The Diego Diaries: Interlude 8
=0=The Prison yard, Autobot City, Mars
Contrail stood before them staring evenly at Prime. He was churning up inside but he hid it well. He could hide things somewhat though his usual pattern was bluster and snootiness. What they would want, he didn't know. The guards had entered their yard and told each to return to their rooms. They followed inside and stood in the area watching each inmate through their open doors. It had been unnerving.
"You will have to be specific, Prime. I am unclear as to your meaning," he said evenly. Given his bluff haughty personality, he was doing unexpectedly well. Gone was the scorn and trademark glare. Before them was just an older Seeker warily touching the ice to see if he would fall through or not.
Prime sat back considering the mechanism. "I want to know about slave labor camps and strange experimentation on our people. I want to know everything you do."
"You assume I know anything, *Prime*," he said with a cold irritation.
"Ratbat and Sentinel said you do," Prime said casually.
"I doubt that," Contrail retorted.
"They said to ask you. You have been thrown to the wind, Contrail. They are going to blame you for war crimes." He nodded to Semi. "This is Semi. He was a leading dissident lawyer in Capital City. He learned a great deal about what you and the Council allowed. He was imprisoned for it. This," he said nodding to a tall black bot with distinguished sliver inlays on his armor. "This is Blackstone. I know you remember him."
Contrail looked at the big bot sharply, then relaxed. "I know many different individuals."
"They were in prison by order of the Council. You put these mechs in prison. I asked Semi to be here because he's a judge in the colony. You do understand that three judges are required for cases involving offenses against the state. He's here to monitor this process of fact gathering for future criminal proceedings. You have been tossed aside by your confederates. All you can do now is talk."
"About what? I am not clear on what you wish to know. That is, even if I could believe anything you've said so far," Contrail replied just this short of a sneer.
"You would do well to pay attention, Contrail," Blackstone said in his cultured voice. "We have serious charges before us and your bluster and oblivion will not save you from a trail of serious evidence and offenses. You do know more than any of us that the penalty for conviction of a crime against the state is punitive stasis."
Contrail looked at Blackstone a moment, then the others. He stared at Prime. "May I sit or do you enjoy this too much to allow such a courtesy?"
"Sit," Prime said nodding. "What do you know about prison camps, slave labor and experimentation on our people?"
Contrail sat and considered his options. There were none. "What can I expect from telling you what I know, if anything?"
"Nothing," Prime said. "I am asking a Cybertronian about Cybertronian crimes. I expect you to answer like a Cybertronian. I don't intend to buy your comments with trade offs. I expect you to talk."
"I suppose you do," Contrail said nodding. "You were the least offensive of the two possibilities, Optimus Prime for the Matrix. The orn that the vote was taken for Prime, you were the one we thought would be easier to handle. I suppose this is where you say we were wrong."
"You were," Ironhide said with satisfaction.
Contrail glanced at him, then Prime once more. "I didn't know much. They were Halogen's personal fiefdoms."
"How convenient," Ironhide said. "Halogen is dead. You fix blame on him. You walk away from responsibility."
"If you say so, Ironhide," Contrail said. "I heard many things. I heard that Halogen set them up to be work camps for dissidents. I am sure both of you could tell stories," he said looking at the two lawyers.
Neither Semi nor Blackstone spoke. The silence was almost eerie.
"They were the camps I knew about. One big camp each were on the lesser moons, not Moonbase. That was where the mini-cons and bridge scientists were held I am told to labor for the state in repairing and redesigning the system's transports. They were administered by Halogen through his office. Sentinel wanted the riffraff off the surface of Cybertron and the idea of disappearing into the camps spread around to keep civil disobedience down appealed. We … that is, Sentinel and Halogen targeted the intelligentsia, the leadership of the unions and guilds, the families of dissidents, renegade lawyers and the like. They targeted the media to quash information and data mined the grid. No one anywhere could make their way without the two knowing about it. They said it was necessary for the security of our planet.
"I didn't know much about what happened there. To tell you the truth, I didn't ask. I know there were experiments on the Decepticon side. Shockwave was working on a lot of crazy things. He was completely fragged, that one."
"Yet you and Ratbat defected to their side," Prime said.
"They held no grudges and they were going to win. It was as simple as that, Prime. You were not going to defeat them. We wanted to stay on Cybertron."
"We know that you collaborated with the 'Cons to destroy Polyhex as a diversion so that Megatron could attack Simfur and take the AllSpark," Ironhide said as a matter of fact.
Contrail looked at him a moment. "I don't agree with your statement."
"You don't have to," Prime said. "Others do."
"It would appear that you're going to be the fall guy, Contrail," Springer said quietly. He stood nearby with his arms folded across his chest, a pensive Drift watching silently. "You're going to be the bad guy."
Contrail looked at Springer crossly, then Prime. "Is that so."
Prime didn't speak but Ironhide moved closer. "No honor among thieves as they say. I'm surprised you're surprised."
Contrail stared at Prime even as he heard the others remarks. He considered the mech before him, a much older harder version of the impassioned youth that had captured the attention of the Matrix through his futile but eloquent attempts to speak to the High Council about justice and the like. He sat back. "Shockwave was working on gestalts. He didn't care what happened to his specimens. He just liked having lots of them. He had captured a lab that had belonged to Jhiaxus. Going through his research, he found a number of things that interested him including survival of spark bond death. There were also mountains of data on gender and pretender research. Soundwave was a busy mech."
"Is that so," Ironhide said. "What else do you know and make it snappy."
Contrail glared at Ironhide, then turned his attention back to Prime who sat silently. "This is good cop, bad cop. The humans feature it a lot in their entertainment programming," he said with a humorless laugh. "I don't know what Shockwave was doing specifically. I just heard second hand. I didn't care to be a part of it so I wasn't. I do know that there were camps on the moons and out on some of the trade planets near the Rim. Troublemakers went there, they didn't come back."
"Find them on a map," Prime said. He pulled one from subspace and Contrail studied it. He pointed to Falax II and Corvan. It was silent a moment, then Blackstone leaned forward. "It would be in your best interests to tell all that you know. If you don't, then you will be complicit after the fact to what may turn out to be war crimes. I would counsel you to think long and hard before you sign off on any kind of final statement, Mr. Secretary. It might mean the difference between relative freedom here and punitive detention below ground. If this goes to trial, any sympathy you might get may mean the difference in the jury's decision about your fate." He sat back, his optics never leaving one of the architects of his and his family's suffering.
Contrail looked at Blackstone a moment, then Prime. "Sentinel was Prime. All of it was on his shoulders. He asked us to come with him during The Fall and we did. He made a deal with Megatron to bring Cybertron to Earth. He was going to use Earth's resources and species to bring Cybertron back to life. I didn't know until we were well under way. As for the camps, they are there. They are or were Shockwave's private hunting ground. I don't know much that happened after we left but we put two and two together. Given that Shockwave wanted complete capitulation and entire control over the population as Megatron's chosen negotiator, it is not too hard to figure out what has happened. The camp infrastructure was in place. It would not take much to enlarge it and its scope."
They sat staring at each other, then Prime nodded nearly imperceptibly. "Dismissed," he said softly.
Contrail sat a moment, the bluster and aggression missing from his persona. Then he stood and turned walking with the guards back to the prison. It was silent a moment as they sat watching him go. Then Prime leaned back. "We have four sites. There must be more. We need intell. We need to send teams."
Ironhide nodded in agreement.
-0-Later that day, elsewhere
They crept through the night heading toward the building they had chosen for the new target. Teams in seven other cities were joining them as well as teams in four other countries. They would plant their bombs, spray their slogans and leave without a trace.
Buildings would blow up, evidence would be near to non existent and the headlines would be the same. "Groups Target Autobots Once Again."
This time they would be groups in London, Paris, Moscow and Buenos Aires as well as Seattle, Washintgon, Dallas, Texas, New York City, Detroit, Michigan, Chicago, Illinois again, Portland, Oregon and Omaha, Nebraska.
-0-In a dining room in the House of Representatives
The seven sat together, a recently elected group dedicated to the future of Earth for humans. They were preparing to issue a letter to Warren Roberts calling for the appearance of the diplomat of the Autobots, Ratchet to appear before their committees to answer questions that needed resolution. Chief among them was the problem of who owned this solar system and all of its planets, moons, assets and space.
Warren would leave for Autobot City to discuss this matter with Prowl, Prime and Ratchet.
-0-Sector 7
Agent Seymour Simmons had winnowed down his list of suspects for the mole that was inhabiting the bureau. He was working every angle, every single possibility. As he did, the mole himself was sitting in his office decrypting another promising block of data that might lead to the possibility of space bridges.
He would do so in an office slash lab that was three doors down from Agent Simmons's own.
-0-*!THE JAZZ AND BLASTER SHOW!*
"This is Blaster sitting in for Jazz who will be joining us shortly I hope. He's working on top secret hush-hush stuff for Prime. Or that's what he told me. You never know with Jazz." Blaster grinned, a welcome sight to the endless viewers who watched him on the 'radio' broadcast channel, number 6. Radio shows were simulcast on that channel to allow both listening and viewing choices.
Blaster sat at the main board and opened the program to calls. "This is Blaster. What's on your processor?"
"Blaster, I was wanting to know about something new that everyone is saying is part of Christmas Surprise."
"Alright," Blaster said leaning back with a grin. "What do you want to know?"
"I heard that Santa Prime gave a gift to each youngling and infant himself. Then someone told me that families and friends can give them to each other too. What is the truth? I wasn't here the other times. This is all new to me."
"Both are true. The younglings get a gift from Santa Prime for sure. What happens to others is up to you. It can be anything. I'm giving Revet a present. I won't tell you what it is. But I decided to give him one and one to 'Vette. 'Vette likes a toy called Legos. I had some sent to me from the Requisitions List. I can't wait until he plays with them. He's going to love it."
"Then its optional?"
"Sure," Blaster said with a grin. "It is."
"Thank you, Blaster."
"Don't mention it," Blaster replied toggling off the caller. "This is Blaster," he said toggling on another switch. "What's on your processor?"
"What are you giving Revet, Blaster? I could use ideas," the voice said.
"I would tell ya, Revet but where would be the surprise?" he asked with an enormous smile.
"Slag," Revet said dropping the accent with a grin.
=0=TBC
2012 (12)