Aftermath - Chapter 3: Trypticon

[silberstreif]

Universe: Till all are one
Beta: Starfire 201
Continuation: AU, G1
Genre: Adventure, drama
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide, Sunflare and several others

Summary: The Great War is only a memory now, yet far from being forgotten. Instead of enjoying the new peace, Prowl and Jazz are accused of the worst war crimes and have to fight in a trial for spark and honour, while behind the scene a master plan is entering its last stages.

"The guards of the special unit followed her and then Maximus was alone. With a sigh, he walked back to the tower in the middle of Trypticon that held his office and quarters. He couldn't forget the cell. Cityformers thought differently than most people. A strong sign of how they felt about their inhabitants was the location and furniture of their rooms. To give two prisoners such a room..."

3. Trypticon

Trypticon, weapon of terror and destruction during the war, sign of justice and security after the war. Few could have imagined the Decepticon would go peacefully back into his original function – to be a city – and yet here he was. Sitting proudly on Luna 2, holding the high security prison as well as the Halls of Justice, also called the High Courts.

Fortress Maximus stood on one of the many balconies and enjoyed the impressive sight of the massive silhouette against the black of the space, the lights that glittered warmly, the towers and spires that rose high into the sky, the elegant bridges that spanned across the sections, the transparent sky domes that laid scattered across the whole city.

::Maximus, incoming transport,:: a deep voice warned suddenly over his one comm line that was always open.

He glanced towards the planet Cybertron rising on the horizon and indeed noticed several small lights drawing closer. ::Thank you, Trypticon. I'll welcome them.::

As was his duty as the warden of Trypticon, his friend and manager. During the war, he had been responsible for the prison planet Garrus-9. It had been a peaceful job compared to many others, but it had held its own horrors to work with: criminals and the insane every single orn. After the war, people had finally looked at the Garrus prison planets and scrapped all but two of them. Instead, every prisoner was required to attend sessions with psychologists and codemasters (before, it had been deemed a waste of resources as every single soldier had needed them), which made it possible that most of the less dangerous prisoners could, slowly and with much supervision, be returned to society. It had made Fortress Maximus glad to witness this – even as it cost him his job.

Dark orns had followed, until Smokescreen had appeared before his run-down apartment door with the job offer to become the partner of Trypticon. Trypticon of all monsters! But he had had nothing to lose and Smokescreen had been very good at convincing him. Now, vorns later, he looked back to it as one of the best decisions of his life.

By the time he stepped onto the landing field, the guards with the new prisoners had already disembarked and the shuttle was taking off again with a quickstart manoeuvre and vanishing into space. Maximus frowned when he saw an entire Seeker squadron circling them above. He had known that heavy security was needed, yet to see such a massive presence of the military, of Seekers, sat uneasily with him.

As he neared, he noticed that none of the guards joked or even smiled. Instead, a special unit of the Enforcers stood there, tensely, with their weapons drawn as if expecting an attack at any moment.

His contact mech differed only in the fact that she stood in front of them and wasn't glancing back at the prisoners at all. He stepped towards her with a friendly smile: "Welcome to Trypticon. My designation is Fortress Maximus. I'm the warden."

"Howlback. These are my mechs." She nodded to the guards. "No problems so far on the transport."

For a split astrosecond, she seemed relieved. Maximus could understand it, as he had seen part of the extensive plans to move the prisoners securely. From rescue attempts of fanatic ex-Autobots, to attempts at revenge, to escape attempts of the very dangerous prisoners, everything had been considered and planned for.

The femme looked over the empty landing field coldly. "You're prepared?"

"Of course." He sent a silent question to Trypticon anyway and got a positive answer. "If you'll follow me, please?"

They did, and as they entered Trypticon, Maximus felt pent-up tension vanish that he hadn't even been aware of. Here, they were in Trypticon's and his domain. Here, every corridor held weapons and drones ready to fight. Here, energy shields and traps would stop any attack.

"You're not looking at them," said Howlback next to him.

Maximus nearly flinched. It was true.

The Enforcer watched him warily. "You were an Autobot." Not a question, just a statement. Was it that obvious? "Were you close?"

"No, not really." He vented for a few cycles. "It's only... My position was directly under them. No military chain, just - they ordered, I obeyed. I never asked who they sent to Garrus-9." He had trusted them completely. And wasn't that a terrifying thought? Here he had thought he had managed to survive the war without committing atrocities and now...

"I see," said Howlback slowly. "Don't let them fool you, they're dangerous."

He had already known that. He looked back at the two black and whites, at Jazz and Prowl walking surrounded by no less then twenty mechs ready to shoot at the slightest provocation, and yet they were utterly relaxed. Jazz even went so far to lean over to Prowl and to say something that made the former tactician smile.

Prisoners in their situation shouldn't be so relaxed. His well-honed instincts wailed that something was wrong, but his trained optics saw nothing. The Enforcers and he had thought about everything. He looked straight ahead once more.

The rest of the walk to the cell was in silence, their heavy steps echoing through the bright halls. Maximus remembered how the hallways had been dark and dirty when he had arrived, evidence of the sorry state of Trypticon. It made him proud to know that his friend now had the energy and will to keep even the smallest corner of himself in an impeccable condition.

"Here it is." Before them, the cell door opened on its own, as had all the doors previously. "Your new home."

Without hesitation, the two former Autobot officers stepped inside. Jazz whistled. "Nice."

It was. A bit surprised, Maximus looked around the room and noticed that it was more a small apartment than a cell. It held two berths, a couch with a small table, a shelf with several data pads, an energon dispenser and even a terminal with computer games.

::Trypticon?:: he asked hastily. ::That's not a standard cell.::

For the first time in vorns, he received no answer. Next to him, Howlback frowned and stalked over to the terminal without another word. "This better have no outside connection."

Jazz chuckled, amused, while Prowl just went over to the shelf.

"It has no connection at all," rumbled Trypticon's voice through the halls and buildings, startling all but Maximus, who was more relieved than anything. It was rare for the cityformer to speak with outsiders, but sometimes he chose to. "It only contains several games and music files."

Jazz's visor flashed warmly. "Really? Thank ya, Trypti!"

Howlback, whose blaster had heated up, relaxed. "I see." She walked out of the cell. "I hope the highest security measures have been taken?"

For a moment, Maximus expected Trypticon to answer, but the cityformer remained silent. It fell to the warden to handle the normal proceedings and bureaucracy. Cityformers, with their broad bodies and thousands of sensors that splintered their minds into thousands of strands, rarely had the patience and focus for it.

Maximus didn't mind this part of his function. "Of course. Do you wish to see the files?"

Howlback nodded. "Send them to my terminal." She winked at the two guards, who then unloaded a few datapads and a game on the table out of the cell. "Prowl, Jazz, your first court hearing has been scheduled in two orns. Your lawyer will be allowed to visit you at any time. Do you have questions?"

Jazz fell on the couch. "Nah, thank ya, Howlback, Ah'm fine. What 'bout ya, Prowler?"

The Praxian's wings flicked. "My designation is Prowl, Jazz." The annoyance in his voice was more playful than anything and vanished completely within the next sentence. "And I would like to know if it's a public hearing or not."

"Public," was the short answer.

Jazz grinned. "Told ya."

Prowl walked to the couch and sat next to him, wings spreading wide. Maximus thought suddenly that they looked a bit like a bonded pair in their own home. "There was the distinct possibility that this would not be the case."

"For ya, ev'ry possibility is distinct, as long as ya' can calculate it." Jazz winked at the group that was standing in the hall. "Close the door, will ya? It's impolite ta stare."

Before anyone could answer, Trypticon heeded the request and closed the door. Howlback huffed frustrated. "Those..." She forced herself to calm down. "Fortress Maximus, thank you for your hospitality. Those two are now Trypticon's and your responsibility. I wish you good luck."

Maximus had the feeling that he might need it. "Thank you. Shall I escort you back...?"

"No. We'll find the way." She turned and walked back the way they had come. "We'll see you at the trial."

The guards of the special unit followed her and then Maximus was alone. With a sigh, he walked back to the tower in the middle of Trypticon that held his office and quarters. He couldn't forget the cell. Cityformers thought differently than most people. A strong sign of how they felt about their inhabitants was the location and furniture of their rooms. To give two prisoners such a room... but they had been Autobots and Trypticon a Decepticon. It didn't fit. In the end, he asked.

::Trypticon, would you explain the cell to me?::

For a few seconds the cityformer didn't answer, then came the nearly sheepish rumble: ::They deserved this.::

Maximus felt dread. ::Why?::

This time the silence was even longer. When Trypticon spoke again, it was slow as if every word had to be forced: ::I never told you... because I wanted to forget. I was damaged in the war, and afterwards I floated in space. Hurting and alone.:: The last word had additional glyphs that showed a far deeper pain than anything before.

::Trypticon, my friend, my partner...:: Maximus tried to comfort, horrified by the revelation that Trypticon had been abandoned in space. Cityformers were not built to be alone. They were built for a constant hustling and bustling life. The darkness and eternal silence in space must have pushed Trypticon to the edge of sanity and maybe beyond. It explained so much.

::I was found,:: continued the giant. ::By Autobots. I expected a swift death and welcomed it. But instead they sent a notice to their superior, Prowl. He commed me. With a choice.:: A tremble went through the city.

::He didn't force you into something, right?:: he asked worriedly. Sure, Prowl was an Autobot, but with the latest revelations, anything was possible.

Trypticons next glyph was a smile. ::No. He said that he didn't want to deactivate me. That I could choose between just floating on, or being repaired by the Autobots on that ship. And that the Autobots would stay with me, until I reached Cybertron. He promised I wouldn't be...::

::Alone,:: finished Maximus for him, not for the first time wishing he could hug the cityformer. Instead, all he could do was to put a hand on the wall and caress it. It was more symbolic than anything. He could see what Prowl had done, he had forced his friend to live. Cruel, yes, but Maximus was thankful for it.

::Yes. The thought of just floating on was horrible enough to agree to anything. And not harming them was a small price.:: Trypticon sounded surer now, more certain and less emotional. It went against a cityformer's programming anyway to harm inhabitants. And mechs that repaired a cityformer were classified as inhabitants nearly by default.

Maximus leaned against the wall. ::I see. So you came back to Cybertron. And then?::

::Prowl and Jazz visited me and asked me what I wanted.:: The incredulity Trypticon had then felt was even now present in every glyph. No wonder, cityformers were rarely asked for their opinion about their own fate and Trypticon had been one of the most feared Decepticons as well. ::I didn't know. Ionly knew that I didn't want to deactivate any more. They gave me options.::

::What kind of options?::

::Many. But the thought of becoming a normal city again, to touch this cursed planet again... I couldn't.:: The glyphs were jagged, broken, just like a part of the spark of the giant. The killing on the battlefield had changed Trypticon into an angry, hateful being, that had hated itself the most. Cityformers were part of the defence of Cybertron, but in the Great War they were forced to fight against citizens, inhabitants, and each other. It had went against everything they were. ::So they offered that I remain on the second moon and become a prison. It was acceptable. I was close and far enough to Cybertron, had but few inhabitants and they were all controlled. I was safe.::

Maximus understood, as they had talked about it many times before. Especially as the warden tried and succeeded in persuading the cityformer to also host the High Courts of Cybertron. He pressed his head against the wall, shuttering his optics. ::You are always safe as long as I am there.::

It was a lie and both knew it, but it was the thought that counted. The: I protect you as well as I can. For a moment the hallway heated up and warm wind brushed Maximus' armour. It made him smile.

::I was content for a time. Then they visited again and said I needed a warden for the paperwork and because it would make me more 'stable'.:: The last word was one single angry glyph and Maximus chuckled. His friend surely had raged and howled against this. ::I said no. Instead of arguing, they gave me your file.::

::What?:: asked the warden startled. ::My...?::

::Yes.:: Trypticon seemed amused. ::They said they had already sent someone to recruit you and that you needed a prison to function.::

::But...:: Maximus vented. What Trypticon said could be true. Smokescreen had been Prowl's student and the warden had always wondered why Smokescreen of all mechs suddenly cared about him. ::It was functioning very well, ::he finally protested weakly.

::You were not.:: There were no additional defining glyphs to the words. Trypticon was serious. ::The thought that they would sent someone to 'fix' me, was unbearable. But you... I thought that maybe we could help each other out. You needed a prison, I needed a warden. Purely selfish reasons, just as the Decepticons had taught me.::

Maximus laughed, as if a cityformer could ever be entirely selfish. If they were, they would be ruling Cybertron. ::You big bad Decepticon,:: he muttered affectionately. ::I'm happy you gave me a chance.::

::I am too. And I'm thankful that I got the chance for this life with you... ::

Trypticon slipped into silence and Maximus' smile slowly vanished as he realised the implications of the talk with Trypticon. From rescue missions of fanatic ex-Autobots, to revenge attempts of former Decepticons, to escape schemes of the very dangerous prisoners, everything had been considered and planned for.

Everything, but a prison that didn't want to hold its prisoners.

Comments

[wicked3659.livejournal.com]

I love how you're weaving little clues into the story, hints at how everything is connected and very much in control Prowl and Jazz still are.

[cmdrtekk.livejournal.com]

Just found this. You appear to have a well crafted story lined out here. Prowl and Jazz seem very much in control of the situation and I am eagerly looking forward to seeing the various parts of this story play out and see the mysteries solved.

Thank you for sharing.

[bluebirdsoaring.livejournal.com]

Prowl and Jazz are the key to the whole world, even showing mercy to the Cons at the end of the war. If they hadn't asked for help trying to avoid being killed, I think the uprising to save them still would have occurred. It is only natural when the heart and soul of everything they have ever known is being put on trial and being put down as treason. The people won't sit by and just watch, no matter who is behind it or no matter how many armies they march with or seekers they fly with overhead.

The ironies of this chapter make it all the more sweet - The last line just punches it home. No one would ever have guessed compassion from a con prison, and I don't see the mech who has discovered this secret being one to rush off and demand they be moved either. It's true, they have earned no less than this, and IMO, so much more. WOW!!!

[silberstreif.livejournal.com]

After Lies and murder I got a taste for stories where the reader is left guessing. ^^

[silberstreif.livejournal.com]

Thanks! :) The story is outlined and finished, yes. But I have so much background material, that I contemplate to write a prequel - which would probably be around 150k words.

[silberstreif.livejournal.com]

Thanks for your review! Yes, they're definitely the key here, the one with all the answers.

And uprising is definitely in the cards and possible, but not the desired outcome here... ;)

I admit that Trypticon was never planned like this. But now he has become dear to me, and this Trypticon has managed to become kind of my new headcanon for him.

[neverminetohold.livejournal.com]

Finally, the stories continues ;) I really love this, how Jazz and Prowl are still in control, how you describe the cityformer, weave in all the background information - giving us readers more pieces to puzzle with - and my fav. part is the last sentence.

Poor TFs, even their prisons can be on the side of those incarcerated ^.^ I guess now I'm glad my house is totally non-intelligent LOL

[silberstreif.livejournal.com]

Yes, I'm back! :D My last few weeks were just really really crazy and then I needed a week to cool down. But now, I'm back in full force. Expect more from me soon. ;)

Trypticon is a dear here. I really like him and I hope to have a chance for write about cityformers again someday. They're fascinating.

Prowl and Jazz are definitely still plotting here.

LOL. Yep, fear the day when your house is intelligent enough to argue with you. ;)

[missmaryr]

Part of what I'm loving here is the contrast of what they are accused of and what everyone remembers.

[silberstreif.livejournal.com]

Thanks for your comment. :) Yes, there is a sharp contrast. I also tried to show that everyone remembers them a bit differently.

[neverminetohold.livejournal.com]

I hope it was good stress! And I'll be looking forward to more for sure! :)

I like the cityformers, too. The whole idea of them is very fascinating.

Well, you can already buy a fridge that will order new milk automatically and stuff like that. So we are not THAT far away from intelligent houses - and I would really love it if my PC could understand me, like the computers in Star Trek, for example!

[silberstreif.livejournal.com]

Yes good stress especially as I'm not reaping the benefits. :)

Oh yes. I still hope that in TF4 we'll see a cityformer or two. Wouldn't it be awesome to see them fighting in front of the moon?

Well, my fridge can't do that yet. It would be nice though. But I'm not sure if I want to talk to my PC. It's already strange enough that my phone can understand me...

[neverminetohold.livejournal.com]

At least your phone DOES understand you! I have a field day every time my father tries talking to his own LOL The poor thing can't even call 'Home' ROFL

[silberstreif.livejournal.com]

Poor baby phone, it still has to learn. ;) It works quite well for me, but I admit I prefer the usual way to "communicate" with my phone.
Talking... well, maybe in 10 years. Then I can come home and say: "House, do we have milk? No? Please order it."