C-14 trudged through the mines from his first break, following the line to their new assigned tunnel. They each got into position, and the miner picked up the drill and started to mine into the wall, restarting the processor numbing work. But his neural net wasn't on his work.
It was on her.
The senator.
Her red and grey frame flashed through his processor, vivid as the klik he had unwillingly met her. No matter how hard he tried to shove the memory file aside, it refused to leave. Her voice, her words haunted him in a way that made his internals churn uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry that you have to go through that. It's not right. None of it."
Those were her parting words to him.
He gripped the drill with more force than necessary, pressing it against the wall roughly. Sparks flew as the drill bit further into the rock, but even the harsh screech of metal against stone couldn't drown out her voice in his neural net.
Why am I even thinking about her? he thought, scowling.
She was a high caste. A senator. A bot who had no business pretending to care about a miner like him. Yet, she had stepped in when she didn't have to, saved his aft from the two crazy officers, and even apologized for a system she benefited from.
It didn't make sense.
"Hey, slave!" a voice called out, snapping him out of his thoughts. C-14 turned to look and saw a taskmaster tapping an electro whip against his servo—this was one of the "nicer" ones. "Yes, you. You going to stand there daydreaming, or you going to dig? We're behind on quota, and you're slowing us down."
C-14 growled lowly, but didn't argue. Arguing would only earn him a few shocks from his inhibitor (if they were feeling particularly cruel) and possibly more punishment later. Instead, he turned back to the wall, forcing his neural net to focus on the task at servo.
But it was ultimately futile.
As the breems dragged on, the senator's words kept playing in his processor. He couldn't decide whether he was angry at her for daring to care or if some part of him—a part he didn't want to acknowledge—was grateful.
Primus, get her out of my helm, he thought, slamming his drill against the wall harder than he should've.
"Are you alright, C-14?" Jinx, who had been blessedly but unusually silent the entire time, asked.
"I'm fine," he snapped, not looking at him.
The newspark's visor dimmed, and he turned back to his work, silently continuing the monotonous routine that he had been so cruelly thrown into. Poor Jinx.
C-14 ex-vented, dispelling some of the heat that was starting to build up. As much as he wanted to hate the high caste femme, he couldn't entirely forget the way she had looked at him and spoken. Her touch lingered on his own servo, and her last promise still remained in his neural net.
"Maybe not today, but someday."
He didn't trust her, of course, he couldn't. How many others like her came promising things and never did anything? Too many. But even so, he felt the small flame inside of him stoked.
It was hope.
And it terrified him.
The breems passed by surprisingly quick, and soon, the taskmasters inspected each of their work. Shortly afterward, they headed down the tunnels, walking to the breakroom that they used after the last shift of miners had finished.
Grabbing his half-filled energon cube, C-14 sat down in his usual spot, optics fixated on the same spot on the wall he had stared at for countless stellar cycles. Even though he might have looked calm on the outside, it was anything but that inside his helm. A fragging, nagging voice refused to let him rest.
You fragged up. You fragged up big time.
He ex-vented sharply, trying to shut the thought down. Across the room, Chainlink sat by Jinx, sipping at his cube. The older miner seemed tired—more than usual—and it didn't seem to help that the newspark was chatting his audial receptors off.
C-14 debated whether to approach him. He needed to know what had happened at The Smelting Pit. He didn't remember much beyond the haze of the conversation they had about Cybertron's past. All he knew for certain is that someone had taken the datapad.
But who had taken it? A thief? An enforcer? The memory files pertaining to that memory file were fuzzy. He didn't remember having low grade that night, but maybe he did. It was plausible that the older mech had been overcharged, with him having low grade and all. Maybe Chainlink had dragged him out of the bar and—
The shrill alarm signaled the end of their all to short break. C-14 vented, rising from his place on the floor. His questions would have to wait.
The miners filed into a line as the overseers barked instructions. After disposing of their rations, the line of miners was divided into groups, and for once, luck seemed to favor C-14. He and Chainlink ended up in the same group, heading to one of the newer tunnels that had been recently dug out.
The miner followed Chainlink silently until they reached their assigned section. C-14 took his position beside him, picking up the drill from the last miners who had been here. He glanced at Chainlink, who was already chipping away at the wall dully, optics dim. At least this was the mech's last shift for the night, unlike him who would have to work extra.
"Chainlink," C-14 said.
The older mech didn't pause in his work, but he gave him a side-optic. "What?"
C-14 hesitated for a klik, then gritted his dentas and forced the words out. "The datapad. It's gone."
That made the older miner pause. He turned his helm sharply toward the younger mech, optics narrowing. "What do you mean, gone? You lose it?"
"No," the miner replied. "Someone must've taken it."
"Slaggit, C-14! That datapad wasn't just some cheap trinket," he hissed, returning to his work after seeing the taskmaster pass them. "It had information—real important information. If somebot finds out—"
"I'm aware," he bit out, hearing the frustration bleed into his voice. He stopped himself, glancing to make sure no was listening. "I didn't lose it on purpose."
Chainlink looked around quickly, optics darting toward the overseers stationed down the tunnel. He leaned in, lowering his voice. "If the wrong bot has that thing, we're all as good as scrapped. You sure you don't remember anything taking it?"
C-14 scowled, frustrated. "No," he growled. "One klik I'm in the bar, the next I'm in my berth in the mines. That's all I've got." He paused. "What even happened in the bar anyways?"
The older mech ex-vented, frowning. "I—I don't remember," he admitted, looking down at the drill in his servo, shaking his helm. "We're in deep slag, C-14. If that thing gets into the wrong servos—"
"I know," he cut him off, annoyed at the constant reminder.
Chainlink fell silent for a klik, then muttered, "We need to figure this out, fast. And quietly. No one else can know."
They mined for the next kliks without another word, not wanting to get in trouble with the taskmasters, who didn't approve of too much talking. Until the older miner broke the silence. Chainlink glanced at him, adjusting his drill. "Where in the Pit have you been for the last few breems? You missed over half the shift."
"I got assigned to energon delivery. Some mech was pulled off the route last klik."
"Reassigned, eh?" The older miner scoffed, focusing back on his work. "I can't imagine that ended well for the poor bot they swapped out."
"No," he muttered darkly. "It never does."
Chainlink didn't say anything for a long klik. "You go to Maccadam's?"
C-14 gave a brief nod. "Yeah."
That made Chainlink's faceplate light up, a wistful smile creeping onto his scarred faceplate. "Maccadam's," he said fondly. "Primus, it's been stellar cycles since I stepped a pede in that place. Best energon you'll ever taste. And the atmosphere? Can't beat it. Bots from all over. There's no caste frag, no overseers hovering over you. Just bots being bots."
The miner shot him a sidelong glance, smirking slightly. "You done reminiscing, old mech?"
Chainlink chuckled. "Fine, fine. So, how was it? Still as great as I remember?"
The younger mech's jaw tightened. "Not exactly. Almost got arrested by two crazy officers."
"Arrested?"
"Yeah," the larger mech grumbled. "They accused me of being with something called AVL. Whatever the slag that is. Started spouting off about some nonsense and threatened to haul me off to Pharma."
Chainlink stiffened visibly. "Pharma?" he repeated, his voice low and tense.
C-14 shot him a sidelong glance, noting his reaction. "Yeah. They said they'd take me there if I didn't 'confess'." He shuddered at the memory. "They were being serious."
Chainlink ex-vented sharply, setting his drill down for a klik. "Frag. You don't know how lucky you are."
The mech raised an optic ridge. "Lucky? Nearly got dragged off by those aftholes. How is that lucky?"
The older miner leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Mnemosurgery isn't just wiping your memories. They dig into your processor. Rearrange it. Turn you into... well, not you. Bots who come back from that aren't the same—if they even come back at all."
His optics darkened, his claws tightening around the drill. "I know. They turn you into a drone, basically."
Chainlink stared at him blankly. "So how in the Pit are you still here, then?"
C-14 hesitated again. "A senator stepped in," he admitted reluctantly.
The older mech blinked, looking at him like he'd just said something impossibly stupid. "A senator? Saved your aft? Are you serious?"
"Dead serious," the younger miner grumbled. "She flashed her fancy ID, told them to release me, and said I was her 'advisor' or something. They let me go after that."
Chainlink tilted his helm. "Why would a senator go out of her way to help a miner? Doesn't add up."
C-14 scowled. "I don't know. She just did."
The answer clearly didn't satisfy the olderminer. "You're telling me a senator—a high caste politician—pulled you out of trouble because she suddenly decided she needed a dirt hauler's advice?"
"Pretty much," he replied flatly.
Chainlink ex-vented, shaking his helm. "That doesn't make sense. Senators don't do anything unless there's something in it for them. She's not using you for something?"
"Wouldn't surprise me," C-14 muttered. "But whatever her game is, it kept me out of Pharma's claws. For now, that's all I care about."
Chainlink nodded slowly. "You better keep your optics open, C-14. High caste bots don't just hand out favors. They always want something in return."
C-14 grunted. "Trust me, Chainlink, I don't plan on trusting her anytime soon."
"Good," the older miner muttered. "Smart mech."
...
"Can you teach me how to fight?" Jinx asked randomly in their second shift, not looking up at him. Strangely, the newspark hadn't looked at him once during the past few breems, avoiding optic contact, which he found... peculiar.
C-14 paused in his work, surprised at the question. He looked at the newspark, who still wasn't looking at him. His optics narrowed into slits, and a frown tugged at his dermas. "Why would you want that?" he asked.
"I—no reason," the smaller mech responded.
"Hmph. You expect me to believe that?" the miner questioned, raising an optical ridge.
"Yes," Jinx replied. "I think it would be good for me to learn how to defend myself."
Ah, there it was. C-14 looked at the smaller mech, noticing that the mech had claw marks and dents that hadn't been there previously. The gladiator pieced two and two together and concluded that Jinx had been attacked.
"Look at me," the elder miner ordered.
The newspark hesitantly looked up, and C-14 scowled at what he saw. Jinx's visor was cracked, his helm was dented and scarred. Energon leaked out of a nasty gash underneath his optics, much to his anger. The gladiator's look must've scared the younger mech, because he shrunk away from him.
"I'm sorry," he apologized, shaking his helm. "The mines are a dangerous place, and—"
He cut himself off when Jinx collapsed to the ground. C-14 lunged forward, gripping the smaller mech by the arm and hauling him to his pedes, feeling his frame was trembling from exhaustion.
Fear ignited in C-14's spark. If a taskmaster saw Jinx, the newspark wouldn't survive the punishment.
"Get up," he whispered urgently, watching as the smaller mech struggled to stay on his pedes. The younger miner probably needed energon, but the taskmasters wouldn't give it to them. Not until tomorrow during their first break.
Unfortunately, Streamline had seen their interaction, spotting the two miners who weren't working. The head taskmaster was the cruelest out of all of them, being a former miner that was alt-mode exempt, taking joy in hurting what used to be his kind. He had it out for C-14, who had no idea what he did to earn the taskmaster's ire.
The good news was that the taskmaster would be focused on him, and not Jinx. The bad news that Streamline was focused on him.
A holographic interface appeared on the former miner's forearm—the control switch for all miners, connected to a vast network that logged each of their IDs and inhibitors, allowing the head taskmaster to activate the inhibitor on any miner of his choosing in the logs—and the mech chose his profile, activating C-14's inhibitor.
The pain hit instantly, white-hot and all-consuming. C-14 collapsed to the ground, clutching his abdomen where the agony originated from. Every wire and circuit in his frame felt like it was on fire. Codes of data scattered across his processor, thoughts dissolving into a chaotic storm. He couldn't think, couldn't move.
Finally, the current ceased, leaving the miner twitching on the ground, vents struggling to cycle air into hisoverheated frame. He was dimly aware of Jinx by his side, the young mech shaking his shoulders and saying something. The words didn't make sense—they were incomprehensible, scattered much like the lines of code in his processor.
Before C-14 could gather his bearings, Streamline grabbed Jinx by the scruff and flung him aside like a piece of scrap. The young mech hit the ground hard, yelping in surprise.
His optics burned as the taskmaster held electro whip in servo, ready to continue the punishment that he didn't deserve. "Always so defiant, aren't you? Time to remind you of your place."
I didn't do anything.
That was the thought that lingered in his helm before the first lash struck C-14's chassis. The whip hit so hard that his plating cracked under the force, leaving a jagged, sparking line of exposed wires. Another lash followed, and another. The miner tried to resist screaming, but it was inevitable.
Around them, the other miners kept their helms down, their optics fixed on the ground. None dared to intervene. They all knew what happened to those who stepped out of line.
The beating abruptly stopped, leaving his plating ruined, dented and scarred, smeared with energon. C-14 expected the pain to overwhelm him, but instead, something hotter than the Smelting Pools hit him. It burned. It the same feeling from that solar cycle he had nearly murdered DV-44.
It was rage.
It surged through his core, roaring like a storm. Why? Why did his kind deserve this? What had they done to deserve to be crushed underneath the pedes of the higher castes, reduced to slaves in the mines, beaten, starved, and discarded like scrap?
They deserved it because of their alt-mode.
His servos curled into fists. He thought of Jinx, a newspark no older than a few cycles, forced to work under conditions that would destroy even seasoned miners. He thought of his old mentor, who had been killed for helping another bot that the taskmasters wanted to leave for dead.
Why?
His kind didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve this. No one did.
The rage grew hotter, sharper, until it felt like it would tear him apart from the inside. He wanted to fight back. He wanted to rip that sneer off Streamline's faceplates and make him feel every lash, every ounce of suffering he had inflicted on the miners.
His vents hissed as he forced himself to his pedes. Just the simple movement sent pain lancing through his battered frame. He stumbled but caught himself, claws digging into the ground as he steadied his stance. Around him, the other miners averted their optics, pretending not to see, pretending not to care. It was safer that way.
But he didn't care right now. Let them look. Let them see.
Streamline watched impassively, though he could imagine the cruel sneer on the mech's faceplate if had one. His frame was relaxed, as if he hadn't just beaten another mech within an inch of his life. The sight made C-14's rage boil over, and a snarl ripped from his vocalizer.
The taskmaster jeered at the sound, raising the whip threateningly at the pitiful sight before him. "Maybe I should have hit you harder—"
C-14 didn't let him finish.
A roar tore from his voice box and his fist collided with Streamline's faceplate, shattering his visor and denting his faceplate with a sickening crunch. The force of the blow sent the taskmaster staggering back, energon streaking from the cracked remnants of his optics.
It felt good.
But the satisfaction was short-lived. A sharp jolt coursed through his frame as his inhibitor chip activated again, sending him crumpling to one knee. His systems screamed in protest, but the pain only fueled his fury.
There was only one thought that couldn't be broken by the unrelenting pain.
HurT. MaKE hIM PAy. KilL.
With a snarl that didn't sound like his own voice, he pushed through the agony, forcing himself upright. Streamline would pay! The head overseer had barely recovered from the first punch when C-14 swung again, his fist crashing into the mech's jaw.
The taskmaster staggered, falling to one knee. The gladiator swayed as the shock from the inhibitor intensified, sending him collapsing to the ground. His vents wheezed, and his frame trembled, but he didn't stop.
Streamline activated his comms, calling for reinforcements. "We have a rogue miner! I need help immediately!" he barked, raising his whip again.
But before he could strike, C-14's claws closed around his wrist, stopping the weapon mid-swing. The inhibitor chip sent another wave of searing pain through C-14's frame, forcing a growl of agony from his vocalizer. But he didn't let go. He couldn't. He had to resist!
The two mechs locked optics. Fear was the only thing that could describe what C-14 saw in the taskmaster's optics, and he liked it. Another jolt from the inhibitor and his thoughts scattered again, nearly making him loose his grip.
"You're nothing," Streamline spat, though he couldn't hide the tremor in his voice.
C-14's derma curled into a snarl. "And you're going to remember what nothing can do."
He swung again, but this time, the pain overtook him. Gears and wires locked up tightly, processor and system shutting down as the pain became unbearable, and he collapsed to the ground, darkness overtaking him like a tide.
HurT. MaKE hIM PAy. Ki - i - i - IL - Il - llll... er—
Poor C-14. But this is nothing compared what's going to happen to him next. It gets worse before it gets better. This miner has a lot of anger issues, but who wouldn't after being forced to mine for energon for years and years, being treated nothing more than a piece of garbage? They are not even mechs in other bots' eyes.
This is one of the reasons I created C-14. I wanted to show the dark side of the caste system, especially in the mines and how they are treated. I originally wanted to use Megatronus, but he was long out of the mines from where I wanted to start, so here is my OC swooping in.
I created Nightwing to be his contrast. The "high caste" with all the privilege, though she is trying to help low castes. Unlike the others... ugh...
Until next time, my good readers :D