The Diego Diaries: Down Time (278) edited for boo boos
-0-The Prison Operational Center
The room was heavy, the energy somber. No one spoke for a moment, then Prime shifted. "This is a complicated situation. We now have our second murder in the city. Like the other one, this would appear to have extenuating circumstances. It is not a cut and dried situation."
Ratchet nodded. "No. You must also understand that this has an element of personal conflict as well with our family connection. I will have to ask another doctor to do the post postmortem."
Prime nodded. "I understand."
"The report from Jarro will be critical. It could be that this mech didn't have complete control over their actions," Ironhide said.
"They meticulously planned this, joining the Home Guard to get the weapon and training necessary to pull this off." Prime shook his helm. "The misery of our people from Cybertron never ends."
"It does for my son," Ironhide said coldly. "I for one won't miss Retro."
"No." Ratchet agreed. "But it would be foolish to think that Jade and Sunspot were his only victims." Ratchet looked at Prime. "I know this sounds odd considering all things but we have to build a mausoleum. We need a place to put our dead, Optimus."
He nodded. "I have been considering that as well. I think I would like to speak to Jetta about setting aside a plot of land that can be developed for a burial ground for our people. I can only assume that this and accidents, old age and the like will continue. We have to have a place to put our people that gives them honor in their passing."
Everyone nodded, then Prime rose turning to the prison crew. "I don't want this to get out. This is a sealed event until we figure out what fully happened and release it to the news in a complete form."
The crew nodded and watched as Optimus Prime followed by his senior staff and security walked out of the building. Guards who had gathered outside turned to watch as Prime and his people walked to the gate of Cell Block B. Nodding to the Officer of the Orn, Optimus and his mechs stepped through the gate when the bars went down. They went back up when the party was through.
Walking toward the barracks, they paused and waited as the inmates stepped out. Nearby covering the ground, blue energon from Retro and burnt sand from the arcing blast of the bullet hitting the bars marred the soil. Sentinel followed by Ratbat, Decimus, Proteus and Contrail stepped out of the barracks and walked to stand before Prime and his officers. Sentinel looked at all of them measuringly, then the guards who had moved to the bars, their guns in plain sight. "I don't suppose you will tell us what happened here," Sentinel said calmly.
The others weren't calm but they were silent as they watched Prime. Optimus looked at the stained soil nearby, then Sentinel. "What do you know about a mech called Jade?"
Sentinel didn't flinch but the others registered reactions. "He was a friend of Halogen," Decimus said. "What about him?"
"What else do you know about him?" Prime asked again.
Decimus looked at Prime with a calculated expression on his face. "Why? What does he have to do with this?"
"Answer the question," Ironhide said moving slightly closer. "Prime asked it. You answer it."
Decimus looked at Ironhide with an expression of loathing. "He was a friend of Halogen. A very good friend. Do I need to draw you a picture?"
"What do you know about Retro's predilection for young mechs?" Ratchet asked. "The younger, the better?"
They looked at him, some of them with startled glances. "What do you mean?" Decimus blustered. "I knew Retro for vorns of ages and what you are suggesting … you cannot be serious."
"I'm deadly serious," Ratchet said with a cold tone. "Cut the crap. You had to know. You had to know he liked younglings, the younger the better. Why the frag do you think he was in the prison?"
"For jaywalking. For spitting on the sidewalk. He was high caste. You don't need a reason to lock one up," Decimus replied hotly.
Ratchet glanced at Proteus. "You know."
Proteus, the intelligent crafty one looked at Ratchet. "You're hallucinating."
"You will be the one hallucinating if you don't level with us, Proteus," Ironhide said. "Mechs are shooting you fraggers over stuff that happened to them a million years ago on Cybertron. How the frag do we stop that if we don't know things?"
"Like you would want to, Ironhide," Ratbat said with a slight smirk.
"I don't," Ironhide said agreeing. "But the autopsies are taking Ratchet away from dinner. Spill or get spilled. Your choice."
It was silent a moment, then Proteus shifted. "We heard stories. We never saw evidence. Retro came from a good family and he did a good job on the tasks he was given. Why should we have believed anything like that?"
"Because it was true," Prowl said. "There are more than one victim of his tastes here in the city. I was chasing down the ring that ran his type of victims when I was sent to do another job that I was told was related to the case I was closing in on. It wasn't. What do you remember about that?"
No one spoke, then Sentinel shifted again. "You were made Second-in-Command of the Armed Forces for your ability. You weren't pulled off anything, Prowl."
"Of course I was," Prowl countered looking up at the mech he once had feelings for. Once upon a time in a deluded lifetime ago he thought for a moment. "I was diverted. No one ever was arrested. I pursued it in my spare time but it never got anywhere, Sentinel. You know that and so do I. He was protected from prosecution and now he's dead with a round through his processor. And no one cares. However, this isn't Cybertron under the rule of any one of you. We want the truth and the facts. So spill them. Spill them before someone else with a grudge that we don't know about shoots one of you to get even."
"We just heard rumors but never saw it. He had mech friends, romantic ones," Proteus said.
"Good cover for what he truly was. Didn't it occur to you that predators sometimes hide themselves in the tall grass?" Ironhide said coldly. "This was about babies. You didn't bother to check did you to see if this was true or not."
"We didn't have any evidence," Proteus said. "We knew his family. He was high caste. He was a good worker. He was pleasant and useful. What grounds would we have to look into his life?"
"Rumors are the smoke from fires. The kindling was innocent younglings and babies," Ratchet said. "You didn't look because you can't believe a high caste can be a monster. It has been my experience that too many of them were. You let a predator prey on children and look what has happened."
"You make everything about caste, Ratchet," Proteus protested. "This is just bunk. I don't know why Retro was shot but it has more to do with someone holding a grudge from Cybertron than anything else. Why don't you investigate that? Or does the murder of high castes matter? First Kudon, now Retro."
"This is and isn't about caste," Prime said. "Caste only matters because of the terrible injustices done to our people by the System on Cybertron and even beyond that during the Diaspora. Retro had more than one victim here and the evidence from that one and this new one is painting a grave picture. If you had investigated the claims being rumored about Retro, maybe he would still be alive and a lot of children wouldn't be victimized. Your failure to even envision this possibility makes you responsible for the actions he was allowed to commit unchecked."
"You would blame us for everything, Optimus," Sentinel said calmly.
"You deserve the blame, Sentinel," Prowl said coldly. "You and the others. After all, you were the fraggers making the slagging laws."
They all turned to Prowl who stood tense and outraged.
"Who else made the damned laws?" he asked again. "I didn't. Neither did anyone else standing here. You overturned every law and reform that Prime tried to make to save the planet from the inevitable. How could you honestly believe that genitors would allow their infants to starve and have no future while you sat on your fat afts and took everything? What the hell did anyone of you contribute that was worth the spark of one dead miner or one starving child? Frag you, all of you to the Pit."
It was silent as they stared at Prowl, then Sentinel turned to go. Pausing a moment, he looked at Prime. "Do you think we are safe in this pen or do you expect more vigilantes?"
"I expect you to be forthright with me, Sentinel," Prime replied. "All of you. You will be protected to the best of our abilities but I can't guarantee that someone else won't even a score I don't know about. That part of the security puzzle is yours to fill in."
Sentinel turned and walked back to the barracks followed by everyone but Proteus. He looked at Prime. "I didn't know what he was doing. I wasn't close to him. He was a staffer that did work assigned and was a Judicial attache. That wasn't my bailiwick."
"But you knew there were rumors," Prowl persisted.
Proteus looked at him, then nodded slightly. "I did. Twenty-twenty hindsight. I can't change a thing. I just know once in a while someone would say they didn't like Retro. They hinted he was unsavory but not more than that. I knew his brother. That is all I know." He stood a moment, then turned and walked to the barracks. He entered and the door closed.
"Slagger," Prowl said hotly. He glanced at the energon on the ground. "I hope this is the last time this happens. I don't envy what happens when this is announced."
"I will make an announcement of it myself on IntraComm. Until then, we gather the evidence, seek information on the shooter and keep this secure," Prime said. "I don't want discord beyond what is inevitable in the city."
They nodded and turned walking back together. The walk through the streets of the city, the evening crowd pausing to talk was pleasant considering the circumstances. When they reached the elevator of their building, they stepped inside and began the ride up.
"Are you going to tell Sunspot?" Prowl asked worriedly.
"I will ask Roto. He's Sunspot's counselor. We will tell him but the proper way," Ratchet replied. "He hasn't had a bad dream in a long time and I don't want to stir up tranquil waters."
Prowl nodded. The elevator paused as Ratchet and Ironhide stepped off heading for the barn. Prime and Prowl went onward to the penthouse. Entering their apartment, both hugged Ravel and Tie Down. The two went home and the apartment was quiet. The infants were all in recharge, Spot's helm rising to peer at them as they leaned in to peer at both.
They walked to the living room and sat down in their chairs. It was silent a moment. "This is a relief, Ironhide. I can't say I approve of what happened nor do I care for the taking of life. I am a doctor after all. I am just relieved for Sunspot. He won't have to testify at any trial."
Ironhide nodded. "I know. I don't care about Retro. I'm a father, Ratchet. My infants are everything to me. I am glad for Sunspot's sake that this didn't have to go to trial. I am just concerned about Jade."
"He seems pretty shocked and his affect is dull," Ratchet said with a nod. "I think even though it was clearly premeditated that there are extenuating circumstances. Jarro will find out. I just don't want caste discord. We are integrated as a society here and I want it to stay that way. Prime might have to have a Convocation of the Will sooner rather than later."
Ironhide nodded. "I hear you."
They sat together talking quietly. Nearby in a cell in the brig, a forlorn young mech sat staring at the floor as his counsel explained to him what would happen next. He heard the words but they didn't really register. He was lost in his memories of a mech named Beray who loved him.
For the moment, that was all that mattered.
-0-In the Autobot City Hospital and Medical Center Morgue
They wheeled the gurney into the locker and parked it next to two others. Mechs who had been injured in the last migration had died and they were awaiting some sort of disposition. There was no cemetery nor mausoleum in the city yet. All of the dead were stored in a locker next to this one.
The tag on the sealed bag read 'mech, gunshot wound, keep for formal autopsy-full report to Office of the Prime, CMO, Justice Department-Barron, cc Blackstone'. The mechs on duty turned and walked out, the heavy door closing behind them. The lights went out when the door closed and the room was still.
In the morning, a doctor named Ashbury would come in and do the postmortem. He would take apart the victim's helm and trace through the burnt and destroyed circuits the path of the bullet. It would be a remarkable shot going into one audial and out the other in a straight line. He would determine that the victim was in good condition, possessed a very good protoform and had the outward appearance of a high caste mech. His protoform would be neo-Golden Age in design, obviously an homage to his ancestry. It would be determined that he had good nutrition all of his life, that his function had never involved heavy lifting or manual labor and that his databanks were destroyed when his processor overloaded before death. Nothing would be salvageable.
Ashbury would never know how lucky he would be that this was so. Part of the postmortem process involving unnatural deaths was a review of any and all existing databases to determine if anything relating to the death in question existed in the files of the victim. That would not be possible with Retro.
He would take all of his secrets to the Matrix.
-0-TBC
04-20-13
NOTE: What great comments in the reviews. I will answer all of them shortly. You have given me a very good view of what this reads like to you. Readers have a ton of insight and when you share it, I love it. It gives me a good idea of whether my ideas are sound or not. HUGS to everyone who reads this, notes or no. I love you all. :D :D