Orion Pax looked up at the stars, and between him and the stars the twin points of Moon Bases One and Two. The other near-Cybertron object, Trypticon Station, was out of sight on the other side of the planet. He walked the swooping streets and bridges of Iacon, pondering some of what he had heard Megatron say.
Freedom is every Cybertronian's right!
Perhaps. But what did freedom mean? If there were no castes, if Cybertronians were not organized and channeled into productive lines... if every Cybertronian simply decided what he wanted to do, the entire planet would descend into chaos. Orion Pax remembered being taught that freedom consisted of being free to contribute to the tasks that were appropriate and necessary to the caste you were born into. Unlimited choice, rather than leading to freedom, led to the paralysis of confusion.
This was the teaching of... who, exactly? Sentinel Prime had never said it out loud, but he had overseen the rise of the caste system, preserving Cybertron when individuality threatened to tear the civilization of the Cybertronians into contending splinters.
Who does the caste system benefit? The higher castes! Who do the higher castes live off? You.
Orion Pax climbed a tower to an observation deck from which he could see all of Iacon. The contours of Cybertron, the living expression of Primus, arced away in all directions. Canyons leading to the interior, where Plasma welled up from the Well at the center of Cybertron, split the surface. Far, far to the west he could see the highest peaks of the Manganese Mountains. To the north, over the horizon, was Six Lasers Over Cybertron.
Thinking of the amusement park, Orion Pax felt a twinge of anger. He had never been there. It was the preserve of the higher castes. Only rarely did lower-caste Cybertronians pass through its gates, and Orion Pax had not yet been one of those fortunate lower-caste individuals.
Individuals know what is best for them! Who but I know what I need? Who but you may decide what is best for you?
I would like to go to Six Lasers, thought Orion Pax.
But if anyone walked up to Six Lasers and demanded to get in whenever the desire struck, the park would be overwhelmed. Structure was necessary. And individuals would never impose Structure on themselves. Would they?
Surely not. Sentient beings banded together and made decisions for the collective good. Not all of those decisions would benefit every individual.
He was tangled up, uncertain what he should be thinking or feeling.
What I need, thought Orion Pax, is a conversation that doesn’t happen inside my own head.
What Orion failed to notice,was his friend behind him staring at him intently,as he stood behind him, deciding to break him out of his trance he spoke up.
"I knew I would find you here" A familiar voice said,as he turned around and saw his friend, standing with his arms folded.
"And how did you know?"
"I can tell Orion Pax thinking on a tower to an observation deck anywhere on Cybertron"
"You know me all too well"
"I do,you seem deep in thoughts care to share?
"I would,but I am not so sure,I can do that right here"
"I think you should,over a drink? With a fellow bot friend of ours to quench our reflections?"
"Sounds like a good plan"
“What we should do,” Jazz said, after Orion Pax and Razer had tracked him down and met him at Maccadam’s Old Oil House, “is go to Kaon and see the gladiator fights for ourselves.”
YOU ARE READING
Transformers Prime Exodus
ActionThe past of Optimus and Megatron before their fallout. Which in here tells the story of a Cybertronian who witnessed the fall,with his own optics as he became Orion's mediator and who he was before he became Orion's colleague as a Data Clerk himself...
