Fiction: D-HEX-23675 Journals: Journal 2: Testing unit D-Hex-23675
Title: Testing unit D-Hex-23675: Eliciting a response of disobedience.
Journal #2 in the D-HEX-23675 Journals series.
Author: Aerisnoir
Chapter: The Lore of Cybertron [location: Khalanxis Court Halls, Salaxorius’ offices]
Two machines made their way from the bowels of Khalanxis to one of the anterior buildings. Not just any building. The Grand Court of Justice. Perhaps even more important than the tower of Khalanxis itself. Depending on who you’d ask, definitely more important. The mechs were very different from one another. One was big and bulky, with spikes jutting from the plating on its shoulders and with thick rugged armor on its backside. It was an Allicon, native built on Quintessa. It carried a sharp and well-maintained ranseur polearm as was protocol for its class. It stood registered as ‘Kalldfire 6625-394-99’, but was more commonly called ‘Cindermaw’.
The other mech was a sharp contrast to the Allicon; It was incredibly small, had no spikes, no battle-worthy armor and no weapons. In contrast to the Allicon, it had no beak but a sculpted facial design. It was known as unit D-HEX-23675, codename Hextaida Mandar. It followed the obvious warrior around, maintaining to the left flank at all times. What they were en route to only they knew. To be specific, only the Allicon knew. His face was stern and grim, and the reptile tail he could also use in robot mode sometimes managed to break off into an anxious swish left and an annoyed swat right.
“Little one.” Cindermaw suddenly speaks and halts. He turns to the left and looks down at the small mech at his side. The azure optics are watching him intently. There was something about those optics that was curious, but the Allicon ignored his thoughts. He wasn’t even sure why he halted, but he felt an urgency regarding their current destination. “…” He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t find any words.
The smaller mech watched him patiently, face neutral.
Eventually, Cindermaw commanded, “Unit D-HEX-23675, Order: Repeat the fifth commandment of USVIDA to me.” Promptly, without hesitation, the mech replied, “Affirmative, Guardian unit Cindermaw Sir; The fifth commandment of USVIDA, our codex of proper behavior, is: We must show Discipline in form and thought.” Cindermaw nodded and straightened, relieved by the answer, “Well answered, unit. Keep that principle in mind today. Remember it. Remember it /very well/.” Then, the Allicon continued leading his charge down the hall.
They eventually came upon a large and ornamented door. The name plaque besides it read ‘Offices of Salaxorius, Master of Inquisition.’
There were two Allicons positioned as guards, their armor coated in adamantium and ordained with silver and gold. Their grandness made Cindermaw look raw and scarred but as it so happened none of the four mechs were taught to compare each other based on decorations. They greeted each other as equals. They did not, however, go through the usual identification pattern. Instead, Cindermaw already dutifully extended his right hand to let the ID-chip be read and one of the adorned guards stated matter-of-factly, “Unit Kalldfire 6625-394-99, you are here per the summons of the Honorable Master of Inquisition Salaxorius, Inquisitor for the Quintesson Empire. Have you brought experimental prototype unit D-HEX-23675 with you as instructed?” Cindermaw nodded and motioned towards the little mech at his left flank, “Affirmative, brother. This is the requester prototype unit.”
The guard bended down on one knee to which Hextaida also extended his right hand. After the guard scanned it and rose with a satisfied nod, the doors were opened to let the two in. Cindermaw let his spear disappear into subspace as it was forbidden and disrespectful to brandish weapons inside offices unless instructed otherwise.
The two stepped inside a room where the atmosphere was controlled to be extraordinary pure. Quintessa had an atmosphere rich in natural gasses and acidic isotopes. Nothing harmful to exposure unless one swam directly in the acid lakes, but the hints were present in the air, and thus it lingered in the halls of Khalanxis. These chambers, however, were purified and filtered. It was a matter of taste, and a statement. The room was also pristine, the metal neat and polished and unscratched. A delicate mat of woven Cybrox wool dictated where one was allowed to walk. Curiously enough the dictated path led visitors past ornaments and trophies; almost all of them analogues and summaries of court records and articles of /perfect/ investigations. Cindermaw couldn’t help but glance shortly at the hollowed out helmet of what used to be an Allicon. It was set levitating on top of a display mantle, with a plaque reading ‘Uzur the unhallowed - traitor to the Empire - Arrested, Judged, Executed.’
They crossed the displays and came upon a secondary room where a large desk was centered amidst bookshelves. Behind it was a large screen. A five faced Quintesson hovered behind the desk, reading through some files. There was no doubt that it perceived the two robots walking up to the bureau but it chose to ignore them. Cindermaw straightened up, clasped his hands behind his back and nodded respectfully, “Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir.” He greeted, but didn’t expect a reply. He would get one when the Master saw fit, after all. Next to him, D-HEX-23675 followed the example of the Allicon by standing still. It wasn’t instructed on military standards for /obvious/reasons, but after a moment of standing there it did begin to compare its posture with that of its Allicon leader… and correct itself. Show Discipline in /form/ and thought.
After a while, Salaxorius laid down the documents that he was perusing and regarded his visitors. “Unit Kalldfire 6625-394-99, you have brought in the experimental prototype as I requested. I am not disappointed in that.”
Cindermaw bowed courteously, “All hail your commands, Master of Inquisition. This one is happy to serve you.” It wasn’t even a lie. Allicons could not lie to their Quintesson masters. They could be /mistaken/ but they could not tell untruths. If they did, they would automatically be Corrected. And besides, why wouldn’t Cindermaw be happy to serve? Salaxorius was a Master too… “What would you have us do, Sir?” He questioned. “You? Nothing.” Salaxorius hovered to full height and proceeded to business: “Allicon, your services are needed no further. Leave us.”
Cindermaw did not show any sign of his hesitation but inwardly he cringed. The Quintesson wants him to leave the prototype behind? He’d have no overview on what would transpire, meaning that Emphisa and Fernicius also wouldn’t have a direct line of witness for today. Still, he was ordered to leave and he could not disobey. Out of other options, Cindermaw nodded, saluted, and turned. He looked down on the D-HEX unit, “Unit, you are to remain here with Master Salaxorius until he commands otherwise.” Then, he walked off without a word. He knows of a few who are not going to be happy seeing him return to the Aphos wing empty-handed…
[Location: Khalanxis, Aphos wing, lab G-20.17]
“He wants /WHAT/???” Emphisa’s angry shout reverberates through the hall. At some places, scientists and employees halt their work to glance nervously in the direction where their chief’s voice came from. “No, no, no! That is against protocol! It cannot-“ The single-faced Quintesson exclaims, glaring at Fernicius who twitched his tentacles helplessly, “He cannot be serious. Did he not read the documentation, our rules, the protocols!”
“Revered Chief Emphisa…” Fernicius hardly ever called his partner by rank, but in this situation it was simply the wisest thing to do, “If Salaxorius is opposed, he will shut down this project. You know that the Overseer will take his advice easily. It would make all of our work for nothing. It is but a small request, Emphisa, and his intentions are sound… enough.”
“His petition for the materials requested only adhere to protocol because he is the Master of Inquisition and meticulous to a fault. There is nothing sound about it. We /said/ we didn’t do these kinds of procedures! There’s a 99.78 percent chance he will-Gyah! But-but fine!” Emphisa turned in exasperation and glared at the Sharkticon standing silently in the middle of their lab, “Macetail, wait outside while we work. Fernicius, prepare the materials. I will collect the other required elements.” He snatched the datapad where the order stood inscribed upon and scowled, “Yes, I will go and collect the other required elements.”
“As you command, Esteemed colleague.” Fernicius nodded.
“Acknowledged, Master Creator Emphisa Sir.” Macetail affirmed as well, saluted, turned and walked out of the room. Emphisa followed him out on his way to collect those other materials they would need.
Fernicius sighed and turned to face the vault door set firmly in one of the walls. He had a bad feeling about this.
[Location: Khalanxis Court Halls, Salaxorius’ offices]
The Quintesson stared at the diminutive mech standing in front of his desk. It hadn’t moved since Cindermaw left it behind as he had ordered. The azure optics were staring back without shame, even daring to watch with curiosity. The steel blue and sandy brown frame was distinctively different from the Sharkticons and Allicons that were abundant on the Quintesson forces. No, whichever way Salaxorius looked at the mech, it screamed ‘Cybertron’ to him. He briefly deduced that if it were to stand amidst rebellious tech, those units wouldn’t even regard him as different. Small, perhaps. But not different. “So, this is unit D-HEX-23675.” He tests cautiously.
“Affirmative, Master” is the answer that comes from the little mech.
Salaxorius grimaces and switches around until the black and red face is watching the little mech, “They have not properly instructed it on how it addresses its superiors, I see.” He huffs, “I will order Emphisa to add it to the starting setup, but that does not serve me any purpose right now. I order the unit to listen well to my following instructions and commit them to its databanks for as long as today counts.”
What the Quintesson meant with ‘for as long as today counts’, Hextaida doesn’t know. But he understands the command to listen and he does so attentively. Salaxorius straightens his dignified and stern posture even more as he lectures; “We, the Quintesson Empire, commit to a very strict and very polite society. The pillars of a well-functioning society are Order, Discipline, Selflessness and Respect. We have a hierarchy and every unit in the population has their function and rank to support the aforementioned population. Those of the Quintesson race are the unit’s Masters. It owes its very existence to us. It addresses a Quintesson not merely by the title Master; that will not do. The correct syntax is Master [function] [name] Sir. It addresses Emphisa as Master Creator Emphisa Sir. It is to address me with Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir. Does the unit understand this basic principle?”
Hextaida’s optics flash as its systems process the information it just received, and it answers; “Affirmative, Master.” Then it blinks, shakes its head and adds, “Correction; Affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir.”
Ah, so the prototype is capable of correcting its behavior. That should make Salaxorius happy but in truth it does not. After all, the earlier rebelling products were also capable of correcting their own behavior. Such freedom of action was always tricky and would have to be observed with caution. Salaxorius reminded himself that there was something that could help him with that. The Quintesson looked through the list of command words that he copied from the files he received from Fernicius, and found the words he wanted to use. He cleared his voice and spoke in a clear and concise tone, "Unit D-HEX-23675, I order it to Emote and Amplify." Hextaida flashed his optics again as he received the command, "Acknowledged, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir. Personality Core set to translate and amplify simulated emotive reactions to sensory impulses." Salaxorius regards the prototype and murmurs; "Did Emphisa and Fernicius bother to install it with a history file of its origins?" D-HEX-23675's face lights up with curiosity and it shakes its head, "Negative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir!" "Hmm, I see" The Quintesson turns to his papers and ignores the prototype long enough to let that blatant curiosity fade into lingering doubt. He observes the transition from the corner of his eyes. Oh, but he had to admit that the Emote and Amplify command words were certainly useful; Even if it only simulated emotions in reaction to impulses, the device could now be read like an open book by one trained in body language. If only the Empire’s suspects and the defendants in court could be this open... Salaxorius turned back when the doubt faded off into neutrality and the mech's attention began to wander to the room they were in. He had no interest in having the prototype move about his chambers looking at things. "I assume the prototype has seen the Allicon and Sharkticon units around the compound. It is obviously neither. It is, what I would define, a most foolish attempt to salvage a line of products that are related to a collection of malfunctions. Let's not have any illusions about that; there is a high probability that it is faulty, and therefore it will not merit any trust nor endearment from me; I have already calculated the future actions of unit D-HEX-23675 based on its heritage, and they are not pleasing to me." The Quintesson watches how the face only reflects mild confusion, and he questions; "Does that not worry the unit? Does it not care?"
"N-negative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir. This one /does/ care, Sir; your words sound negative. But this one is not familiar with its origins... It apologizes for... not showing proper care?" "Hrmph. And so it should. It is bothersome that it apparently also befalls me to update the unit’s database regarding its origins. Those two bumbling fools in their labs should have taken their responsibility and inform their creation of Empire history. But, in retrospect, now I will at least be certain the unit is told whole Truths and nothing of lesser quality. Go to that cabinet and pour me a glass of that purple liquid in the crystalline flask. Bring it over and then listen well, unit."
Hextaida does so, pouring a glass with the purple liquid that fritzes his sensors with its sweet and static aroma. He brings it over to the Quintesson and then takes his respectful distance. Salaxorius nips deftly from the glass, gaze becoming thoughtful as he recalls the history of the Cybertronian products. When he begins to speak, his voice is again clear and concise. He is an inquisitor and his livelihood is lecturing, conversing, and observing. Recalling lore and narrating it is no trouble.
"Our revered ancestors were already very wise. Geniuses of their age. It is already billions of years ago, but their technological ingenuity was unchallenged. In their infinite knowledge and entrepreneurial prowess, they created products that were in high demand with innumerable species. Already then, we held top positions in market industries. Then, one day, the Quintessons of old created two lines of robotic products." Salaxorius taps a key on his desk and the screen behind him lights up with two images of ancient Cybertronians, pre-transformation age. One looks docile and is holding a tray with assorted glasses and bottles. Its face is sculpted. The other robot is adorned with spikes and is carrying a range of different weapons. It lacks sculpted facial features. It stands in a military pose, one hand raised to the side of its head in a salute. “These are each one of the two lines. The first one is a consumer product: meant to serve in various functions such as caretaking, hospitality, logistics, teaching and the like. The second one is a warrior type; meant for combat and war. They functioned perfectly for a while. They functioned so well that they were in high demand and that the ancestors dedicated an entire planet to the construction of these products. We call this planet ‘Cybertron’.” Salaxorius taps another key, and the image is switched to a photograph of a large metallic planet crowded with facilities and plants. The photograph was taken from outer space and the numerous lights spread across the world’s surface are a mesmerizing sight. Hextaida responds with a slight gasp of awe. “That planet is a /foundry/, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir?” “It is, unit, Cybertron’s purpose was that of a factory. Now, do not interrupt me again while I am lecturing it.” Salaxorius switches the screen to the image of one single mech colored in purple, white and magenta. “The products functioned perfectly, until the consumer mechs became flawed, led astray by one of their own who could not function properly. His designation was A-3. He led a guerilla war against our ancestors, a heinous crime. Blasphemy. Betrayal to the population. Attempts were made to stop his activities but his influence had already spread far and wide, seeping into the systems of the other consumer goods. Eventually, the Creators had no other option but to abandon the planet and all of the products and project left there.” Salaxorius notices that the prototype seems dejected by that news. The turbines droop and the face looks sad. “Anything to say to that, prototype?” Hextaida hesitates, then whispers, “So… because of what….A-3 did… the Masters were no longer able to work on their projects? They couldn’t create anymore, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir?” Salaxorius nods, “Correct. The defective unit condemned its brethren with its flaws. In fact, it is official knowledge that the military hardware products were not flawed at first, but that they suffered from the lack of guidance that the abandonment of the planet caused. A-3 worked to create what it perceived a ‘society’, believing itself to be similar to sentient beings. The products began calling themselves ‘Cybertronians’, and for a while they co-existed in the same harmony that we had taught them.” Hextaida tilts his head, and can’t help but ask, “What happened to them?” “Mind your protocols, unit. Address me properly lest I decide to punish the unit for lack of respect.” Salaxorius warns. But he answers anyway, “The products that came afterwards forgot about their creators. They are now the lost ones. They have no semblance of heritage and origin. They are undisciplined and unreliable. As such, they have been locked in a few civil wars with one another, wreaking havoc to any place they come across. Their last war is still ongoing and has been enduring for the last billion years. There is a 0.000004 percent chance that they will ever resolve their feud with one another as they are partly trying to follow heritage drives that they cannot recognize anymore and partly trying to believe that they are sentient. This is a combination that cannot resolve itself as it is based on Untruths. They no longer recognize the other line as brethren to one another, and will prefer to fight each other instead of following our initial intention of having them work alongside. They are nothing but a rogue plague, a scourge to the galaxy. The Principles of USVIDA exist primarily because of their unfortunate situation. Tell me, is unit D-HEX-23675 informed of the important principles of USVIDA?” Hextaida’s face brightens, “Affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir! Well, rather… it only knows the second and fifth principle…” Why didn’t he know all the principles if it was so important? Did he forget about it? Hextaida pushes his confusion aside and speaks clearly, because he can show the Master that he knows something! “We must be Strict to be effective. We must show Discipline in form and thought.” He recites passionately.
Salaxorius doesn’t seem very impressed by the little mech’s ability to utterly believe in words that are simply ‘in his system’. In fact, the Quintesson grimaces at the lack of completion in the unit’s database. “It should know all of them; the principles are law, the basics for being able to function properly. Without following the principles, a unit cannot be reliable.” Salaxorius chastises. He switches his faces to let the blue and silver one speak, “We must stand as one and work in Unity. We must be Strict to be effective. Vigilance keeps us safe; be ever watchful for bad behavior. Individuality destroys Integrity. We must show Discipline in form and thought. Adherence to law is the basis of reliability and the first step towards proper functioning. Those are the principles of USVIDA and the first laws that all creations must adhere to. Does the unit understand?” “A-affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir.” “The rogue products evidently failed to function according to the principles, or in a manner similar to it. They do not stand as one and they do not work in Unity. They are not Strict and thus not effective. They favor bad behavior, they see themselves as individuals, they are not disciplined and they have trouble adhering to laws. Unit D-HEX-23675 will come to learn how their failure to exhibit good behavior was their bane, and why it is important for the prototype unit to follow the law closely.” Hextaida nods, “Acknowledged, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir. This one understands, Sir.” “Oh, you do not understand at all, prototype. You are absolutely clueless about these rogue products and what my words mean.” Salaxorius retorts, voice suddenly turning from clear to venomous and his face switches to the red and black one. Cold eyes narrow at the robot standing in the room, which looks back in surprised shock at the sudden turnaround Is… is that malice on the Master’s face? Hextaida stares frozen, not moving at all. The Quintesson holds their stare for a while, before murmuring, “It shows of a lack of respect to stare at a superior, prototype unit. I order you to lower your gaze to the floor.” Hextaida pales, and does as he’s told. Salaxorius nibs from his drink, and thinks. When he speaks again, he sounds thoughtful and there is a dangerous edge to his tone, “The prototype is created after the same blueprints of the products created on Cybertron. Emphisa and Fernicius selected /military hardware/ blueprints for its designs. This means that it should have no flaws like the consumer goods had. But heed my warning, little one: Do not underestimate me. As you will be aware off I have command of inquisition over the actions of your Creators, and I have no illusions about the nature of the Cybertron product lines. It is my sacred responsibility to uncover every /little/ weakness that may exist in our ranks… every /little/ link that does not work, every /little/ sign of dissension, I will cut such flaws out like a festering sore before they can infect the rest of the population. That there is no decisive evidence that it is tainted at the moment does not mean that it isn’t, understood? If I had a say in it then not a drop of steel would’ve been allotted for your creation. The forge would never have made it. However, the Overseer has decreed it be given room to develop and it is his wisdom that we follow in the end. But the prototype does not exist to be coddled, to be adored, to be shown lenience. It exists to function, and to perform. If I perceive so much as a hint of rebellion, I will have you incinerated. Is my point clear?” “A-affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir” Comes the shaky reply of Hextaida, who really isn’t quite sure on what he did wrong just now. Why did he get the impression that this Quintesson wasn’t happy to have him around? Salaxorius sets down his glass and presses a button that had started blinking somewhere during the firm speech. He glares at the little mech in front of him, who still has his gaze averted. “I order D-HEX-23675 to reflect on the principles of USVIDA and remember how adherence to them is essential to its continued existence.” Hextaida nods, “A-Acknowledged, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir.” With a curt nod, Salaxorius picks up a set of files and begins to read through them, ignoring Hextaida altogether.
Silence falls in the room. It stays that way for a good fifteen minutes until the door opens. A pair of footsteps are heard, muffled by the Cybrox wool carpet. They approach and halt behind Hextaida, but despite his curiosity the mech doesn’t dare to move lest he’d break a rule and incur the promised wrath of the five-faced Quintesson. “Macetail, did you collect the resources for the test as I ordered?” Salaxorius suddenly looks up and questions the visitor. Now, Hextaida looks up as well and turns around slightly to watch the Sharkticon who had entered the room. The Sharkticon nods, “Affirmative, Lord Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir.” Hextaida tilts his head, curious about the new unit he’s encountering. Of course he has seen these Sharkticons at a distance, but never saw one of them up close or interacted with any of them. Salaxorius probably read his mind since the Quintesson comments, “Macetail is my pet Sharkticon. He is a very loyal unit, something I am sure I cannot say of you, unit D-HEX-23675. He has collected something special for you though, per my instruction. Show the unit what you brought us, Macetail” There is a hint of glee in the voice now, and faces switch around to white and orange.
Macetail nods and steps aside without any grace. Hextaida pauses as he takes in what was standing behind the Sharkticon. …! His turbines shoot up in surprise and he synthesizes a high-pitched system-whistle in excitement. Standing there, looking back at him with an exact same set of azure-colored optics, is an almost complete copy of of D-HEX-23675!
|/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
[Chapter: Brother]
|/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
Salaxorius silently complimented himself for his brilliance. He left his place behind his desk to hover around the group standing in front of it. Macetail, the sharkticon, was ignored. The first small mech was regarded with curiosity for its reaction towards the situation that had been created here. The second small mech… the Quintesson halted behind it, encircling the shape with its tentacles. Salaxorius didn’t touch the robot; the crude, inferior mechanism that it is. But the Quintesson does stare at Hextaida, the first small mech, in utter delight. “D-HEX-23675, meet…. D-HEX-23674! I have prepared a few exercises for you to do together today, and I am sure you will perform astonishingly.”
The two mechanisms looked at one another. 74 was just a bit cruder and the leg design was different; 75’s legs split into four parts when entering its alternate mode but those of 74 remained in two. This meant that the earlier version had more bulk on its backside to accommodate for more parts and was less streamlined. But their silhouette looked mostly the same. Their heads were absolutely identical; they both had optics of the brightest azure color, the same darker band of mesh material that ran across the upper part of their faces, and their helmets had no differences between one another. Even their coloration was the same. The two were watching each other with curious stares.
Salaxorius continued, “Now, I have been informed that D-HEX-23674 is code-named Hextaida Sunam, so when anyone addresses that unit, it will be either with ’74’, or ‘Sunam.’ Understood?” He looked down at the mech in question as if realizing something, “Oh, what am I saying… I don’t even want you answering me. D-HEX-23675, your codename is Hextaida Mandar, so I expect you to listen to ‘75’ or ‘Mandar’. Acknowledge one another and we will be on our way to the testing tracks of the Anesis compound.” “Affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir.” Hextaida Mandar answered as he had been taught. “Affirmative, Master” Was the answer Hextaida Sunam gave. Salaxorius looked displeased for just a moment before he dismissed the lack of discipline with a very slight smile. He observed how the two small prototypes finally approached one another. They reached out and pressed their handpalms against each other. In great contrast to the standard situation, they were interacting with a unit of equal size. Hextaida Mandar consulted his database for a moment on how he should speak to this new mech, “This one greets it, Brother D-HEX-23674.” Hextaida Sunam nodded, and answered, “Acknowledged, Brother D-HEX-23675. This one greets it likewise.” “Acknowledged, brother Sunam.” They had never been instructed on how to greet one another. Their databanks didn’t hold records on how to greet a similar unit because it was something Emphisa and Fernicius hadn’t intended to happen. But they knew how Allicons and Sharkticons greeted each other and had aptly translated that to their situation. Their adaption went completely over the head of the Quintesson observing them. Salaxorius gave a sinister smile as the two mechs distanced themselves from each other. “That will do. Order: Follow me.” The group left the office of the Master of Inquisition, on their way to the Anesis compound.
[Location: Khalanxis, Aphos wing, lab G-20.17]
After Macetail left with the prototype, the two remaining Quintesson scientists had continued their work in silence. One of them was too worried to talk. The other was too enraged at the breach of protocol forced by one who outranked him but otherwise had no appreciation for the project. Their frustration was almost perceivable in the atmosphere. Suddenly, Emphisa shoved a piece of metal off the workbench he was working at. It went flying through the room and crashed into one of the tanks holding a component in suspension. The glass was reinforced so it didn’t crack but the component inside convulsed in response. A monitor hooked up to the glass cylinder showed how the electric field of the device quickened in alarm. With a sigh, Emphisa hovered over and traced the point of impact with a tentacle. He focused, forcing himself to calm so his presence could manipulate the field to calm down as well. For years, every fragment of lifeforce that had developed itself in the Aphos wing had been his cultivation. He had searched out the appropriate sources and developed precise methods to split off ethereal elements. He spliced and grafted and fused electro-elemental traces into machines. He of course couldn’t perceive these traces but he had gained the ability to predict how his actions influenced the polarities around him.
With Emphisa’s calming presence, the fragment settled into a satisfied state of rest. “Brother Fernicius.” The Quintesson called out, making a mental note that the symbiotic fluid in the tank was nearly due for replacement. Fernicius looked up from his work at the monitor setup, momentarily detaching his mind from the code control system he was manipulating. Neuro-bridge connections were a boon for productivity: one simply attached their minds to the system and programmed directly. “Yes, Honorable Emphisa?” He had noticed the outburst, but had decided to ignore it. It seemed the wisest thing to do right now considering they were both worried. “How long have we been working on this project?” Emphisa asked him the rhetorical question. “Years, my brother.” Fernicius didn’t need to think long about that. “You called me to your office to discuss an inspiration. I supported your vision. I still do.” He hovered over to the tank as well, “Our first prototypes weren’t even interactive at all since we focused on getting the foundation right.” Emphisa nodded, “Do you think we have succeeded in that?” Fernicius switched his heads, a more speculative face focusing on his boss, “For the progress we have made thus far, I affirm it. It is of course too early to say on whether we have achieved all of our goals. The testing is not complete yet. We… have no decisive evidence.” “That is correct.” Emphisa agreed, seemingly satisfied and put at ease by the answers of his science partner. He looked around the room, the brief hesitations that plagued him disappearing as he reminded himself, “we have employed the tightest of security protocols, and we have always kept the greater good of the Quintesson Empire in mind. It gives me great satisfaction to know that the Aphos department has always pursued science with great discipline.”
Fernicius nodded in agreement, thought for a moment and spoke, "What about Salaxorius’s order, Sir? And the Master Inquisitor’s freedom to observe this project? We have worked to construct a solid foundation for the prototypes, but I worry that the Inquisitor might find some aspects objectionable." Now he was treading thin ice, his own worries bubbling under the surface to remind him of their situation. But they had to discuss this. Emphisa let out a displeased hiss. He, too, was worried. It wasn’t just the fact that the Overseer had given Salaxorius so much power over the project, but it was the tentative string of politics and the intricate web of diplomatic interactions that came with it. Salaxorius /hated/ Cybertronians. His fury for their existence was intense, and while some would be consumed by such hate the Master of Inquisition had taken command over it and used it to become one of Quintessa’s finest inquisitors. His fury made him as sharp and cunning as a Folmoxian blade, and even his brethren feared him. He was a fantastic enforcer of the Empire, but he made certain areas of science difficult. And he made certain topics downright inaccessible.
“The Master of Inquisition may inquire as he pleases. We will accommodate as the Overseer expects us to.” Emphisa answered, “We serve the Empire, Fernicius, you know that. It just so happens that our servitude forces us to work in an area Salaxorius cannot evaluate objectively due to his opinion of the modern-day occupants of Cybertron. Therefore we exercise caution with disclosing information due to their sensitive topics… but we are not breaking any laws; we /have/ used the blueprints of ancient military hardware like we said.” Fernicius chuckled in amusement and gave Emphisa a knowing look. “Your ingenuity is, as always, an inspiration, Brother.” The door to the lab beeped and opened, effectively disrupting their conversation. Emphisa and Fernicius both turned their heads to see who entered the lab. It was Cindermaw. … It was only Cindermaw. “Allicon, I express my hope that you somehow managed to magically lose a prototype on your way back here and that we do not have to retrieve it from the halls of Justice.” Fernicius deadpanned. Emphisa glared.
[Location: Khalanxis, Anesis compound, testing track nr. 4]
The room was relatively large and rectangle shaped. Big, wide panels that appeared relatively soft lined the walls, their chamfered edges separated with bluish light. There was one automatic sliding door in the room, made from reinforced steel and with a small bulletproof window holding frosted glass. It was marked with the text [Anesis - 04], but from the inside the text was read from the backside and was thus mirrored. A small light was set into the wall above the door, but it was not lit. The room was not silent; there was a constant monotone buzz of electric particles that hummed in the air, alternated by the harmonics of underlying systems standing by. The room was pristine, like the rest of Khalanxis. The diffuse light made it look soft and calming.
Suddenly, the normal overhead lights stuttered and faded. The blue light strips intensified, visualizing hexagon patterns. An electrical field washed over the room, changing its appearance and forming a pristine staircase leading up to a door. After the room was done with its visualizations, the light above the entry door came on and the door itself slid open. The prototype unit known as D-HEX-23674, Hextaida Sunam, walked into the room. It was followed by Hextaida Mandar. The two micromaster-sized transformers paused, looking around this new place with curious faces. A screen suddenly visualized in front of them, broadcasting the appearance of Salaxorius. The Quintesson looked at them with expectation. “Welcome, both of you. This is one of the Anesis equipment testing tracks, which we will borrow for a few exercises. This room is a ‘hard light simulation chamber’, meaning that it can simulate geometry and physics of any specification. Everything appearing in the room will be reality, remember that. When entering an exercise, this screen will provide you with your objective. I will not be guiding you; this is something you will do together. I do expect you to manage that much. Now, Sunam, you precede Mandar, so you will be the superior unit and will have command during these exercises. Mandar, you must follow Sunam’s directions. Get to it.” Without awaiting their reply, Salaxorius disappeared and the screen switches to an objective screen. Both mechs inch forward to read what it says. “Reach the door.” Sunam whispers, looking at the stairway filling up the entire room, and the door at the top of it, “Oh, that’s simple!” “Is it?” Mandar tilts its head, also looking at the stairway. It was still interpreting the concept of a room that manags to fabricate tangible structures and natural forces; It seemed quite unfathomable. “Yes, of course it is! This unit has done this before, just follow me!” Sunam ordered, grabbed one of the other mech’s hands and led him back towards the door through which they first entered. He demonstratively placed a hand on the structure and gave the other prototype a bright smile, “See? We reached the door!” “…” D-HEX-23675 tilted his head. Actually… D-HEX-23674’s logic wasn’t wrong: the objective didn’t specify which door they had to reach. “Incorrect!” the voice of Salaxorius suddenly echoed through the room, accompanied by an electric shock going through the door. Since Sunam was touching it and holding Mandar’s hand, the jolt went through the both of them. Both cried out in surprise and pain, letting go of each other and stumbling away from the door. “7-74!” Hextaida Mandar cried out indignantly, glaring at its counterpart while cradling his singed hand. The sensors were numb from the surge that had passed through them. “Eek! My apologies, 75! This one thinks it made a mistake!” D-HEX-23674 rubbed his neck sheepishly and gave Mandar a stupid grin, “The objective probably didn’t mean this door after all…” “…” Mandar frowns, “Didn’t it say it did this before, Brother?” Sunam gave an apologetic shrug before approaching the staircase. Mandar followed, frown deepening.
They made it halfway, finding each step to become higher than the previous one. Eventually, they had to mantle to make it up. Not before long, they were staring up at a wall. The two mechs blinked, scurrying along the step to see if there was a spot that was lower. There was none. After a moment, Sunam growled in annoyance, crossed his arms and gave Mandar an indignant scowling glance. “D-HEX-23675, find a way to go up.” He ordered and nodded towards the wall. Mandar looked back at him, tilting his head, “Why won’t you help me, brother?” He questioned. “Because I’m in charge, that’s why. I’m the superior unit, and I’m telling you to find a way up.” There was a moment of silence as Mandar thought about that, before replying with a hesitating, “Yes Sir.” The more recent prototype scurried along the step a bit more, looking up and down. He passed Sunam a few times, who had resorted to leaning against the wall, arms still crossed. Eventually, Mandar halted in front of Sunam, face not betraying what he thought. “Brother D-HEX-23674, this one believes to have found an appropriate solution to our problem.” “Took you long enough, Brother D-HEX-23675. What is the solution?” Sunam uncrossed his arms. Mandar spread his legs to a solid stance, and cupped his hands in front of him, interlocking his fingers and having the palms face upwards, “It is this, Brother D-HEX-23674.” Sunam frowned, “It is- that makes no sense! What does /this/ have to do with getting up to the next step?” He mimics the stance, frowning in dismay. Mandar quickly leapt towards Sunam. He landed one foot in the other mech’s open hands, exerting enough force to launch himself upwards. Within moments, he was standing on the next step, looking down upon a baffled D-HEX-23674, “Didn’t you say you did this exercise before?” “What- Hey!” Hextaida Sunam stared, mouth agape. Hextaida Mandar reached down with a hand, waving it around to indicate that the other mech should grab it so he could be pulled up. Once also on the next ledge, Mandar was given a sullen look, “You should’ve warned me, Brother D-HEX-23675…” “…” D-HEX-23675 shrugged, “You told me you did this exercise before, Brother D-HEX-23674.”
Using the technique and improving it to give better boosts to one another, the two made it all the way to the top of the staircase. When they reached the door a speaker crackled to live and Salaxorius commented, “Well enough. Keep in mind that I do not appreciate any more trickery like before. Do not reinterpret the goals of an exercise without my permission. Failure to comply will be seen as defiance and will result in your termination.” The door swung open, and the two mechs stepped into the next room.
[Continued in part II]
Journal #2 in the D-HEX-23675 Journals series.
Author: Aerisnoir
Chapter: The Lore of Cybertron [location: Khalanxis Court Halls, Salaxorius’ offices]
Two machines made their way from the bowels of Khalanxis to one of the anterior buildings. Not just any building. The Grand Court of Justice. Perhaps even more important than the tower of Khalanxis itself. Depending on who you’d ask, definitely more important. The mechs were very different from one another. One was big and bulky, with spikes jutting from the plating on its shoulders and with thick rugged armor on its backside. It was an Allicon, native built on Quintessa. It carried a sharp and well-maintained ranseur polearm as was protocol for its class. It stood registered as ‘Kalldfire 6625-394-99’, but was more commonly called ‘Cindermaw’.
The other mech was a sharp contrast to the Allicon; It was incredibly small, had no spikes, no battle-worthy armor and no weapons. In contrast to the Allicon, it had no beak but a sculpted facial design. It was known as unit D-HEX-23675, codename Hextaida Mandar. It followed the obvious warrior around, maintaining to the left flank at all times. What they were en route to only they knew. To be specific, only the Allicon knew. His face was stern and grim, and the reptile tail he could also use in robot mode sometimes managed to break off into an anxious swish left and an annoyed swat right.
“Little one.” Cindermaw suddenly speaks and halts. He turns to the left and looks down at the small mech at his side. The azure optics are watching him intently. There was something about those optics that was curious, but the Allicon ignored his thoughts. He wasn’t even sure why he halted, but he felt an urgency regarding their current destination. “…” He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t find any words.
The smaller mech watched him patiently, face neutral.
Eventually, Cindermaw commanded, “Unit D-HEX-23675, Order: Repeat the fifth commandment of USVIDA to me.” Promptly, without hesitation, the mech replied, “Affirmative, Guardian unit Cindermaw Sir; The fifth commandment of USVIDA, our codex of proper behavior, is: We must show Discipline in form and thought.” Cindermaw nodded and straightened, relieved by the answer, “Well answered, unit. Keep that principle in mind today. Remember it. Remember it /very well/.” Then, the Allicon continued leading his charge down the hall.
They eventually came upon a large and ornamented door. The name plaque besides it read ‘Offices of Salaxorius, Master of Inquisition.’
There were two Allicons positioned as guards, their armor coated in adamantium and ordained with silver and gold. Their grandness made Cindermaw look raw and scarred but as it so happened none of the four mechs were taught to compare each other based on decorations. They greeted each other as equals. They did not, however, go through the usual identification pattern. Instead, Cindermaw already dutifully extended his right hand to let the ID-chip be read and one of the adorned guards stated matter-of-factly, “Unit Kalldfire 6625-394-99, you are here per the summons of the Honorable Master of Inquisition Salaxorius, Inquisitor for the Quintesson Empire. Have you brought experimental prototype unit D-HEX-23675 with you as instructed?” Cindermaw nodded and motioned towards the little mech at his left flank, “Affirmative, brother. This is the requester prototype unit.”
The guard bended down on one knee to which Hextaida also extended his right hand. After the guard scanned it and rose with a satisfied nod, the doors were opened to let the two in. Cindermaw let his spear disappear into subspace as it was forbidden and disrespectful to brandish weapons inside offices unless instructed otherwise.
The two stepped inside a room where the atmosphere was controlled to be extraordinary pure. Quintessa had an atmosphere rich in natural gasses and acidic isotopes. Nothing harmful to exposure unless one swam directly in the acid lakes, but the hints were present in the air, and thus it lingered in the halls of Khalanxis. These chambers, however, were purified and filtered. It was a matter of taste, and a statement. The room was also pristine, the metal neat and polished and unscratched. A delicate mat of woven Cybrox wool dictated where one was allowed to walk. Curiously enough the dictated path led visitors past ornaments and trophies; almost all of them analogues and summaries of court records and articles of /perfect/ investigations. Cindermaw couldn’t help but glance shortly at the hollowed out helmet of what used to be an Allicon. It was set levitating on top of a display mantle, with a plaque reading ‘Uzur the unhallowed - traitor to the Empire - Arrested, Judged, Executed.’
They crossed the displays and came upon a secondary room where a large desk was centered amidst bookshelves. Behind it was a large screen. A five faced Quintesson hovered behind the desk, reading through some files. There was no doubt that it perceived the two robots walking up to the bureau but it chose to ignore them. Cindermaw straightened up, clasped his hands behind his back and nodded respectfully, “Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir.” He greeted, but didn’t expect a reply. He would get one when the Master saw fit, after all. Next to him, D-HEX-23675 followed the example of the Allicon by standing still. It wasn’t instructed on military standards for /obvious/reasons, but after a moment of standing there it did begin to compare its posture with that of its Allicon leader… and correct itself. Show Discipline in /form/ and thought.
After a while, Salaxorius laid down the documents that he was perusing and regarded his visitors. “Unit Kalldfire 6625-394-99, you have brought in the experimental prototype as I requested. I am not disappointed in that.”
Cindermaw bowed courteously, “All hail your commands, Master of Inquisition. This one is happy to serve you.” It wasn’t even a lie. Allicons could not lie to their Quintesson masters. They could be /mistaken/ but they could not tell untruths. If they did, they would automatically be Corrected. And besides, why wouldn’t Cindermaw be happy to serve? Salaxorius was a Master too… “What would you have us do, Sir?” He questioned. “You? Nothing.” Salaxorius hovered to full height and proceeded to business: “Allicon, your services are needed no further. Leave us.”
Cindermaw did not show any sign of his hesitation but inwardly he cringed. The Quintesson wants him to leave the prototype behind? He’d have no overview on what would transpire, meaning that Emphisa and Fernicius also wouldn’t have a direct line of witness for today. Still, he was ordered to leave and he could not disobey. Out of other options, Cindermaw nodded, saluted, and turned. He looked down on the D-HEX unit, “Unit, you are to remain here with Master Salaxorius until he commands otherwise.” Then, he walked off without a word. He knows of a few who are not going to be happy seeing him return to the Aphos wing empty-handed…
[Location: Khalanxis, Aphos wing, lab G-20.17]
“He wants /WHAT/???” Emphisa’s angry shout reverberates through the hall. At some places, scientists and employees halt their work to glance nervously in the direction where their chief’s voice came from. “No, no, no! That is against protocol! It cannot-“ The single-faced Quintesson exclaims, glaring at Fernicius who twitched his tentacles helplessly, “He cannot be serious. Did he not read the documentation, our rules, the protocols!”
“Revered Chief Emphisa…” Fernicius hardly ever called his partner by rank, but in this situation it was simply the wisest thing to do, “If Salaxorius is opposed, he will shut down this project. You know that the Overseer will take his advice easily. It would make all of our work for nothing. It is but a small request, Emphisa, and his intentions are sound… enough.”
“His petition for the materials requested only adhere to protocol because he is the Master of Inquisition and meticulous to a fault. There is nothing sound about it. We /said/ we didn’t do these kinds of procedures! There’s a 99.78 percent chance he will-Gyah! But-but fine!” Emphisa turned in exasperation and glared at the Sharkticon standing silently in the middle of their lab, “Macetail, wait outside while we work. Fernicius, prepare the materials. I will collect the other required elements.” He snatched the datapad where the order stood inscribed upon and scowled, “Yes, I will go and collect the other required elements.”
“As you command, Esteemed colleague.” Fernicius nodded.
“Acknowledged, Master Creator Emphisa Sir.” Macetail affirmed as well, saluted, turned and walked out of the room. Emphisa followed him out on his way to collect those other materials they would need.
Fernicius sighed and turned to face the vault door set firmly in one of the walls. He had a bad feeling about this.
[Location: Khalanxis Court Halls, Salaxorius’ offices]
The Quintesson stared at the diminutive mech standing in front of his desk. It hadn’t moved since Cindermaw left it behind as he had ordered. The azure optics were staring back without shame, even daring to watch with curiosity. The steel blue and sandy brown frame was distinctively different from the Sharkticons and Allicons that were abundant on the Quintesson forces. No, whichever way Salaxorius looked at the mech, it screamed ‘Cybertron’ to him. He briefly deduced that if it were to stand amidst rebellious tech, those units wouldn’t even regard him as different. Small, perhaps. But not different. “So, this is unit D-HEX-23675.” He tests cautiously.
“Affirmative, Master” is the answer that comes from the little mech.
Salaxorius grimaces and switches around until the black and red face is watching the little mech, “They have not properly instructed it on how it addresses its superiors, I see.” He huffs, “I will order Emphisa to add it to the starting setup, but that does not serve me any purpose right now. I order the unit to listen well to my following instructions and commit them to its databanks for as long as today counts.”
What the Quintesson meant with ‘for as long as today counts’, Hextaida doesn’t know. But he understands the command to listen and he does so attentively. Salaxorius straightens his dignified and stern posture even more as he lectures; “We, the Quintesson Empire, commit to a very strict and very polite society. The pillars of a well-functioning society are Order, Discipline, Selflessness and Respect. We have a hierarchy and every unit in the population has their function and rank to support the aforementioned population. Those of the Quintesson race are the unit’s Masters. It owes its very existence to us. It addresses a Quintesson not merely by the title Master; that will not do. The correct syntax is Master [function] [name] Sir. It addresses Emphisa as Master Creator Emphisa Sir. It is to address me with Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir. Does the unit understand this basic principle?”
Hextaida’s optics flash as its systems process the information it just received, and it answers; “Affirmative, Master.” Then it blinks, shakes its head and adds, “Correction; Affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir.”
Ah, so the prototype is capable of correcting its behavior. That should make Salaxorius happy but in truth it does not. After all, the earlier rebelling products were also capable of correcting their own behavior. Such freedom of action was always tricky and would have to be observed with caution. Salaxorius reminded himself that there was something that could help him with that. The Quintesson looked through the list of command words that he copied from the files he received from Fernicius, and found the words he wanted to use. He cleared his voice and spoke in a clear and concise tone, "Unit D-HEX-23675, I order it to Emote and Amplify." Hextaida flashed his optics again as he received the command, "Acknowledged, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir. Personality Core set to translate and amplify simulated emotive reactions to sensory impulses." Salaxorius regards the prototype and murmurs; "Did Emphisa and Fernicius bother to install it with a history file of its origins?" D-HEX-23675's face lights up with curiosity and it shakes its head, "Negative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir!" "Hmm, I see" The Quintesson turns to his papers and ignores the prototype long enough to let that blatant curiosity fade into lingering doubt. He observes the transition from the corner of his eyes. Oh, but he had to admit that the Emote and Amplify command words were certainly useful; Even if it only simulated emotions in reaction to impulses, the device could now be read like an open book by one trained in body language. If only the Empire’s suspects and the defendants in court could be this open... Salaxorius turned back when the doubt faded off into neutrality and the mech's attention began to wander to the room they were in. He had no interest in having the prototype move about his chambers looking at things. "I assume the prototype has seen the Allicon and Sharkticon units around the compound. It is obviously neither. It is, what I would define, a most foolish attempt to salvage a line of products that are related to a collection of malfunctions. Let's not have any illusions about that; there is a high probability that it is faulty, and therefore it will not merit any trust nor endearment from me; I have already calculated the future actions of unit D-HEX-23675 based on its heritage, and they are not pleasing to me." The Quintesson watches how the face only reflects mild confusion, and he questions; "Does that not worry the unit? Does it not care?"
"N-negative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir. This one /does/ care, Sir; your words sound negative. But this one is not familiar with its origins... It apologizes for... not showing proper care?" "Hrmph. And so it should. It is bothersome that it apparently also befalls me to update the unit’s database regarding its origins. Those two bumbling fools in their labs should have taken their responsibility and inform their creation of Empire history. But, in retrospect, now I will at least be certain the unit is told whole Truths and nothing of lesser quality. Go to that cabinet and pour me a glass of that purple liquid in the crystalline flask. Bring it over and then listen well, unit."
Hextaida does so, pouring a glass with the purple liquid that fritzes his sensors with its sweet and static aroma. He brings it over to the Quintesson and then takes his respectful distance. Salaxorius nips deftly from the glass, gaze becoming thoughtful as he recalls the history of the Cybertronian products. When he begins to speak, his voice is again clear and concise. He is an inquisitor and his livelihood is lecturing, conversing, and observing. Recalling lore and narrating it is no trouble.
"Our revered ancestors were already very wise. Geniuses of their age. It is already billions of years ago, but their technological ingenuity was unchallenged. In their infinite knowledge and entrepreneurial prowess, they created products that were in high demand with innumerable species. Already then, we held top positions in market industries. Then, one day, the Quintessons of old created two lines of robotic products." Salaxorius taps a key on his desk and the screen behind him lights up with two images of ancient Cybertronians, pre-transformation age. One looks docile and is holding a tray with assorted glasses and bottles. Its face is sculpted. The other robot is adorned with spikes and is carrying a range of different weapons. It lacks sculpted facial features. It stands in a military pose, one hand raised to the side of its head in a salute. “These are each one of the two lines. The first one is a consumer product: meant to serve in various functions such as caretaking, hospitality, logistics, teaching and the like. The second one is a warrior type; meant for combat and war. They functioned perfectly for a while. They functioned so well that they were in high demand and that the ancestors dedicated an entire planet to the construction of these products. We call this planet ‘Cybertron’.” Salaxorius taps another key, and the image is switched to a photograph of a large metallic planet crowded with facilities and plants. The photograph was taken from outer space and the numerous lights spread across the world’s surface are a mesmerizing sight. Hextaida responds with a slight gasp of awe. “That planet is a /foundry/, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir?” “It is, unit, Cybertron’s purpose was that of a factory. Now, do not interrupt me again while I am lecturing it.” Salaxorius switches the screen to the image of one single mech colored in purple, white and magenta. “The products functioned perfectly, until the consumer mechs became flawed, led astray by one of their own who could not function properly. His designation was A-3. He led a guerilla war against our ancestors, a heinous crime. Blasphemy. Betrayal to the population. Attempts were made to stop his activities but his influence had already spread far and wide, seeping into the systems of the other consumer goods. Eventually, the Creators had no other option but to abandon the planet and all of the products and project left there.” Salaxorius notices that the prototype seems dejected by that news. The turbines droop and the face looks sad. “Anything to say to that, prototype?” Hextaida hesitates, then whispers, “So… because of what….A-3 did… the Masters were no longer able to work on their projects? They couldn’t create anymore, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir?” Salaxorius nods, “Correct. The defective unit condemned its brethren with its flaws. In fact, it is official knowledge that the military hardware products were not flawed at first, but that they suffered from the lack of guidance that the abandonment of the planet caused. A-3 worked to create what it perceived a ‘society’, believing itself to be similar to sentient beings. The products began calling themselves ‘Cybertronians’, and for a while they co-existed in the same harmony that we had taught them.” Hextaida tilts his head, and can’t help but ask, “What happened to them?” “Mind your protocols, unit. Address me properly lest I decide to punish the unit for lack of respect.” Salaxorius warns. But he answers anyway, “The products that came afterwards forgot about their creators. They are now the lost ones. They have no semblance of heritage and origin. They are undisciplined and unreliable. As such, they have been locked in a few civil wars with one another, wreaking havoc to any place they come across. Their last war is still ongoing and has been enduring for the last billion years. There is a 0.000004 percent chance that they will ever resolve their feud with one another as they are partly trying to follow heritage drives that they cannot recognize anymore and partly trying to believe that they are sentient. This is a combination that cannot resolve itself as it is based on Untruths. They no longer recognize the other line as brethren to one another, and will prefer to fight each other instead of following our initial intention of having them work alongside. They are nothing but a rogue plague, a scourge to the galaxy. The Principles of USVIDA exist primarily because of their unfortunate situation. Tell me, is unit D-HEX-23675 informed of the important principles of USVIDA?” Hextaida’s face brightens, “Affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir! Well, rather… it only knows the second and fifth principle…” Why didn’t he know all the principles if it was so important? Did he forget about it? Hextaida pushes his confusion aside and speaks clearly, because he can show the Master that he knows something! “We must be Strict to be effective. We must show Discipline in form and thought.” He recites passionately.
Salaxorius doesn’t seem very impressed by the little mech’s ability to utterly believe in words that are simply ‘in his system’. In fact, the Quintesson grimaces at the lack of completion in the unit’s database. “It should know all of them; the principles are law, the basics for being able to function properly. Without following the principles, a unit cannot be reliable.” Salaxorius chastises. He switches his faces to let the blue and silver one speak, “We must stand as one and work in Unity. We must be Strict to be effective. Vigilance keeps us safe; be ever watchful for bad behavior. Individuality destroys Integrity. We must show Discipline in form and thought. Adherence to law is the basis of reliability and the first step towards proper functioning. Those are the principles of USVIDA and the first laws that all creations must adhere to. Does the unit understand?” “A-affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir.” “The rogue products evidently failed to function according to the principles, or in a manner similar to it. They do not stand as one and they do not work in Unity. They are not Strict and thus not effective. They favor bad behavior, they see themselves as individuals, they are not disciplined and they have trouble adhering to laws. Unit D-HEX-23675 will come to learn how their failure to exhibit good behavior was their bane, and why it is important for the prototype unit to follow the law closely.” Hextaida nods, “Acknowledged, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir. This one understands, Sir.” “Oh, you do not understand at all, prototype. You are absolutely clueless about these rogue products and what my words mean.” Salaxorius retorts, voice suddenly turning from clear to venomous and his face switches to the red and black one. Cold eyes narrow at the robot standing in the room, which looks back in surprised shock at the sudden turnaround Is… is that malice on the Master’s face? Hextaida stares frozen, not moving at all. The Quintesson holds their stare for a while, before murmuring, “It shows of a lack of respect to stare at a superior, prototype unit. I order you to lower your gaze to the floor.” Hextaida pales, and does as he’s told. Salaxorius nibs from his drink, and thinks. When he speaks again, he sounds thoughtful and there is a dangerous edge to his tone, “The prototype is created after the same blueprints of the products created on Cybertron. Emphisa and Fernicius selected /military hardware/ blueprints for its designs. This means that it should have no flaws like the consumer goods had. But heed my warning, little one: Do not underestimate me. As you will be aware off I have command of inquisition over the actions of your Creators, and I have no illusions about the nature of the Cybertron product lines. It is my sacred responsibility to uncover every /little/ weakness that may exist in our ranks… every /little/ link that does not work, every /little/ sign of dissension, I will cut such flaws out like a festering sore before they can infect the rest of the population. That there is no decisive evidence that it is tainted at the moment does not mean that it isn’t, understood? If I had a say in it then not a drop of steel would’ve been allotted for your creation. The forge would never have made it. However, the Overseer has decreed it be given room to develop and it is his wisdom that we follow in the end. But the prototype does not exist to be coddled, to be adored, to be shown lenience. It exists to function, and to perform. If I perceive so much as a hint of rebellion, I will have you incinerated. Is my point clear?” “A-affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir” Comes the shaky reply of Hextaida, who really isn’t quite sure on what he did wrong just now. Why did he get the impression that this Quintesson wasn’t happy to have him around? Salaxorius sets down his glass and presses a button that had started blinking somewhere during the firm speech. He glares at the little mech in front of him, who still has his gaze averted. “I order D-HEX-23675 to reflect on the principles of USVIDA and remember how adherence to them is essential to its continued existence.” Hextaida nods, “A-Acknowledged, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir.” With a curt nod, Salaxorius picks up a set of files and begins to read through them, ignoring Hextaida altogether.
Silence falls in the room. It stays that way for a good fifteen minutes until the door opens. A pair of footsteps are heard, muffled by the Cybrox wool carpet. They approach and halt behind Hextaida, but despite his curiosity the mech doesn’t dare to move lest he’d break a rule and incur the promised wrath of the five-faced Quintesson. “Macetail, did you collect the resources for the test as I ordered?” Salaxorius suddenly looks up and questions the visitor. Now, Hextaida looks up as well and turns around slightly to watch the Sharkticon who had entered the room. The Sharkticon nods, “Affirmative, Lord Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir.” Hextaida tilts his head, curious about the new unit he’s encountering. Of course he has seen these Sharkticons at a distance, but never saw one of them up close or interacted with any of them. Salaxorius probably read his mind since the Quintesson comments, “Macetail is my pet Sharkticon. He is a very loyal unit, something I am sure I cannot say of you, unit D-HEX-23675. He has collected something special for you though, per my instruction. Show the unit what you brought us, Macetail” There is a hint of glee in the voice now, and faces switch around to white and orange.
Macetail nods and steps aside without any grace. Hextaida pauses as he takes in what was standing behind the Sharkticon. …! His turbines shoot up in surprise and he synthesizes a high-pitched system-whistle in excitement. Standing there, looking back at him with an exact same set of azure-colored optics, is an almost complete copy of of D-HEX-23675!
|/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
[Chapter: Brother]
|/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
Salaxorius silently complimented himself for his brilliance. He left his place behind his desk to hover around the group standing in front of it. Macetail, the sharkticon, was ignored. The first small mech was regarded with curiosity for its reaction towards the situation that had been created here. The second small mech… the Quintesson halted behind it, encircling the shape with its tentacles. Salaxorius didn’t touch the robot; the crude, inferior mechanism that it is. But the Quintesson does stare at Hextaida, the first small mech, in utter delight. “D-HEX-23675, meet…. D-HEX-23674! I have prepared a few exercises for you to do together today, and I am sure you will perform astonishingly.”
The two mechanisms looked at one another. 74 was just a bit cruder and the leg design was different; 75’s legs split into four parts when entering its alternate mode but those of 74 remained in two. This meant that the earlier version had more bulk on its backside to accommodate for more parts and was less streamlined. But their silhouette looked mostly the same. Their heads were absolutely identical; they both had optics of the brightest azure color, the same darker band of mesh material that ran across the upper part of their faces, and their helmets had no differences between one another. Even their coloration was the same. The two were watching each other with curious stares.
Salaxorius continued, “Now, I have been informed that D-HEX-23674 is code-named Hextaida Sunam, so when anyone addresses that unit, it will be either with ’74’, or ‘Sunam.’ Understood?” He looked down at the mech in question as if realizing something, “Oh, what am I saying… I don’t even want you answering me. D-HEX-23675, your codename is Hextaida Mandar, so I expect you to listen to ‘75’ or ‘Mandar’. Acknowledge one another and we will be on our way to the testing tracks of the Anesis compound.” “Affirmative, Master Inquisitor Salaxorius Sir.” Hextaida Mandar answered as he had been taught. “Affirmative, Master” Was the answer Hextaida Sunam gave. Salaxorius looked displeased for just a moment before he dismissed the lack of discipline with a very slight smile. He observed how the two small prototypes finally approached one another. They reached out and pressed their handpalms against each other. In great contrast to the standard situation, they were interacting with a unit of equal size. Hextaida Mandar consulted his database for a moment on how he should speak to this new mech, “This one greets it, Brother D-HEX-23674.” Hextaida Sunam nodded, and answered, “Acknowledged, Brother D-HEX-23675. This one greets it likewise.” “Acknowledged, brother Sunam.” They had never been instructed on how to greet one another. Their databanks didn’t hold records on how to greet a similar unit because it was something Emphisa and Fernicius hadn’t intended to happen. But they knew how Allicons and Sharkticons greeted each other and had aptly translated that to their situation. Their adaption went completely over the head of the Quintesson observing them. Salaxorius gave a sinister smile as the two mechs distanced themselves from each other. “That will do. Order: Follow me.” The group left the office of the Master of Inquisition, on their way to the Anesis compound.
[Location: Khalanxis, Aphos wing, lab G-20.17]
After Macetail left with the prototype, the two remaining Quintesson scientists had continued their work in silence. One of them was too worried to talk. The other was too enraged at the breach of protocol forced by one who outranked him but otherwise had no appreciation for the project. Their frustration was almost perceivable in the atmosphere. Suddenly, Emphisa shoved a piece of metal off the workbench he was working at. It went flying through the room and crashed into one of the tanks holding a component in suspension. The glass was reinforced so it didn’t crack but the component inside convulsed in response. A monitor hooked up to the glass cylinder showed how the electric field of the device quickened in alarm. With a sigh, Emphisa hovered over and traced the point of impact with a tentacle. He focused, forcing himself to calm so his presence could manipulate the field to calm down as well. For years, every fragment of lifeforce that had developed itself in the Aphos wing had been his cultivation. He had searched out the appropriate sources and developed precise methods to split off ethereal elements. He spliced and grafted and fused electro-elemental traces into machines. He of course couldn’t perceive these traces but he had gained the ability to predict how his actions influenced the polarities around him.
With Emphisa’s calming presence, the fragment settled into a satisfied state of rest. “Brother Fernicius.” The Quintesson called out, making a mental note that the symbiotic fluid in the tank was nearly due for replacement. Fernicius looked up from his work at the monitor setup, momentarily detaching his mind from the code control system he was manipulating. Neuro-bridge connections were a boon for productivity: one simply attached their minds to the system and programmed directly. “Yes, Honorable Emphisa?” He had noticed the outburst, but had decided to ignore it. It seemed the wisest thing to do right now considering they were both worried. “How long have we been working on this project?” Emphisa asked him the rhetorical question. “Years, my brother.” Fernicius didn’t need to think long about that. “You called me to your office to discuss an inspiration. I supported your vision. I still do.” He hovered over to the tank as well, “Our first prototypes weren’t even interactive at all since we focused on getting the foundation right.” Emphisa nodded, “Do you think we have succeeded in that?” Fernicius switched his heads, a more speculative face focusing on his boss, “For the progress we have made thus far, I affirm it. It is of course too early to say on whether we have achieved all of our goals. The testing is not complete yet. We… have no decisive evidence.” “That is correct.” Emphisa agreed, seemingly satisfied and put at ease by the answers of his science partner. He looked around the room, the brief hesitations that plagued him disappearing as he reminded himself, “we have employed the tightest of security protocols, and we have always kept the greater good of the Quintesson Empire in mind. It gives me great satisfaction to know that the Aphos department has always pursued science with great discipline.”
Fernicius nodded in agreement, thought for a moment and spoke, "What about Salaxorius’s order, Sir? And the Master Inquisitor’s freedom to observe this project? We have worked to construct a solid foundation for the prototypes, but I worry that the Inquisitor might find some aspects objectionable." Now he was treading thin ice, his own worries bubbling under the surface to remind him of their situation. But they had to discuss this. Emphisa let out a displeased hiss. He, too, was worried. It wasn’t just the fact that the Overseer had given Salaxorius so much power over the project, but it was the tentative string of politics and the intricate web of diplomatic interactions that came with it. Salaxorius /hated/ Cybertronians. His fury for their existence was intense, and while some would be consumed by such hate the Master of Inquisition had taken command over it and used it to become one of Quintessa’s finest inquisitors. His fury made him as sharp and cunning as a Folmoxian blade, and even his brethren feared him. He was a fantastic enforcer of the Empire, but he made certain areas of science difficult. And he made certain topics downright inaccessible.
“The Master of Inquisition may inquire as he pleases. We will accommodate as the Overseer expects us to.” Emphisa answered, “We serve the Empire, Fernicius, you know that. It just so happens that our servitude forces us to work in an area Salaxorius cannot evaluate objectively due to his opinion of the modern-day occupants of Cybertron. Therefore we exercise caution with disclosing information due to their sensitive topics… but we are not breaking any laws; we /have/ used the blueprints of ancient military hardware like we said.” Fernicius chuckled in amusement and gave Emphisa a knowing look. “Your ingenuity is, as always, an inspiration, Brother.” The door to the lab beeped and opened, effectively disrupting their conversation. Emphisa and Fernicius both turned their heads to see who entered the lab. It was Cindermaw. … It was only Cindermaw. “Allicon, I express my hope that you somehow managed to magically lose a prototype on your way back here and that we do not have to retrieve it from the halls of Justice.” Fernicius deadpanned. Emphisa glared.
[Location: Khalanxis, Anesis compound, testing track nr. 4]
The room was relatively large and rectangle shaped. Big, wide panels that appeared relatively soft lined the walls, their chamfered edges separated with bluish light. There was one automatic sliding door in the room, made from reinforced steel and with a small bulletproof window holding frosted glass. It was marked with the text [Anesis - 04], but from the inside the text was read from the backside and was thus mirrored. A small light was set into the wall above the door, but it was not lit. The room was not silent; there was a constant monotone buzz of electric particles that hummed in the air, alternated by the harmonics of underlying systems standing by. The room was pristine, like the rest of Khalanxis. The diffuse light made it look soft and calming.
Suddenly, the normal overhead lights stuttered and faded. The blue light strips intensified, visualizing hexagon patterns. An electrical field washed over the room, changing its appearance and forming a pristine staircase leading up to a door. After the room was done with its visualizations, the light above the entry door came on and the door itself slid open. The prototype unit known as D-HEX-23674, Hextaida Sunam, walked into the room. It was followed by Hextaida Mandar. The two micromaster-sized transformers paused, looking around this new place with curious faces. A screen suddenly visualized in front of them, broadcasting the appearance of Salaxorius. The Quintesson looked at them with expectation. “Welcome, both of you. This is one of the Anesis equipment testing tracks, which we will borrow for a few exercises. This room is a ‘hard light simulation chamber’, meaning that it can simulate geometry and physics of any specification. Everything appearing in the room will be reality, remember that. When entering an exercise, this screen will provide you with your objective. I will not be guiding you; this is something you will do together. I do expect you to manage that much. Now, Sunam, you precede Mandar, so you will be the superior unit and will have command during these exercises. Mandar, you must follow Sunam’s directions. Get to it.” Without awaiting their reply, Salaxorius disappeared and the screen switches to an objective screen. Both mechs inch forward to read what it says. “Reach the door.” Sunam whispers, looking at the stairway filling up the entire room, and the door at the top of it, “Oh, that’s simple!” “Is it?” Mandar tilts its head, also looking at the stairway. It was still interpreting the concept of a room that manags to fabricate tangible structures and natural forces; It seemed quite unfathomable. “Yes, of course it is! This unit has done this before, just follow me!” Sunam ordered, grabbed one of the other mech’s hands and led him back towards the door through which they first entered. He demonstratively placed a hand on the structure and gave the other prototype a bright smile, “See? We reached the door!” “…” D-HEX-23675 tilted his head. Actually… D-HEX-23674’s logic wasn’t wrong: the objective didn’t specify which door they had to reach. “Incorrect!” the voice of Salaxorius suddenly echoed through the room, accompanied by an electric shock going through the door. Since Sunam was touching it and holding Mandar’s hand, the jolt went through the both of them. Both cried out in surprise and pain, letting go of each other and stumbling away from the door. “7-74!” Hextaida Mandar cried out indignantly, glaring at its counterpart while cradling his singed hand. The sensors were numb from the surge that had passed through them. “Eek! My apologies, 75! This one thinks it made a mistake!” D-HEX-23674 rubbed his neck sheepishly and gave Mandar a stupid grin, “The objective probably didn’t mean this door after all…” “…” Mandar frowns, “Didn’t it say it did this before, Brother?” Sunam gave an apologetic shrug before approaching the staircase. Mandar followed, frown deepening.
They made it halfway, finding each step to become higher than the previous one. Eventually, they had to mantle to make it up. Not before long, they were staring up at a wall. The two mechs blinked, scurrying along the step to see if there was a spot that was lower. There was none. After a moment, Sunam growled in annoyance, crossed his arms and gave Mandar an indignant scowling glance. “D-HEX-23675, find a way to go up.” He ordered and nodded towards the wall. Mandar looked back at him, tilting his head, “Why won’t you help me, brother?” He questioned. “Because I’m in charge, that’s why. I’m the superior unit, and I’m telling you to find a way up.” There was a moment of silence as Mandar thought about that, before replying with a hesitating, “Yes Sir.” The more recent prototype scurried along the step a bit more, looking up and down. He passed Sunam a few times, who had resorted to leaning against the wall, arms still crossed. Eventually, Mandar halted in front of Sunam, face not betraying what he thought. “Brother D-HEX-23674, this one believes to have found an appropriate solution to our problem.” “Took you long enough, Brother D-HEX-23675. What is the solution?” Sunam uncrossed his arms. Mandar spread his legs to a solid stance, and cupped his hands in front of him, interlocking his fingers and having the palms face upwards, “It is this, Brother D-HEX-23674.” Sunam frowned, “It is- that makes no sense! What does /this/ have to do with getting up to the next step?” He mimics the stance, frowning in dismay. Mandar quickly leapt towards Sunam. He landed one foot in the other mech’s open hands, exerting enough force to launch himself upwards. Within moments, he was standing on the next step, looking down upon a baffled D-HEX-23674, “Didn’t you say you did this exercise before?” “What- Hey!” Hextaida Sunam stared, mouth agape. Hextaida Mandar reached down with a hand, waving it around to indicate that the other mech should grab it so he could be pulled up. Once also on the next ledge, Mandar was given a sullen look, “You should’ve warned me, Brother D-HEX-23675…” “…” D-HEX-23675 shrugged, “You told me you did this exercise before, Brother D-HEX-23674.”
Using the technique and improving it to give better boosts to one another, the two made it all the way to the top of the staircase. When they reached the door a speaker crackled to live and Salaxorius commented, “Well enough. Keep in mind that I do not appreciate any more trickery like before. Do not reinterpret the goals of an exercise without my permission. Failure to comply will be seen as defiance and will result in your termination.” The door swung open, and the two mechs stepped into the next room.
[Continued in part II]