feed to his HUD continually informing him of her location due to the tracker still embedded under her protoform, anchored on her spinal struts.
She supposed the Autobot must have thought it courteous to enquire.
/Affirmative./
/Good./ The mech on the other side of the line seemed to hesitate, his glyphs appearing more slowly onto her HUD, /How... How are they faring?/
Flicking her finials, it took a notable effort not to glance over at the two mechs in question. A muted clicking brought a small upward tilt to her lips as Skyquake continued to work with the intricate obsidian puzzle. /I believe my presence has aided in lightening their spirits./
Detecting in her tone that she was leaving something off, the Prime prompted her to continue, /... And?/
The femme shifted her armor, having flared it back out all the way when the comm. had first come through. Her left finial gave a tell-tale backwards twitch as she replied tersely, /I don't believe now to be an appropriate time to answer that query, Prime./
Silence and emptiness drug on for nearly a klick, the continual buzzing in her helm being the only indication that he hadn't cut off the connection. Her spark pounded against its casing and her vents came a little quicker. The only reason her fans didn't kick on was because she'd shut them off.
/Understood.../ He paused for a moment, and she knew instantly that the Matrix-bearer had seen straight through her, yet he didn't mention it. Instead he finished cautiously, /I trust your judgement, Terabyte. Please bring Cliffjumper and Skyquake to the conference hall as soon as you are able./
/Yes, sir. We will be there within the breem./
/Thank you, Terabyte. Optimus out./
"Was that Optimus?" Cliffjumper asked as soon as she'd turned to face them with brightened optics again.
Terabyte nodded slowly, giving the red mech a weird look, "How did you know?"
He looked down, shrugging a shoulder and smiling a cheerless little smile, "You were terrified from the minute he commed you. And I figured, Prime's the only one you're still scared of."
She hopped down from the berth and downed her Energon with an annoyed quirk to her lip-plates, making her snap the mask up to hide her displeasure. She muttered sourly, "Well. Glad to know I'm so utterly transparent."
Of course, she knew she was perfectly transparent when her mask was down. That was why she had the mask to start with. Her face was too expressive for her own good.
"Finish your Energon and let's go." The ex-Con said curtly, her happy, relaxed mood wiped from her. "The Prime is expecting us in half a breem in the main conference hall."
She looked around at the half circle of Autobots, each seated with stiff posture and even stiffer expressions as they glared at the two mechs standing a few paces behind the empty podium. Their helms were down; their hands locked in limited-mobility stasis cuffs. Skyquake's wings were tilted down in a way that made her back hurt just to think about it.
Terabyte held her visible expression neutral, but under her mask her anxiety would have been more than obvious. As it were, her armor had without her knowledge pressed itself tightly against her protoform, making her seem tiny and terrified where she sat at the end of the crescent table, clasping her hands firmly in her lap.
The three humans each sat cross-legged on the table in front of their guardians, looking a little nervous under the tension that filled the air.
Ratchet sat far across from Terabyte, glaring at the table, refusing to look up at anyone. He seemed annoyed that he was not being judged for his actions under the synth-En as well.
"Let us begin." Optimus said quietly, though his voice seemed to echo in the silence. "Here stand Lieutenant Cliffjumper and Defector Skyquake; accused of theft, endangering their team and cause, insubordination, abandoning base to attack the enemy without leave, the inhumane torturing of another Cybertronian, and first degree murder. Speak now in your defense if you will."
Cliffjumper and Skyquake both let out a synchronized sigh, but neither made any move to defend their actions. There wasn't really a way to deny that they had done these things, nor did they have any desire to if there were.
The Prime gave them a good half a breem to raise their defense before accepting that none would come. "So be it. Portrayed on the datapads before each of you are the eyewitness accounts and medical reports regarding the incident. As friend of the accused, superior officer in charge of the accused, and Prime, I hereby declare both of the accused guilty of all charges. Cliffjumper, if you would step up to the podium?"
She glanced down at the datapad, quickly looking away when she saw that the medical reports were primarily visual. A slight shiver ran down her struts, making her shutter her optics in an attempt to close out the images.
"I object." Ratchet said firmly, still glowering down at the table. The medic went on, his tone bitter, "I object to my not being included in this trial for my own transgressions."
"Old friend, no long-lasting harm came of your actions, and your judgement was-"
"My judgement was just as impaired as theirs! Yet they are sentenced, while I get no more than a friendly suggestion and well wishes!" The medic roared, rising from his seat in anger. "If no one else will press charges, then I will myself! It is neither fair, nor right for you to leave me unpunished."
"Ratchet, old friend," Optimus started, though the medic never let him finish.
Turquoise optics blaring with a challenge to try and stop him, Ratchet said formally, stepping behind the podium, shoving a confused Cliffjumper out of the way in the process. "I, Ratchet, chief medical officer of the Autobot army, charge myself - the accused - of illegal experimentation of potentially dangerous substances, torturing another Cybertronian for personal gain, insubordination, assaulting a superior officer, attacking the enemy without leave, and endangering the lives of members of this team." He paused for a moment, daring any to deny his charges before continuing. "With no defense or objections to be given, I declare myself guilty of all charges to be sentenced without bias as my Prime deems just."
Now the medic's hands gripped the edges of the podium, awaiting with visible trepidation, but no regret, his judgement.
Optimus Prime sighed harshly, his lip-plates tight with resignation. There was no way to argue with his medic. His point was valid in all regards, and it truly was unjust to judge the wrong doings of two and then waive the wrong doings of another.
"The charges given are not able to objected. Ratchet, chief medical officer of the Autobots, I must sentence you, at your own request, to on-base activities only. Your duties will be restricted to medical applications, and all further scientific research on the synthetic Energon will be passed into Scientist Jetfire's care." The large red and blue mech vented, "Please take your seat now, doctor."
Terabyte's expression remained outwardly impassive throughout the whole exchange, but beneath the safety of her mask, confusion was spread over her face. The sentence was so mild, yet the medic seemed devastated. Was the confession all the medic had really wanted? Perhaps just telling them all in an official setting was punishment enough in itself.
"Cliffjumper, if you would return to the podium." The Prime's regal tone now held no room for interruption, and his expression clearly showed his desire to be done with the trials. "For the afore stated crimes, how do you plea?"
The red mech didn't look up from where he stood defeated, staring at the podium that his servos unconsciously trailed over, following every line in the worn steel surface. His sky blue optics were slightly dimmed, indicating that he was not really seeing as he said with determination, "Guilty."
A tense hush fell over the already quiet room as each mech processed this. They had been expecting some sort of at least acknowledgement for record's sake that they were negatively influenced by experimental drugs. They had not been prepared for the unopposed acceptance of guilt.
Normally Cliffjumper wasn't one to just lie down and admit that maybe he was wrong.
She however knew better than to expect that. She knew what they felt like... to a point anyway. And she understood that nothing in this galaxy or the next would bring them to defend their actions. If the Prime's judgement of her actions was anything to go by, both mechs knew full well that even embracing punishment, they would feel inadequately reproved.
"Very well." Optimus said with a slight inclining of his helm. "As your Prime, I must sentence you fairly and in accordance to the crimes committed. For being an accomplice in theft, you will work willing for two quartex of menial labor. For showing yourself irresponsible and untrustworthy in the position you have been given, you will be demoted to the rank of foot-soldier. Your brig duties will be passed on to Lieutenant Terabyte, who by record is well experienced in this field."
Terabyte cringed unwillingly at his last statement, shrinking even deeper into her seat. Her protoform was beginning to dully hurt in protest to how tightly she held her armor, making her shake herself minutely and flare it out defensively. She didn't like the way the Prime was judging the red mech.
She didn't like the stiff, hard, impassiveness of the Prime's tone, or the way his optics were clouded over with an emotion she couldn't identify. She didn't like the over-composed posturing the scarlet and cobalt Matrix-bearer wore, or the way his EM field flared in agitation.
It scared her.
The femme had no way of knowing that the Prime's appearance was only a display of how he disliked punishing the mechs he called family. So she saw only anger, and anger in a mech with his power and strength could only mean bad things for her.
And she didn't like that he was making it seem like she was being promoted for their crimes.
"For torturing a fellow Cybertronian unto the termination of his life force, you will be placed under constant surveillance and will be duly punished if found unaccompanied at any time. You will be confined to base until I deem no longer necessary and will be permitted three breems of outdoor time each week and will be escorted and physically restrained for the duration of the excursions. You will also be given twenty lashes as immediate punishment for this crime."
The Prime took another deep vent, glancing at the navy and black ex-spy's frightened and indignant expression with a disturbed look in his clear blue optics. His gaze seemed to pierce through her being as he looked directly into her own scarlet optics, asking, "Before proceeding, are there any objections to the judgements thus far?"
She gave her finials a self-composing flick before standing slowly, raising a hand like she used to when she was in school so long ago. Her obstinately flared armor trembled faintly, though aside from that her expression and posture showed even less than her carefully monitored voice, "If I may, Prime, I... I object to the increase in my duties that you wish to impose as a result of Cliffjumper's demotion."
There was no reason to be afraid of the Prime. He was a good mech and he had been nothing but kind and fair with her. There was no reason to fear him. Yet the atmosphere in the conference room seemed to weigh down on her with a tension that simply demanded fear's presence.
"Please explain." Optimus replied, his tone softening just enough to be noticeable.
"I am a defector, my Prime." Terabyte said bluntly, as though that was explanation enough. When the Prime's expression failed to show enlightenment, she went on carefully, gaining confidence from the lack of reprimand, "By increasing my duties, it is as though I am being rewarded for their wrongs. It is as though I am being promoted for no merit on my part, merely because Cliffjumper is being demoted. I do not deserve such a promotion at this time, nor is it fair or tactically wise to receive it."
She scowled, the heat of her frustration beginning to touch her tone. "As of yet, I remain a liability and a security risk to the Autobots as a whole, and to add to my responsibilities would be foolish."
Arcee, seated to the Prime's right, winced at her harsh declaration, making a flash of worry seep back into Terabyte's spark. She turned her gaze to her pedes, trembling just a little bit more. Her words could easily be taken to mean that she thought that the great Prime was a fool. Too easily for comfort.
That was a very... foolishly worded sentence.
"At ease, Terabyte." The Prime said gently, making her look up into his optics that now showed a minute amount of amusement. "This is not your trial, and you are not being judged."
She forced her frame to lose some of the tension it had gained, thought her armor remained puffed out. She was by no means at ease, and no command to be at ease would change that. But she had been Soundwave's right hand spy for a reason.
Over the vorns, she had become very, very good at acting.
"Your objections have been noted, and they will be mentioned in the records," Her optics narrowed slightly and her jaw went stiff as she detected a distinct stubborness in his tone. "However, I do not believe my decision to be as foolish as you would believe, and my distribution of responsibilities is my prerogative as Prime."
A light, rare smile touched the Autobot leader's face as he noticed her plainly shown displeasure, "If it would assuage your fears, I will take full responsibility for any ill effects this decision may bring."
"I don't think she really cares who takes the blame, Prime." Arcee mused, leaning back in her seat with an odd expression. "That's not really the issue here."
Terabyte locked optics with the other femme for a moment before saying quietly, "Arcee is correct. I do not wish to knowingly or unknowingly, willingly or unwillingly bring harm to any of the mechs of this team. A brief calculation of the given data warns of my very being here raising the risks of attack by over twenty percent. For me to be given further responsibility and power raises the risks to an 83% chance of a full-force attack."
"You're just as stubborn as Prowl was!" Ratchet burst out in exasperation. "So... number-bound!"
Optimus was still smiling that tiny, knowing smile that was beginning to unnerve her. "Terabyte, did you factor in your loyalties?"
She blinked. The Prime looked like he'd just won the same argument for the millionth time. She frowned, confused by his sudden smugness. Of course she'd factored that in. "Yes, sir, but what you are failing to understand is that I know my boss very well and the likelihood of Soundwave forgetting to put a failsafe of some sort in place while he had full access to my core programming is extremely slight."
"I've scanned your processors multiple times since then, including a deep programming scan and detected no such failsafe." Ratchet assured her.
Her faceplates went slack, her optics widening marginally before she pulled a hard scowl over her expression. "Do you know how little that actually means? This is Soundwave we're talking about." A shudder ran down her struts, as she sat down slowly, "That just means I won't even notice until its far, far too late, much less be able to stop it."
A charcoal hand landed on her shoulder, squeezing it gently in a consoling manner. A string of meaningless, soothing whirrs came from the yellow scout before he said, "Terabyte, stop stressing yourself out. We trust you."
"That's what worries me." She replied quietly, her optics ridges furrowing in distress, looking down at the spiky haired boy that had crawled up to rest his hands on hers.
After about a half a breem, Optimus sighed. "Before we proceed, are there any other concerns to be discussed?"
When the half crescent of mechs remained silent and seated, the Prime motioned for Cliffjumper to step back from the podium. The red mech complied, favoring his left pede ever so slightly. No one else would have even noticed, yet it made Terabyte cringe and have to stifle the urge to pull her armor down to a guilty angle.
"Skyquake, if you would please step up to the podium." Once the stoic green jet had done so, hitching his wings up high and tight, Optimus continued, "Defector Skyquake, for the afore stated crimes, how would you plea?"
Skyquake locked optics with Terabye for a moment before raising an optic ridge, as though the question didn't even need to be asked, his tone implying how obvious he thought it was, "Guilty."
The Prime didn't hesitate or question his plea like he had Cliffjumper's. He already knew that Skyquake would plead guilty. It was his duty, and he owed it to the deceased to take responsibility for his crimes. "You confessed prior to this trial that you were the instigator of the incursions stated. Do you now stand by that confession?"
Almost too quickly, the mech replied, "Yes."
"Cliffjumper, as our only witness of the matter, is this confession honest?"
The red mech shifted his crudely replaced pede before nodding, not trusting his vocalizer. Terabyte's optics caught Skyquake's and narrowed suspiciously. It was not like Skyquake to instigate such an incursion, synth-En charged or not.
She purposefully twitched her left finial, the silent question making the mech's optics widen minutely before his wings flicked down in a guilty motion. His ruby optics held a plea for her to keep his lie hidden. The femme averted her gaze to the table with a slight nod, knowing that he would understand.
The exchanged passed in hardly an astrosecond, unnoticed by anyone else.
"Then the judgements will proceed." Optimus glanced down at his datapad before continuing solemnly, "For being a paroled prisoner and the instigator of the aforementioned series of crimes, you understand that your punishment will be more severe than that of your partner in crime?"
"Yes sir."
"For theft and illegal consumption of stolen experimental substances, you will be assigned menial labor for three quartex. For betrayal of the trust and leniency given in your parole, which you abused and for insubordination and unescorted absence from base, you will be restricted and confined to base for the foreseeable future. You will not be granted any outdoor activities, escorted or otherwise. Should you defy this order in any way, a wing clamp will be employed until you have proven yourself able to submit to our authority."
Terabyte took in and expelled a deep draft of air. She had not expected the Prime to be lenient, but the idea of refusing to let a flier fly, confining him to an underground base for an indefinite length of time. It was harsher than she'd been expecting.
Surprisingly, Skyquake showed no signs of displeasure, concern, or dismay. He just stayed in the same, stiff, but accepting position, not even blinking. Like he'd expected no less, and like it was nothing new.
Now that she really thought about it though, it wasn't anything new. Although there was no spoken order to remain in base, the green jet hadn't even flown five times in all his time here. He just hadn't ever complained about it.
"For torturing a fellow Cybertronian to the extinguishing of his life force, you will receive thirty lashes and three quartex brig time - in which you will leave the brig escorted for the duration of menial labor only - on half rations with your weapons systems disabled and your subspace locked." Optimus concluded, suddenly looking horribly exhausted. "Both of the accused will face a sentence of twenty vorns imprisonment for the inhumane murder of Blitzwing, to be carried out at the end of the war. Any objections or questions may now be expressed."
For the first time in the trial, Skyquake looked somewhat uncomfortable, his wings pulled tight to mask the light tremble. "I would like to request further description of the nature of the lashes to be given, sir."
The room, which had for a moment begun to vibrate with the murmurs of discussion, went deathly still.
The Prime nodded in acceptance of the request. "I am not Megatron, Skyquake. Your wings will be properly restrained to ensure that they are not harmed in the administering of the lashes in accordance to your rights of frame choice. The device used will be a simple Enforcer-class cybertonium whip, and a protective gel will be applied prior to the administering of discipline to limit long-term effects and scarring. Dorsal plating alone will be removed in respect to your rights of privacy."
The larger mech looked confused at the Matrix-bearer's detailed description. Cocking his helm slightly, he echoed, "Rights?"
It hurt Terabyte to consider that her closest friend, who had taken Primus only knew how many beatings for her, had never once been punished with fairness. Once again she was appalled by how blind she had been. How could she have never realized just how despicable her faction was? How could she have been so foolishly naive? So willfully ignorant?
"What?!" Bulkhead spoke up, sounding enraged, "Have you never had rights?"
The fighter jet's blank expression spoke louder than his words ever could. He casually flicked a wing, refusing to look at Terabyte.
She likewise, refused to look up from where her gaze was locked on the table in front of her.
"Slag..." The large olive Wrecker muttered, rubbing the back of his helm with a loud ex-vent.
"When are we going to have the lashings?" Arcee asked quietly, her expression softening as she watched Cliffjumper stand in utter defeat, his whole frame and field deflated.
"As soon as possible." Skyquake bit out, tilting his wings down in apology as soon as he'd said it, "... Sir."
The Prime nodded, his next words coming in slow agreement, "Skyquake is correct. As soon as possible would be most preferable, for all involved I believe."
Beside her the yellow scout gave an almost apologetic bleep before hesitantly asking, "Um... W-Who's going to give the lashings? C-Cause that's normally Cliff's job, and he's, you know, guilty, so..."
Terabyte's optics went wide and her faceplates went slack as she realized just what Bumblebee was implying. Her helm was already shaking back and forth emphatically long before she became aware of it, her engine whining. Her lips were already mouthing the words long before her vocalizer caught up enough to make her whisper in horror, "No. No no no no no. No!"
"I won't do it!" She shouted desperately, her spark clenched painfully in her chest, her armor plastering itself against her frame, her mask falling to reveal her horrified and agonized expression, all thoughts of her outward facade of calm lost in her fear, "I won't do it! You can't make me do this! Please... don't make me do this. Please!"
Her frame was overheating and her fans had kicked in, her vents heaving in short, rapid breaths. The little femme's tanks churned at the very idea of what they were asking. Her processors were locked and going fuzzy, repeating over and over the desperate mantra, "No no no no no no. You can't make me do this. No! I won't do it, you can't make me do it..."
Large hands were on her shoulders, steadying her as she choked on her vents, all of her systems malfunctioning from the extent of her emotional disarray. Her processors were locking up and if she didn't calm down she was going to glitch.
Maybe they wouldn't make her do it if she glitched.
There was no way she would willingly deal out the number of lashes the Prime had sentenced. Not to Cliffjumper, and most definitely not to Skyquake. She'd rather take the whipping herself than do that to them.
Coolant was beginning to drip from her optics as she kept shaking her helm, choking on her own breaths as her frame continued to overheat.
"Shhh... It's okay, Tera." A so beautifully reassuring voice whispered, the hands on her shoulders now soothingly rubbing her upper arms. "It's alright, Terabyte, calm down. You're okay, everything's alright, you can calm down. No one's asked you to do anything."
She took in a slow, shuddery breath, her optics dimming as she focused in on the steady thrum of the strong spark behind her, spreading her finials to catch as much of the calming vibrations as she could. Her vents still heaving, the little femme looked up into Skyquake's faceplates, seeking some sort of reassurance.
"Don't let them make me hurt you..." She begged, "Please, I don't want to hurt you."
"Prime, I've got the authority to do it just as much as she does. I'll do it." Arcee said, standing up, bringing the attention of everyone in the room to her.
"Arcee, that is not for you to decide." The Prime's regal reply brought another pitiful whimper from Terabyte's vocalizer. "Terabyte has been given charge over such matters and I expect no less of her than of any other mech on my team. She will perform her duty."
The younger two-wheeler cringed at the last word, allowing two final tears to fall before she snapped her mask up and rerouted her coolant flow to where she could cry no more. With a rough internal command she forced herself to revert to the level of cold, professional formality that was her best defense. Her armor flared out abruptly as she rose from her seat.
He was right of course. Especially after that statement. When push came to shove, she would always perform her duty. Because duty's call - something she'd grown so attuned to - would always drive her on. It was not something she could simply dismiss.
The Prime had no idea how much power he held over her with that one, short little word.
Giving the Prime a stiff, low bow of submission, Terabyte nodded curtly, awaiting further orders like a good soldier.
Because who was she to defy duty's summoning?