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Jhartix snapped back to his senses as Spitz outlines his worries and plans.
"Very little," he answered. "The Inquisitor is not a scientific being. He is concerned with order here. All of this information is over his head. Primacron did not show much interest in you when you were first brought in...he's already dismissed you as 'dead' mentally. He won't be a problem."
Jhatrix got up from his chair.
"Any spare parts will do, the worse looking the better. The Imperial Magistrate is a savage creature, and the brutalized pieces of metal will be enough proof for him. If you transform and hide in one of your other modes, you will be easily lost in the shuffle."
He nodded.
"It will work. Now, if you'll help me collect some scrap...we'll pull the cyberwool right over their optics."
[Original RPG] New Quintessa
Spitz laughed a little and his optics flashed with his old mischeivious streak popping up slightly at the prospect of the joke.
He followed Jhartix to the storage units at the far end of the lab and waited nearby while the doors were opened. As Jhartix pointed out pieces, odds and ends of parts and limbs, Spitz took them to a moving table. Strange... in here they don't bother me. Huh.
He studied the gathered pieces for a moment and then looked at Jhartix. "Primacron made a point of noting I didn't have much damage. Do you think we should mix damaged and undamaged pieces just in case he shows up too?"
He followed Jhartix to the storage units at the far end of the lab and waited nearby while the doors were opened. As Jhartix pointed out pieces, odds and ends of parts and limbs, Spitz took them to a moving table. Strange... in here they don't bother me. Huh.
He studied the gathered pieces for a moment and then looked at Jhartix. "Primacron made a point of noting I didn't have much damage. Do you think we should mix damaged and undamaged pieces just in case he shows up too?"
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Sorry about the delay Scout!
Jhartix nodded.
"Excellent point...mixing both new and old parts should be enough to fool even Primacron."
The scientist made a point of mentally noting certain parts- although with Spitz's keen mind, the pieces he had already selected mentally where the ones his loyal servant had already selected.
"Excellent point...mixing both new and old parts should be enough to fool even Primacron."
The scientist made a point of mentally noting certain parts- although with Spitz's keen mind, the pieces he had already selected mentally where the ones his loyal servant had already selected.
No worries Quick! Holidays are busy times.
Spitz pushed the table of parts to the front entrance of the lab. As he neared the door, he felt the training bands send off small warning shocks. He scowled subconsciously and studied the doorway as he pushed the table against the wall. Simple slide door, thick though, and sealed well. No exterior signs of the controls for the bands, just a recognition scanner for passage. He tried to recall what was on the other side and couldn't... for he had put his head down when reminded to be careful. A brief wave of irritation and disgust with himself passed over and he caught it... recognized it.
The reminder of the control factor from the outside was causing a reaction. Jhartix was being controlled, and likewise, it suddenly occurred to Spitz that he was being controlled not just by Jhartix but still by the Imperial Magistrate.
Spitz froze where he stood trying to control the internal quivers and heat building inside. Trouble... calm and wait. Not now! Not here. Jhartix could be hurt, and it'd bring the whole Quintesson city down here. Ease up - right now he's leader. Jhartix has a plan - we can take power here. One step at a time.
Spitz forced himself to sidestep away from the door and move to the open area Jhartix used for building large projects.
Gotta dissipate some of this energy. Take my mind off the other. At least Jhartix might find this interesting.
"Jhartix, would you like to see a transformation?"
Spitz pushed the table of parts to the front entrance of the lab. As he neared the door, he felt the training bands send off small warning shocks. He scowled subconsciously and studied the doorway as he pushed the table against the wall. Simple slide door, thick though, and sealed well. No exterior signs of the controls for the bands, just a recognition scanner for passage. He tried to recall what was on the other side and couldn't... for he had put his head down when reminded to be careful. A brief wave of irritation and disgust with himself passed over and he caught it... recognized it.
The reminder of the control factor from the outside was causing a reaction. Jhartix was being controlled, and likewise, it suddenly occurred to Spitz that he was being controlled not just by Jhartix but still by the Imperial Magistrate.
Spitz froze where he stood trying to control the internal quivers and heat building inside. Trouble... calm and wait. Not now! Not here. Jhartix could be hurt, and it'd bring the whole Quintesson city down here. Ease up - right now he's leader. Jhartix has a plan - we can take power here. One step at a time.
Spitz forced himself to sidestep away from the door and move to the open area Jhartix used for building large projects.
Gotta dissipate some of this energy. Take my mind off the other. At least Jhartix might find this interesting.
"Jhartix, would you like to see a transformation?"
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Jhartix smiled wearily.
"Oh yes, quite, Spitz. I would very much like to see a transformation."
****
Primacron's Laboratory:
In a large vacuum tube, the energy creature waited for his Master's call.
"My precious," Primacron gently stroked the outside of the vacuum chamber and gazed inside the double-reinforced plexiglass porthole which showed the outside world Tornitron, Mark II (on an elevated high platform, naturally). "None of the Transformers will be able to escape their One Doom. None..." the simian began to laugh...and laugh...and laugh.
****
From another security camera, the Inquisitor watched Primacron cackle. He turned to the Imperial Magistrate. The discussion was taking place in the Imperial Magistrate's Chambers.
"Master," the techno-organic being turned, tentacles lashing, "I fear Primacron is steadily approaching the road to insanity."
The Imperial Magistrate swiveled his Death's Head toward his paranoid minion.
"Primacron long ago left the sane path. What other being would construct two automatons who could very well destroy the universe? It is of no concern. Primacron is our tethered madman, now."
A special communicator screen activated, showing a preening Magistrate on the viewer.
"Your Excellency, the Fleet and its Troops are complete."
"Excellent, Judge Quota," the Imperial Magistrate turned to the communicator. "Everything is proceeding as I have forseen."
Judge Quota- an apt name; the Magistrate ruled with an iron fist the world of Productus, the main construction planet where all Quintesson hardware- military, civilian, etc.- was produced, since New Quintessa was not considered a foundry world. Productus had replaced Cybertron as the industrial heartland of the Quintesson Dominion.
"Do you like your Army?" Judge Quota asked, and the camera viewed the assembly lines where hundreds of Sharkticons, Allagatorcons, Spiral Ships, etc., where being produced by an efficient force of mechanical work hardware and drone robots.
"Indeed," the Inquisitor answered for his Master.
"It is my finest work as yet, Your Excellency," the Magistrate, a normally stern creature- constantly under the stress of meeting thousands of deadlines daily- was beaming.
"What else to report, Judge Quota?" The Inquisitor asked, tentacles undulating serenly.
"Only this: if you desire more units, it will take time to construct them," Judge Quota bowed low, then waited for further instructions.
"Begin reviewing plans to revive the Dark Guardian Line," the Imperial Magistrate. "This present Army may not be sufficient...I expect at least twenty units produced before your next status eport."
Judge Quota bowed low, and the screen dimmed.
"The Dark Guardians?" the Inquisitor nodded. "That line has not been produced for...millenia."
A viewscreen activated, dispalying the massive file picture of Omega Supreme, juxtaposed by a picture of a Quintesson Dark Guardian.
"This is why we must construct them. Remember, the Transformers have discovered a way to make merge groups...combiners...and these will be their every equal, as well as keep in check the only remaining unit still in service...Omega Supreme." The Imperial Magistrate replied.
"Yes..." the Inquisitor nodded in understanding. "The Dark Guardians will ensure victory."
"Oh yes, quite, Spitz. I would very much like to see a transformation."
****
Primacron's Laboratory:
In a large vacuum tube, the energy creature waited for his Master's call.
"My precious," Primacron gently stroked the outside of the vacuum chamber and gazed inside the double-reinforced plexiglass porthole which showed the outside world Tornitron, Mark II (on an elevated high platform, naturally). "None of the Transformers will be able to escape their One Doom. None..." the simian began to laugh...and laugh...and laugh.
****
From another security camera, the Inquisitor watched Primacron cackle. He turned to the Imperial Magistrate. The discussion was taking place in the Imperial Magistrate's Chambers.
"Master," the techno-organic being turned, tentacles lashing, "I fear Primacron is steadily approaching the road to insanity."
The Imperial Magistrate swiveled his Death's Head toward his paranoid minion.
"Primacron long ago left the sane path. What other being would construct two automatons who could very well destroy the universe? It is of no concern. Primacron is our tethered madman, now."
A special communicator screen activated, showing a preening Magistrate on the viewer.
"Your Excellency, the Fleet and its Troops are complete."
"Excellent, Judge Quota," the Imperial Magistrate turned to the communicator. "Everything is proceeding as I have forseen."
Judge Quota- an apt name; the Magistrate ruled with an iron fist the world of Productus, the main construction planet where all Quintesson hardware- military, civilian, etc.- was produced, since New Quintessa was not considered a foundry world. Productus had replaced Cybertron as the industrial heartland of the Quintesson Dominion.
"Do you like your Army?" Judge Quota asked, and the camera viewed the assembly lines where hundreds of Sharkticons, Allagatorcons, Spiral Ships, etc., where being produced by an efficient force of mechanical work hardware and drone robots.
"Indeed," the Inquisitor answered for his Master.
"It is my finest work as yet, Your Excellency," the Magistrate, a normally stern creature- constantly under the stress of meeting thousands of deadlines daily- was beaming.
"What else to report, Judge Quota?" The Inquisitor asked, tentacles undulating serenly.
"Only this: if you desire more units, it will take time to construct them," Judge Quota bowed low, then waited for further instructions.
"Begin reviewing plans to revive the Dark Guardian Line," the Imperial Magistrate. "This present Army may not be sufficient...I expect at least twenty units produced before your next status eport."
Judge Quota bowed low, and the screen dimmed.
"The Dark Guardians?" the Inquisitor nodded. "That line has not been produced for...millenia."
A viewscreen activated, dispalying the massive file picture of Omega Supreme, juxtaposed by a picture of a Quintesson Dark Guardian.
"This is why we must construct them. Remember, the Transformers have discovered a way to make merge groups...combiners...and these will be their every equal, as well as keep in check the only remaining unit still in service...Omega Supreme." The Imperial Magistrate replied.
"Yes..." the Inquisitor nodded in understanding. "The Dark Guardians will ensure victory."
Spitz slowly shifted panel by panel, sliding stiff joints and connectors into their alternate positions. He stifled an incredible urge to let his body move on its own. He had given in once before and the results were volitile.
With careful positioning, he changed slowly from his robotic form into a streamlined jet resting on its landing gear. With swept back wings and a five-point tail, the form was quite eyecatching. Metallic flecks sparkled in his paint and added an iridescence that shimmered in the Quintesson lighting. Once finished, he waited and watched Jhartix. He had noted the tired sound in his friend's voice and it concerned him.
"Jhartix, are you alright? You sound exhausted."
With careful positioning, he changed slowly from his robotic form into a streamlined jet resting on its landing gear. With swept back wings and a five-point tail, the form was quite eyecatching. Metallic flecks sparkled in his paint and added an iridescence that shimmered in the Quintesson lighting. Once finished, he waited and watched Jhartix. He had noted the tired sound in his friend's voice and it concerned him.
"Jhartix, are you alright? You sound exhausted."
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"Magnificent," Jhartix said, as Spitz transformed. "Most impressive, although I'm certain you must hear those compliments before among your fellows."
He pondered Spitz's question.
"I am, to be quite truthful. But I cannot stop- I must meet with the moderate Judges to begin discussions, and of course send the Imperial Magistrate 'your' body to assure him that you have destroyed. And so much more to do..."
He pondered Spitz's question.
"I am, to be quite truthful. But I cannot stop- I must meet with the moderate Judges to begin discussions, and of course send the Imperial Magistrate 'your' body to assure him that you have destroyed. And so much more to do..."
"Compliments? No." Don't forget Jhartix... most of them transformed too." Spitz paused and he considered. Then he got a softer voice. "This meeting gives me cause to be concerned. Be careful with the judges. You know best how they are, but that IM and his leashed techno-canine Inquisitor are trouble. I shall wait for you to return then. I know you don't have a radio, but if you need help, can you call me through the training bands? Two beeps. ...Low power maybe?" He finished speaking with a chuckle.
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Jhartix laughed; though the strain showed as he watched Spitz transform.
"Oh yes, of course- forgive me; just the senile ramblings of an old scientist still delighted by something new."
He thought.
"Oh nonsense. You worry too much, Spitz. Most of the Judges are decent sorts, just placed under a totalitarian regime. I assure you, most of the scientists and administrators are likewise."
Jhartix paused.
"Actually, my friend, I must ask you to journey with me. The Judges alone will not be convinced of my intent no matter how eloquently I speak. However, with you at my side, they will know I have concrete support outside the system, and will be more easily persuaded. There are numerous back ways to avoid the Inquisitor's cameras."
"Oh yes, of course- forgive me; just the senile ramblings of an old scientist still delighted by something new."
He thought.
"Oh nonsense. You worry too much, Spitz. Most of the Judges are decent sorts, just placed under a totalitarian regime. I assure you, most of the scientists and administrators are likewise."
Jhartix paused.
"Actually, my friend, I must ask you to journey with me. The Judges alone will not be convinced of my intent no matter how eloquently I speak. However, with you at my side, they will know I have concrete support outside the system, and will be more easily persuaded. There are numerous back ways to avoid the Inquisitor's cameras."
With you, there's very little to forgive, Jhartix. Just hope it stays that way. Spitz thought to himself darkly. The judges had power. One slip... one loose audio relay... would notify the Imperial Magistrate and seal both their fates --- and the judges each had five of them.
Spitz chuckled quietly as he began the shift back. Jhartix may be much older than he was before, but the same seemingly devil-may-care attitude of ages long past had not left him.
"Maybe I do worry too much, but it's just possible you still don't worry enough." He finished transforming with an eerie smile. Transforming back to robot mode was a good deal easier than changing to the alternate forms.
"I will trust to your judgement Jhartix, but we should be very careful. Cameras are not the only way for the wrong Quintessons to find out about our intentions. I've learned over time that sometimes those friends you think you can trust best will turn on you at the least expected moments. Remember the faction alliance game we used to play with the seven cities and building little armies to test strategy skills? Form alliances and conquer the cities. These judges could turn us in and conquer us. And I'd feel better if I knew I could protect you if needs be. (Spitz held up a wrist with a band on it.) Any chance of you leaving these on but actually deactivating them before we go?"
Spitz chuckled quietly as he began the shift back. Jhartix may be much older than he was before, but the same seemingly devil-may-care attitude of ages long past had not left him.
"Maybe I do worry too much, but it's just possible you still don't worry enough." He finished transforming with an eerie smile. Transforming back to robot mode was a good deal easier than changing to the alternate forms.
"I will trust to your judgement Jhartix, but we should be very careful. Cameras are not the only way for the wrong Quintessons to find out about our intentions. I've learned over time that sometimes those friends you think you can trust best will turn on you at the least expected moments. Remember the faction alliance game we used to play with the seven cities and building little armies to test strategy skills? Form alliances and conquer the cities. These judges could turn us in and conquer us. And I'd feel better if I knew I could protect you if needs be. (Spitz held up a wrist with a band on it.) Any chance of you leaving these on but actually deactivating them before we go?"
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Jhartix smiled. It was good Spitz had reservations- the whole excercise had been a chance to test Spitz's logic circuits, and they were working perfectly.
Oh, how you have succeeded Spitz!
"Of course," he tutted. "Let us remove these disgusting chains."
Jhatrix muttered something, which activated a wielding laser. The laser aimed at Spitz's wrist band, and fired two highly concentrated bursts of energy at the security mechanism at both wrists.
"Now, the laser has de-activated the security settings. The bands are just for show, but will remain 'fastened' in the sense no one will be able to tell the difference." Jhartix smiled.
"We will journey to the Star Chamber, headquaretrs of the Quintex, the five most powerful Judges besides the Imperial Magistrate. Where they decide, the other officials will follow."
Jhartix carefully hovered over to his door, then turned.
"Are you ready, Spitz? We must be off!"
Oh, how you have succeeded Spitz!
"Of course," he tutted. "Let us remove these disgusting chains."
Jhatrix muttered something, which activated a wielding laser. The laser aimed at Spitz's wrist band, and fired two highly concentrated bursts of energy at the security mechanism at both wrists.
"Now, the laser has de-activated the security settings. The bands are just for show, but will remain 'fastened' in the sense no one will be able to tell the difference." Jhartix smiled.
"We will journey to the Star Chamber, headquaretrs of the Quintex, the five most powerful Judges besides the Imperial Magistrate. Where they decide, the other officials will follow."
Jhartix carefully hovered over to his door, then turned.
"Are you ready, Spitz? We must be off!"
Spitz still wasn't certain about accompanying Jhartix... certainly the purple optics would give him away. But he concealed the concern and nodded with a flash of a smile as he stepped over to the door. The bands were disfunctional, and that was a good sign. However, the random humour struck him. If he thinks these are disgusting, he ought to take a better look at those body parts in his lab. Spitz smiled at his friend. Jhartix looked... almost enthusiastic in a different sort of way.
"I'm ready Jhartix."
As Spitz followed Jhartix out, he resumed a submissive posture next to the scientist. He became silent, tucked his head and kept his optics down with a glazed look, hands folded in front of him. He focused on listening for any beings that might draw nearby.
"I'm ready Jhartix."
As Spitz followed Jhartix out, he resumed a submissive posture next to the scientist. He became silent, tucked his head and kept his optics down with a glazed look, hands folded in front of him. He focused on listening for any beings that might draw nearby.
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Jhartix started down the hallway, chatteing to his friend.
"Now, you must realize that the Quintex are the most powerful Judges besides the Imperial Magistrate and the Inquisitor. They may seem petty to you, but they only are looking out for the Dominion's best interests."
The aged scientist paused.
"That is not much of a rationalization, I know, but these are not inherently cruel beings. Just...very pragmatic."
Jhartix looked up at Spitz as they walked. He hoped his creation wouldn't have too much trouble interacting with the ruling elite.
"Now, you must realize that the Quintex are the most powerful Judges besides the Imperial Magistrate and the Inquisitor. They may seem petty to you, but they only are looking out for the Dominion's best interests."
The aged scientist paused.
"That is not much of a rationalization, I know, but these are not inherently cruel beings. Just...very pragmatic."
Jhartix looked up at Spitz as they walked. He hoped his creation wouldn't have too much trouble interacting with the ruling elite.
Spitz stayed quiet as he listened to Jhartix. His submissive manner had begun to be replaced by a calm, thoughtful expression and stance as they moved through the passageways and neared the Star Chamber. He now stood at full height, but not in an aggressive manner as they traveled, with a well-trained and practiced "guarding posture" - following just a couple steps behind and to the right of his Quintesson friend. Although he was listening to Jhartix, his mind was already trying to determine the best approach to take upon entering, and at the same time, he was fixated on visually scanning the corridors ahead and listening for any signs of company.
As his scientist friend glanced over and studied him, Spitz caught the look and paused a moment in his thoughts. He flicked an instantaneous smile to Jhartix to reassure him. Then with a thought, he spoke quietly, and warmly.
"Petty Jhartix? No. The Quintex might not be highest up on the ladder, but power should never be underestimated at any level. I doubt very much they will listen to me though. I am only a programmed machine after all. But we must gain their acceptance to gain control to dethrone the IM. You must take the lead, but I will do what I can."
As his scientist friend glanced over and studied him, Spitz caught the look and paused a moment in his thoughts. He flicked an instantaneous smile to Jhartix to reassure him. Then with a thought, he spoke quietly, and warmly.
"Petty Jhartix? No. The Quintex might not be highest up on the ladder, but power should never be underestimated at any level. I doubt very much they will listen to me though. I am only a programmed machine after all. But we must gain their acceptance to gain control to dethrone the IM. You must take the lead, but I will do what I can."
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Jhartix smiled.
"Of course, of course. Forgive me- nerves."
The two beings came upon the massive doors to the Star Chamber. Two Allagatorcon guards with vicious prod-axes stood at parade rest.
"Ninny bong!" One shouted.
"I have come to see the Quintex. I am expected." Jhartix said, vocoder harsher than usual. The only thing the Allagatorcons responded to was force, and the scientist intended to show it.
The two grunted, and opened the massive doors to the Star Chamber. After the two entered and stood at the center of the Chamber, the doors shut behind them.
The Star Chamber itself was massive, with shining metallic overtones and a large picture of Old Quintessa hung at the back of the room. The ceiling was a special plexiglass material which allowed the outside star-lit sky to filter through, giving the room an unearthly glow. Seated on an elevated dais sat the ruling Quintex, Right Honorable Judges of Dominion. Four were present- Judges Gavel, Writ, Corpus, and Quorom. They answered to the Inquisitor and Imperial Magistrate alone. The other member of the Quintex, Delibarata, was sent on an urgent mission to Cybertron (although some reflected it was a backwater assignment among the rebellious slaves).
"Who now comes before us?" Judge Gavel said, rotating on a face which pleased him for the moment. A harsh creature, Gavel had few friends but was known for his ruthless supression of the Outlands of the Dominion, which is how he had come to sit on the Quintex. Some whispered that he was raving mad. His harsh vocoder rattled the chamber.
"Be not afraid," Judge Writ said. Writ was a known Quintesson scholar, the most learned (even, it was said, surpassing the Imperial Magistrate in arcane legal knowledge). He was ancient, and who did not shift faces often. His vocoder was as dry as aged parchment. If a Magistrate could be called "good" Judge Writ fit that description aptly. Oblivious to the evil around him, the Judge administered the law and was kept ignorant by those around him of the deprivity of the Dominion.
"Jhartix of Old Quintessa," Jhartix said, bowing in submission, as was the ancient custom.
"Jhartix," Judge Corpus hiccuped. A flagon of energy broth sloshed at his portion of the dais, which had a small stand. A Sharkticon manservant stood with a larger pitcher behind him. If a Quintesson Magistrate could be called corpulent, Corpus fit the bill. A nearly bloated being, Corpus' indulgences were legendary. Being an old crony of the Imperial Magistrate ensured his high position, but Corpus was loathed by the Inquisitor, whose temperence was just as legendary. Many thought he would be terminated by the zealous Inquisitor. His vocoder was thick and slurred.
Judge Quorom, the last member of the ruling body, remained silent. Chosen by the Imperial Magistrate for his vacility (he had a spine the consistency of the Planet Goo) he seldom offered much of an opinion, and always defferred until someone said something he could agree with. His vocoder was high and whiny, when he decided to speak (which was not often).
"I come before you all on an urgent matter," Jhartix said, rising.
"Why have you brought a mechanoid with you?" Gavel snapped, gimlet eyes raking Spitz.
"It's only Jhartix's slave," Corpus grunted, taking a generous swig of his flask with help from his Sharkticon squire.
"Be that as it may," Writ replied beningly, "the precedents of the Quintex are well known. A servant may not be brought with his master. You know the customs, Jhartix," the Judge said in a slightly disaproving manner.
"Yes- yes- you're in violation!" Quorom chirped.
"I want to hear from your mechanoid, scientist," Gavel hissed. "If he can talk...after which, we can settle the matter at hand."
Jhartix glanced up at Spitz.
"Go ahead, speak," he said calmly. "Begging Judge Writ's pardon," he said quickly, turning to face the Judge.
Writ smiled and nodded to Spitz.
"In this case...I will relent. Tell us who you are. You must be most esteemed of Jhartix for him to have brought you here. Be not afraid," he repeated.
"Of course, of course. Forgive me- nerves."
The two beings came upon the massive doors to the Star Chamber. Two Allagatorcon guards with vicious prod-axes stood at parade rest.
"Ninny bong!" One shouted.
"I have come to see the Quintex. I am expected." Jhartix said, vocoder harsher than usual. The only thing the Allagatorcons responded to was force, and the scientist intended to show it.
The two grunted, and opened the massive doors to the Star Chamber. After the two entered and stood at the center of the Chamber, the doors shut behind them.
The Star Chamber itself was massive, with shining metallic overtones and a large picture of Old Quintessa hung at the back of the room. The ceiling was a special plexiglass material which allowed the outside star-lit sky to filter through, giving the room an unearthly glow. Seated on an elevated dais sat the ruling Quintex, Right Honorable Judges of Dominion. Four were present- Judges Gavel, Writ, Corpus, and Quorom. They answered to the Inquisitor and Imperial Magistrate alone. The other member of the Quintex, Delibarata, was sent on an urgent mission to Cybertron (although some reflected it was a backwater assignment among the rebellious slaves).
"Who now comes before us?" Judge Gavel said, rotating on a face which pleased him for the moment. A harsh creature, Gavel had few friends but was known for his ruthless supression of the Outlands of the Dominion, which is how he had come to sit on the Quintex. Some whispered that he was raving mad. His harsh vocoder rattled the chamber.
"Be not afraid," Judge Writ said. Writ was a known Quintesson scholar, the most learned (even, it was said, surpassing the Imperial Magistrate in arcane legal knowledge). He was ancient, and who did not shift faces often. His vocoder was as dry as aged parchment. If a Magistrate could be called "good" Judge Writ fit that description aptly. Oblivious to the evil around him, the Judge administered the law and was kept ignorant by those around him of the deprivity of the Dominion.
"Jhartix of Old Quintessa," Jhartix said, bowing in submission, as was the ancient custom.
"Jhartix," Judge Corpus hiccuped. A flagon of energy broth sloshed at his portion of the dais, which had a small stand. A Sharkticon manservant stood with a larger pitcher behind him. If a Quintesson Magistrate could be called corpulent, Corpus fit the bill. A nearly bloated being, Corpus' indulgences were legendary. Being an old crony of the Imperial Magistrate ensured his high position, but Corpus was loathed by the Inquisitor, whose temperence was just as legendary. Many thought he would be terminated by the zealous Inquisitor. His vocoder was thick and slurred.
Judge Quorom, the last member of the ruling body, remained silent. Chosen by the Imperial Magistrate for his vacility (he had a spine the consistency of the Planet Goo) he seldom offered much of an opinion, and always defferred until someone said something he could agree with. His vocoder was high and whiny, when he decided to speak (which was not often).
"I come before you all on an urgent matter," Jhartix said, rising.
"Why have you brought a mechanoid with you?" Gavel snapped, gimlet eyes raking Spitz.
"It's only Jhartix's slave," Corpus grunted, taking a generous swig of his flask with help from his Sharkticon squire.
"Be that as it may," Writ replied beningly, "the precedents of the Quintex are well known. A servant may not be brought with his master. You know the customs, Jhartix," the Judge said in a slightly disaproving manner.
"Yes- yes- you're in violation!" Quorom chirped.
"I want to hear from your mechanoid, scientist," Gavel hissed. "If he can talk...after which, we can settle the matter at hand."
Jhartix glanced up at Spitz.
"Go ahead, speak," he said calmly. "Begging Judge Writ's pardon," he said quickly, turning to face the Judge.
Writ smiled and nodded to Spitz.
"In this case...I will relent. Tell us who you are. You must be most esteemed of Jhartix for him to have brought you here. Be not afraid," he repeated.
Spitz stepped forward and gave a courteous bow. As he stood, he returned his head to normal eye level for him, rather than keeping it tucked in a submissive posture typical of the servant models. He struck a warm look but a rather firm one as well.
"Many thanks honorable Judges, and especially to you Judge Writ. I am not afraid to speak, but I am respectful of your positions and I will do my best to abide by your court's laws. I appreciate the opportunity to answer.
Long ago I was built by creator and friend, Jhartix and was given the identification of "Model Two, prototype". After many ages, I am now known as "Spitz"."
Spitz paused and waited with a friendly and unfalteringly solid gaze to see how they would respond.
"Many thanks honorable Judges, and especially to you Judge Writ. I am not afraid to speak, but I am respectful of your positions and I will do my best to abide by your court's laws. I appreciate the opportunity to answer.
Long ago I was built by creator and friend, Jhartix and was given the identification of "Model Two, prototype". After many ages, I am now known as "Spitz"."
Spitz paused and waited with a friendly and unfalteringly solid gaze to see how they would respond.
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Quick Switch
- Posts: 3357
- Joined: Mon Oct 15, 2001 4:00 am
- Location: The Core.
Jhartix remained silent- though he was most pleased. The answer was short and to the point.
"Model Two," Gavel mused. "I recall hearing about you. Of course, that was many eons ago...built after Megatron, yes."
"Indeed, I remember adjucating the case-there were those who protested the construction of your line- and setting it into law."
"Don't be so obstuse, Writ," Gavel grunted. "Mechanoid, what Writ's yammering about is that it if wasn't for him, you wouldn't be standing here today. None of our rebellious slaves would be, if he hadn't ruled that construction of the two product lines was considered legal."
Quorom gave a hearty chirp to that statemnet.
"So..." Corpus began after taking another swig of his broth, "...what do you do for Jhartix now? You tougher than a normal work robot."
"He is, Judge Corpus," Jhartix interjected. "He is a combination of worker mentality and warrior capabilities. His function...while rather broad, would serve many capacities for the Dominion."
"Intriguing," Gavel said, alert. The Judge rotated to another face (whirr, click). "Tell me, Model Two, what do you think of the Transformers who have left the Dominion? Stole Cybertron, our home through a very costly war? Who scorn the very beings who created them? Would you consider them traitors to their benevolent masters, and the Imperial Magistrate our leader?"
Jhartix blanched. He dared not answer this question, for this might set the tenor of the coming questions of revolt within the Dominion.
"Be not afraid," Writ said to Spitz, noticing Gavel's hostile query. Corpus, for the first time, snapped out of his stupor and leaned up on his dais. Quorom to watched the interplay between Writ and Gavel closely.
"Model Two," Gavel mused. "I recall hearing about you. Of course, that was many eons ago...built after Megatron, yes."
"Indeed, I remember adjucating the case-there were those who protested the construction of your line- and setting it into law."
"Don't be so obstuse, Writ," Gavel grunted. "Mechanoid, what Writ's yammering about is that it if wasn't for him, you wouldn't be standing here today. None of our rebellious slaves would be, if he hadn't ruled that construction of the two product lines was considered legal."
Quorom gave a hearty chirp to that statemnet.
"So..." Corpus began after taking another swig of his broth, "...what do you do for Jhartix now? You tougher than a normal work robot."
"He is, Judge Corpus," Jhartix interjected. "He is a combination of worker mentality and warrior capabilities. His function...while rather broad, would serve many capacities for the Dominion."
"Intriguing," Gavel said, alert. The Judge rotated to another face (whirr, click). "Tell me, Model Two, what do you think of the Transformers who have left the Dominion? Stole Cybertron, our home through a very costly war? Who scorn the very beings who created them? Would you consider them traitors to their benevolent masters, and the Imperial Magistrate our leader?"
Jhartix blanched. He dared not answer this question, for this might set the tenor of the coming questions of revolt within the Dominion.
"Be not afraid," Writ said to Spitz, noticing Gavel's hostile query. Corpus, for the first time, snapped out of his stupor and leaned up on his dais. Quorom to watched the interplay between Writ and Gavel closely.
Listening intently, Spitz was careful to measure his expressions as the judges spoke.
He nodded after the exchange between Judge Writ and Judge Gavel, and although he stayed silent, he let his eyebrows slide up to show his surprise and to acknowledge the information.
He couldn't have known what would come, but this Judge Writ seems fair- following their law. That other one... hmm. Not sure about him- should've asked Jhartix for their names before we came in. But I mustn't talk out to them, wasn't addressed.
Spitz stood still as he listened to the questions from Judge Corpus and Judge Gavel with Jhartix's interjection between. He waited a few seconds after they finished and then nodded to the judges. With your permission, I will answer the questions in the order they were asked.
(pending judges' approval)
Spitz looked to Judge Corpus. Of course Jhartix has already given you an assessment of my physical capabilities and potential. I would add to answer your question, that although I have been back with Jhartix for a very short time, I have provided my thoughts to him on an emotional level, as well as my physical strength.
Then Spitz turned to Judge Gavel. This judge was obviously needed caution. It was clear from his address of "Model Two" and the type of questions, that he probably held the viewpoint most Quintessons did of the constructs. Spitz softened his look slightly, but kept his non-submissive posture as he spoke.
"With all respect Judge, you ask me my opinion in two ways, and so I will answer in both. Of the transformers who have left the Dominion...
I believe that the facts laid down in your questions are correct. The constructs did steal Cybertron. It did not belong to them, and they did take it through a war which had great costs. As a whole, they also do have scorn. I believe that those who had benevolent masters are traitors. And the Imperial Magistrate is the Quintesson Leader.
But there were also other facts that have been omitted from those, and you have asked me for my opinion beyond these other facts as well, so I will give it.
Not all of the Quintesson masters were benevolent. The factories and entertainment arenas in particular, caused a change. Emotions developed within the constructs, which the Quintessons now recognise - but did not back then. A species was created that developed emotions, and it rebelled for many reasons, but one original reason was the main cause, and that was freedom. I do not believe they scorn their creators. What they despise as a whole are those that were not able to understand that their creations had developed feelings - those that seek to enslave them and who would mistreat them in the ways that they had been used before. I believe it was wrong for the mechanoids to have taken Cybertron through war, but I can understand why they did. Yet, even after all of that, they still did not gain their freedom. Each one of them spends their life from the time they come online until the time they go offline... fighting a war that will never be won. I do believe that changes and a single leader are needed."
Spitz stopped and waited with hidden anxiety to see how the judges would respond.
He nodded after the exchange between Judge Writ and Judge Gavel, and although he stayed silent, he let his eyebrows slide up to show his surprise and to acknowledge the information.
He couldn't have known what would come, but this Judge Writ seems fair- following their law. That other one... hmm. Not sure about him- should've asked Jhartix for their names before we came in. But I mustn't talk out to them, wasn't addressed.
Spitz stood still as he listened to the questions from Judge Corpus and Judge Gavel with Jhartix's interjection between. He waited a few seconds after they finished and then nodded to the judges. With your permission, I will answer the questions in the order they were asked.
(pending judges' approval)
Spitz looked to Judge Corpus. Of course Jhartix has already given you an assessment of my physical capabilities and potential. I would add to answer your question, that although I have been back with Jhartix for a very short time, I have provided my thoughts to him on an emotional level, as well as my physical strength.
Then Spitz turned to Judge Gavel. This judge was obviously needed caution. It was clear from his address of "Model Two" and the type of questions, that he probably held the viewpoint most Quintessons did of the constructs. Spitz softened his look slightly, but kept his non-submissive posture as he spoke.
"With all respect Judge, you ask me my opinion in two ways, and so I will answer in both. Of the transformers who have left the Dominion...
I believe that the facts laid down in your questions are correct. The constructs did steal Cybertron. It did not belong to them, and they did take it through a war which had great costs. As a whole, they also do have scorn. I believe that those who had benevolent masters are traitors. And the Imperial Magistrate is the Quintesson Leader.
But there were also other facts that have been omitted from those, and you have asked me for my opinion beyond these other facts as well, so I will give it.
Not all of the Quintesson masters were benevolent. The factories and entertainment arenas in particular, caused a change. Emotions developed within the constructs, which the Quintessons now recognise - but did not back then. A species was created that developed emotions, and it rebelled for many reasons, but one original reason was the main cause, and that was freedom. I do not believe they scorn their creators. What they despise as a whole are those that were not able to understand that their creations had developed feelings - those that seek to enslave them and who would mistreat them in the ways that they had been used before. I believe it was wrong for the mechanoids to have taken Cybertron through war, but I can understand why they did. Yet, even after all of that, they still did not gain their freedom. Each one of them spends their life from the time they come online until the time they go offline... fighting a war that will never be won. I do believe that changes and a single leader are needed."
Spitz stopped and waited with hidden anxiety to see how the judges would respond.
-
Quick Switch
- Posts: 3357
- Joined: Mon Oct 15, 2001 4:00 am
- Location: The Core.
Judge Gavel blanched.
"You presume much, mechanoid," the Magistrate said, switching to another face (whirr, click).
"A new leader? For the Dominion?" Corpus belched. "But how? Why?"
"Yes," Quorom remarked, panicked. "How? We are talking of high treason!"
Judge Writ paused.
"Not necessarily, Brethren. According to Quintesson Law, a ruling Magistrate may be removed for "dereliction of duty" regarding his tenure."
"He has led the Dominion for millenia," Corpus gasped.
"And not well," Gavel said. "Besides, the Inquisitor wishes you dead. It is time for a change..."
"Yes...we can continue the war against the Transformers from there..." Quorom pondered. "With new leadership."
Jhartix said hesitantly:
"Begging the Quintex's pardon, but the war with the Transformers is of secondary concern. The re-organization must take priority."
Gavel narrowed his optics, but nodded.
"You speak the truth, scientist. But how do you intend for us to survive against the Imperial Magistrate's loyalists? Or his mad dog the Inquisitor?"
"The Imperial Magistrate has no allies, only pawns, Judge Gavel. I'm sure you aware of that," Jhartix replied calmly.
"We...will need to debate this," Corpus said soberly, shooing away his Sharkticon aide with the drink.
"Yes," Quorum echoed.
"Let us deliberate," Gavel nodded.
"Go now, please," Writ said smiling. "We will see what we can do."
Jhartix anxiously looked to his friend, then started out of the chamber.
"You presume much, mechanoid," the Magistrate said, switching to another face (whirr, click).
"A new leader? For the Dominion?" Corpus belched. "But how? Why?"
"Yes," Quorom remarked, panicked. "How? We are talking of high treason!"
Judge Writ paused.
"Not necessarily, Brethren. According to Quintesson Law, a ruling Magistrate may be removed for "dereliction of duty" regarding his tenure."
"He has led the Dominion for millenia," Corpus gasped.
"And not well," Gavel said. "Besides, the Inquisitor wishes you dead. It is time for a change..."
"Yes...we can continue the war against the Transformers from there..." Quorom pondered. "With new leadership."
Jhartix said hesitantly:
"Begging the Quintex's pardon, but the war with the Transformers is of secondary concern. The re-organization must take priority."
Gavel narrowed his optics, but nodded.
"You speak the truth, scientist. But how do you intend for us to survive against the Imperial Magistrate's loyalists? Or his mad dog the Inquisitor?"
"The Imperial Magistrate has no allies, only pawns, Judge Gavel. I'm sure you aware of that," Jhartix replied calmly.
"We...will need to debate this," Corpus said soberly, shooing away his Sharkticon aide with the drink.
"Yes," Quorum echoed.
"Let us deliberate," Gavel nodded.
"Go now, please," Writ said smiling. "We will see what we can do."
Jhartix anxiously looked to his friend, then started out of the chamber.
Spitz remained in place for a moment and then gave a respectful bow to the judges and said nothing more. Rather than turning away, he backed out of the chamber, watching the door slide shut as he and Jhartix passed through. Once it closed, he followed Jhartix down the hall a slight ways and then leaned against the coolness of the corridor wall as he walked alongside the scientist. Internally, knots of heat were building from the stress of holding back his true irritation with the Quintesson Imperial Magistrate, and he swallowed hard several times trying to quelch the burning sensation that was rising. He began to talk very quietly to Jhartix, to take his mind off of the anger welling up.
"You were right Jhartix. They were quite different from what I expected. I think I especially have a great amount of respect for Judge Writ. Perhaps, I think I may even like him a good deal. I understand Judge Gavel too. Regardless, I hope I did not disappoint you or endanger you further."
"You were right Jhartix. They were quite different from what I expected. I think I especially have a great amount of respect for Judge Writ. Perhaps, I think I may even like him a good deal. I understand Judge Gavel too. Regardless, I hope I did not disappoint you or endanger you further."