Chapter 76
-0-Walter E. Washington Convention Center Hearing
Then Thomas 'Beau Weevil' Weaver got his turn.
"Mister Ambassador … you're a mister, correct?" Beau Weaver, Senator from the Great State of Texas asked.
Ratchet nodded. "Correct."
"Mister Ambassador, I'd like to talk about things that the other committee members haven't asked. I would like to talk about your philosophy, religion, your personal habits and other things that might help all of us to understand you better than before."
"It's forbidden for me to talk about the personal habits of others, even myself to a degree and our religious beliefs as well as a number of other things that deal in the personal realm of our lives. It's a taboo area outside of our own kind. Saying that, however, I will do my best to tell you what I can."
Weaver stared at Ratchet a moment, then tapped the table with a pen. "You're here to answer our questions. I'd think you'd want to clear up any misunderstandings and promote the proper thinking in regard to your people, especially those areas that our people know the least. It would help promote the relationship better if we understood you fuller."
-0-Ops Center, Autobot HQ
"Oh, oh. Dumb aft alert," Jazz said.
Sam, Prowl and Prime nodded.
-0-Ops Center, N.E.S.T. HQ
"Oh, oh. Dumb ass alert," Colonel Fulton said.
The entire team on the floor nodded.
-0-Walter E. Washington Center Hearing, Washington, D.C.
Ratchet considered him. "You'd be asking me to violate not only the privacy of my comrades but a cultural and societal taboo. For instance, its not the Cybertronian way to speak for another. We believe that we can't know and thus convey other people's thoughts and ideas without asking and knowing them first. Thus, if you ask me to speak about another I won't. It isn't done. What I can do is I will answer what I can but not that which is forbidden."
"Your Prime, as you call him, he should have given you permission," Weaver countered. "It seems that you want to hide a number of things from us, things that are innocuous amongst human societies. We know each others religions and cultures without harm or foul. That's hardly something an ally should want to do from another ally."
"We believe that our actions have told a greater tale than any words I can give you. We've interdicted a great number of Decepticon actions and we've taken casualties. I'd think that the shared blood would tell you of our fidelity to your protection," Ratchet said quietly. "What I believe about either mundane or profound things shouldn't compromise the effort and outcome of that."
"That's all well and good but there are other things that are of interest to our people and on their behalf I'm asking," Weaver countered.
"Such as?" Ratchet asked.
"Where you stand on God or if you even have one. What kind of relationships do you have? Forgive my directness but I wouldn't be able to tell if you were a male or female by just looking at you," he said.
The atmosphere in the room shifted, the audience becoming uncomfortable at the pivot in questions and manners. Ratchet knew they were on his side and it was his to lose. He waited for further questions but the Senator was waiting for him. "I understand your interest and your confusion. You're not the first alien lifeforms to have encountered us. We've been searching far and wide for the Allspark and crossed many paths. We've learned to appreciate life in all its often strange and unthinkable forms.
"We understand that organic lifeforms are different, strange and for some of us difficult to relate to and accept. But we do because life is what it is, where it is. The fact that we've been space-going as a species since the beginning of our existence as a people helps that along as well. We have just about seen it all amongst us. Given the culture that is mine and its limitations, I can answer most of your questions but those that are taboo."
"Why?" Weaver persisted. "Surely, you can get an exemption for this important of a meeting."
"I can't because they're private, some of them. Others are taboo for discussion outside of our species because they're sacred. It makes me deeply uncomfortable to discuss the Allspark even though I know It's part of the problem here. That subject, that particular thing is taboo.
"The privacy of our people and all our individual people in the area of relationships is important. We felt it when we lived on our world even in the hardest of the oppression and now that we're scattered to the winds we feel it even more. You ask a lot of us, we who have suffered greatly.
"Our people aren't here to give their consent and I'm not authorized to discuss them so I can't. Even as I know there are taboo areas for you, there are some for us. It's that simple."
"Then let's talk about your own relationship. You're here to give consent."
"My relationship?" Ratchet asked with surprise.
"Yes," Weaver said picking up a paper to make a pretense of reading from it. "It appears you have a relationship with someone called Ironhide."
A burst of angry emotion swept to Ratchet from Ironhide over his bond so he sent back cool soothing emotions in return.
Lennox who was sitting nearby rose to walk to Ironhide, opening the door to climb inside.
"'Hide, relax," Lennox said sensing the anger in the cab. "Ratchet is killing it here. Just hang on."
"Frag that, Lennox," he said, his voice even lower with his outrage. "They don't have any business talking about us and how did they find this out? The mercs? Daniels?"
"I don't know but I'm going to find out," Lennox said, his own expression grim.
-0-Ops Center, Autobot HQ
"Fraggin' Daniels," Jazz said.
-0-Ops Center, N.E.S.T. HQ
"Daniels, that bastard," Fulton said.
-0-Walter E. Washington Convention Center Hearing
Ratchet stared at Weaver impassively but was in conversation with Prime at the same time.
After a moment, Weaver looked up, waiting impatiently. "Is that information correct?"
"I cannot comment on personal matters," Ratchet said quietly and levelly.
"Even your own? You can grant permission." Weaver looked at Ratchet with an expression of coldness as he relentlessly pressed his point.
"I'm not prepared to concede that I have a relationship to discuss. I'm bound by the laws of taboo to protect the personal from invasion of privacy."
"Then let me fill in what I know," Weaver said. He picked up a paper and began to read from it. "You are Ratchet, Chief Medical Officer of the Autobot garrison. You're a male. You're in a relationship with another male by the name of Ironhide." He nodded to an aide who pulled a large poster board from among several and put it up on an easel behind his boss. On the poster board was an image of Ratchet and Ironhide, albeit unclear and of low quality, indicative of a cell phone snapshot. "Is that you and the other Autobot I mentioned?"
It was an innocuous photo of Ironhide and Ratchet walking together outside the hangar. "I'll concede that's me and Ironhide. But we're just walking together to N.E.S.T. Headquarters."
"There are rumors at Diego Garcia that you and Ironhide are in a relationship," Weaver persisted. "Is that true?"
Ratchet smiled in spite of the absurdity of the moment. Of all the many questions that this man could ask, questions that might clarify big questions about the universe or about aliens in general, Weaver wanted to know if he and Ironhide were 'facing. "I cannot answer that question without breaking personal and cultural taboos."
"Did an incident happen recently in which this Ironhide went off the reservation and destroyed with his bare hands a barracks, putting life and limb in danger?"
Ratchet looked at Morshower who decided to intervene. "There are mercenaries at Diego Garcia, much against my desire for them to be there who've been provoking the Autobots when drunk, which seems to be their preferred condition. They provoked an Autobot without reason who was ill and it necessitated an intervention. The barracks was harmed in the incident but the Autobots rebuilt it themselves. The mercenaries were found to be at fault by outside independent investigations."
"You find it okay for dangerous aliens to tear things up? What could a small human do to someone like him?" Weaver said pointing at Ratchet.
"Plenty," Morshower said. "The same mercenaries drove a heavily armored fully loaded security enhanced SUV into one of them when they were crossing the compound and in full right of way. The SUV hit them at 150 miles per hour and caused injury."
"The men inside died, two of them," Weaver countered.
"The men inside, all three of them were found to be three times the legal limit for intoxication. They deliberately aimed for the Autobot they hit. They were playing chicken but unfortunately for them they didn't tell the Autobot. The impact severely injured the Autobot and killed two of the mercs.
"They were at fault, not the Autobot who was offending no one at the time. And I would like to add, extensive investigations confirm what I just said. Intel-Martin hires scum and they act like it. It's only the patience of the Autobots that prevents the problems they create from escalating."
It was silent a moment as Weaver consulted papers. He looked up to consider Morshower. "You and I will have to disagree, General."
"No, Senator, you will have to overlook several independent investigations if you continue this line. That isn't disagreement. That is prejudice."
Weaver looked as if he were going to argue but he didn't. instead he nodded to his aide. The young woman stood, then pulled another poster board from a stack to place it on the easel.
Ratchet looked at it as a flash of red passed before his optics when he saw what it represented. It was a bunch of youngling soldiers relaxing on the beach. Three of them were the intention of the photo and they were Sunstreaker, Bluestreak and Sideswipe. They were lounging together with Bluestreak leaning against Sunstreaker while Sideswipe was resting his helm on Blue's lap. Ratchet waited, looking at Weaver like the scum he was.
"This picture was taken at Diego Garcia. I would like to know if you would comment upon it."
A short com call was had from Prime then he did. "That was a number of our youngling soldiers, our youngsters relaxing at the beach after a mission that involved shooting and injuries. They're sitting together enjoying a quiet moment."
"And the relationships? What about them?"
"They're friends of long standing relaxing together. What are you implying, Senator?" Ratchet asked as his optics narrowed.
"I would like to know where the females are. I would like to know if the relationships among you, especially these three individuals are same sex."
"Why?" Ratchet asked.
"Because it's against our military regulations to allow openly gay individuals in ranks."
A groan permeated the hall. It permeated the White House, N.E.S.T. and Autobot Headquarters as well as allied areas. It permeated fifty million households in just America alone and it permeated Ironhide's helm.
Ratchet who was having saturation troubles of his own tamped down his emotional personality programming. "I'm not at liberty to discuss the personal relationships or lives of our soldiers. I would also like to point out that taking pictures of our soldiers and passing them out of Diego Garcia is a crime. You've received images taken in a crime, Senator. I would also point out that our soldiers are not in the ranks of your army. Therefore, the laws that you employ regarding fraternization do not apply to us. Why don't you get to the point."
"The point?" he asked. "My point is to get to the truth."
As Beau Weaver of the Great State of Texas made his point someone else did, too. Three huge explosions outside blew out the windows behind them as the concussion flashed across the common area outside.