Transformers: Survival of Defective Products

Chapter 151 BICk0 - The Talent of the Successor

Rumble, lying on her right side, whispered, "So... Optimus Prime really said that?"

He stared blankly at the screen: "That's what the report says."

The mechanical dog lay silently at her feet.

AZ stood at the edge, his gaze fixed on the line of text, awaiting the Chief Justice's judgment.

The medical staff dared not speak.

The vector finally lifted the optical mirror, without any preamble.

"The Quintessons are not the creators."

Boom Boom froze, tilting its head in confusion to look at her, while the mechanical dog gently rubbed against her feet.

One of the medical personnel hesitated before speaking: "But the report came from Optimus Prime, and he used 'maybe'."

"I saw it."

The vector extends its left hand, its fingertip touching the screen.

"That's the problem."

The screen was pushed outwards, and several keywords on the report summary were highlighted in red: Five-faced monster, self-proclaimed, involved in creation, perhaps.

"First, their claim to participate in creation does not mean they are the creators."

"Second, even if they did participate in a creative process, it does not mean that they automatically acquire the status of creators."

Rumble struggled to keep up: "Aren't these two different?"

“It’s not the same,” Vector said. “Being involved in something and having full control over its definition are not the same thing.”

Confused, she nodded slowly.

"Third, even if they can prove that they have some kind of origin, it does not mean that they naturally have the right to judge, rule, and interpret Cybertronian civilization."

She sorted out those words one by one, like taking apart tangled metal wires.

"Facts, identity, and rights are all separated."

She nodded to her self-designation.

"This is a self-statement."

Then I clicked on "Creator".

"This is an identity claim."

Finally, she stopped at "maybe".

"This is Optimus Prime's cautious judgment, not a confirmed conclusion."

Rumble opened his mouth, then finally managed to stammer out, "So they're just mixing all this stuff up?"

"Yes," said the vector, "and very cleverly at it."

Confused realized: "Because as soon as everyone starts discussing whether they are the creators, it's already assumed that they have the right to intervene in this matter."

AZ then spoke up: "They've put themselves into the question of origins."

The vector looked at him.

AZ stated calmly, "Once the origins are mentioned, beliefs, history, law, and factions will all be drawn in. Cybertron currently lacks a sufficiently stable central control over this matter."

"So they chose this time," the vector said.

Her face was expressionless, but her coldness was more obvious than her anger.

"Cybertron has just experienced four million years of civil war. The AllSpark has left, and the native order has been ravaged like this. The Ark and the Nemesis both landed on Arquitron, where Optimus Prime and Megatron were. At this time, a group of external civilizations suddenly appeared, claiming that they may have been involved in our origins."

She paused, then sneered, "You really know how to pick a day."

Rumble frowned as well: "Was that on purpose?"

On the screen, Optimus Prime's report continued to display. It included footage of the exterior of the Arquitron Tribunal, a record of the Quintessons' outlines, and the Ark's preliminary translation of ancient texts.

He glanced at the vector a few times, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

"The second big problem."

She raised her hand and dragged out the inferences about Pujin from the report.

The medical staff exchanged glances.

This aspect has already sparked controversy within the judicial system. Some recorders believe that if the Quintessons participated in the creation process, they may be linked to the Primal Chaos faith. Some theological archives recommend a delay in denying their origin. Some wartime arbitration bodies have cautioned that Optimus Prime possesses the Matrix of Leadership, and his judgment should not be simply rejected.

The vector looked like it wanted to laugh, not happy; the brain module was so angry that it started automatically looking for a low-level outlet.

"Well played, even Pu Shen was brought down."

The rumbling sound made his brain module throb: "What is this now?"

The explanation given was: "They believe that if the Quintessons were indeed involved in creation, they might be related to Primus."

Boom was shocked, his mouth agape in an "O" shape: "This is related?"

AZ said calmly, "As long as you're willing to put in the effort, anything can be connected."

The vector coldly replied, "No."

The hibernation chamber fell silent again.

She dragged the word "Pu Shen" to one side and "Wu Fa Meng" to the other side.

"Pus is the originating concept in Cybertronian beliefs, and it is the core of the long-standing formation of mythology, history, and the philosophy of fire. You can believe in it, or you can question it; you can study the textual sources, or you can discuss different interpretations."

She pointed to the other side.

"The Quintessons are the external entities that are now appearing on Aquitron."

On the screen, the blurry image of the five-faced monster slowly rotated.

The vector looked at them, its voice calm and cold.

"There is no automatic connection between the two."

"Just because the Quintesson mentioned 'creation' doesn't mean we should incorporate it into the pantheon of beliefs."

"Just because Optimus Prime said 'maybe' doesn't mean it's divine decree."

"We cannot allow the first person to claim to know the answer to sit in the position of the origin just because we do not know the origin."

There was no way to open the hibernation chamber for the time being.

Rumble looked at her and whispered, "You're already this fierce as soon as you wake up."

Yin Xiang turned his head to look at him, and Banglong immediately covered his mouth.

AZ chuckled softly.

The vector looked over and asked, "What are you laughing at?"

"It's nothing," AZ said. "It just reminds me of you."

"You're already judging me as soon as I wake up."

"You've barely woken up and you're already denying a creation claim from an external civilization," AZ said, looking at her. "I meant it as praise."

The lead medical unit hesitated before speaking, "But what if the Quintessons did indeed possess data related to the origins of Cybertron?"

She asked very carefully, but she put all the questions she dared not point out in her heart on the table.

The vector's mood actually improved as a result: "That's a good question."

The medical machine froze. The vector temporarily retracted several inferences on the screen, leaving only the original report and evidence entries.

"They may possess information, have had contact with early Cybertronian civilizations, and know things we don't. These all need to be investigated."

She paused.

"But to investigate is not the same as to believe."

"Recording does not equate to admitting."

"Listening does not mean relinquishing the right to judge."

The mechanical dog moved slightly at her feet, its tail wrapping around her ankle. Vector casually lifted its chin and scratched it twice.

"If they have evidence, let the evidence speak for itself. But if they don't, yet they demand that we acknowledge their identity first, then it's not a question of origin."

As soon as she finished speaking, light and restrained footsteps came from outside the hibernation room.

The access light at the entrance lit up, and the medical device looked at the identification screen, immediately announcing: "Secretary and Acting Director of the Judicial Center, BICk0."

The vector suddenly recalled a young, nervous person standing among a group of candidates with ridiculously impressive resumes, trying to pretend that they had no regrets about applying for the job.

I also remember the first time she organized the messy draft bills on her desk, she broke down the chaos into categories, time, priority, and the speed of the execution path.

At that time, she felt that this opportunity shouldn't just be a chance to try her luck.

When the door opened, BICk0 was standing outside. She looked much more mature than I remembered. Her appearance hadn't changed much, but her posture was different.

She used to be so tense, as if afraid of taking a place she shouldn't have, that tension was hidden in many details. Now she's still tense, but no longer out of timidity; she's just taken on more responsibility.

"BICk0, Secretary and Acting Director of the Judicial Center."

She entered the hibernation room, pushed an encrypted briefing from the terminal toward the vector, and kept her voice as steady as possible.

"Submit an urgent briefing on the Aquitron Synchronization event to the Chief Justice."

Rumble watched her quietly, confused and huddled in the arms of the vector, while the mechanical dog lay motionless at the vector's feet.

AZ stepped aside, making way for the briefing transmission channel.

Vector looked at BICk0: "Acting Director?"

BICk0 answered: "Yes."

"How long have you been an agent?"

BICk0 paused for a moment: "Nearly four million years."

The vector remains silent for a fleeting moment.

She looked at the secretary in front of her, whom she had once chosen from the candidate pool, and for a moment she didn't know what to say first.

In the end, she simply said, "Thank you for your hard work."

BICk0's fingers trembled very slightly.

"This is my duty."

"Responsibilities can be tiring too."

BICk0 suddenly lifted the optical mirror.

Yin Xiang's tone was calm, even carrying a hint of weariness from just waking up.

"But don't get too emotional yet," she said. "I still have to see your four million years of messy accounts."

BICk0 couldn't help but want to laugh, but tried to straighten his lips as much as possible: "Yes."

She enabled the briefing permissions.

As the light screen unfolded, she briefly recalled that job interview from many years ago.

-

BICk0 felt he wouldn't be selected at the time.

She had no connections, no impressive resume, and no one to vouch for her. The candidate room was filled with people who seemed far more suited for the job: those with strong paperwork skills, those with security experience, those with excellent communication skills, and those whose resumes were so perfect they looked like templates come to life.

BICk0 sat in the waiting area, repeatedly checking her application materials, until the system almost thought she was attacking the files.

Then it was her turn to go into the interview room.

Vector didn't ask many clever questions; it simply pushed a draft bill in front of her that was so messy that even the review machine was speechless.

"Ten minutes," she said, "to make it look presentable to me."

BICk0's hands were shaking at first, but after organizing a few lines, she calmed down.

The defined items were moved to the top, the implementing entities were separated according to their authority levels, duplicate clauses were merged, conflict times were highlighted in red, and paragraphs lacking supporting evidence were highlighted in gray. Finally, she made a short list and even divided the entire draft into urgent availability, availability after review, postponement, and obsolescence.

When the time came, all the cameras in the interview room were watching her.

She thought she had overstepped her authority and cursed herself inwardly for changing so many things!

She was about to explain when she heard the vector generator ask, "We didn't have a machine for you to do this before?"

BICk0 couldn't answer, and the vector didn't press further.

She simply pushed the draft back to the staff.

"She stayed."

After that day, BICk0 became the chief judge's secretary.

She later learned that the vector control hadn't simply eliminated the other candidates. Those with strong paperwork skills went to the core archives, those suited for execution went to the central assistance team, those with good communication skills were placed in the legislative liaison department, and the remaining candidates were also reassigned to more suitable positions.

BICk0 realized for the first time that choices don't necessarily have to result in a winner or loser, nor do they necessarily have to prove who is more valuable than whom.

Some machines are just in the wrong place.

She followed the Chief Justice around, gradually getting used to his unusually irregular schedule. In the morning, he would deal with disputes over energy allocation in the city; at noon, he would confront the Supreme Council; in the afternoon, he would review new bills; and in the evening, he could "casually glance" at a case file that was so thick it could smash through a table.

When BICk0 first heard the word "easy," he almost shoved the case file back into her hands, letting her see for herself just how thick this "easy" really was.

Of course she didn't dare.

She simply broke the case file into six parts, prioritized them, marked them with processing times, and then replaced the energy drink that the lead vector hadn't drunk.

After watching her finish, Yin Zongli suddenly said, "You're very suited for this."

BICk0 asked: "Is it appropriate to reorganize the bill?"

"Make things organized."

BICk0 has always remembered this sentence.

Later, the vector fell into a deep sleep.

The medical tower sent a sealing notice, and the judicial center activated its proxy authority.

In the first few days, BICk0 would subconsciously put the files to be reviewed into the permission area of ​​the index vector, and only remember to retrieve them after putting them in.

Review it yourself, analyze it yourself, write preliminary opinions, and submit it to the temporary review group.

Her hands trembled noticeably when she first signed the agency agreement.

She thought she would be replaced soon, but the war did not give her that chance.

Refugee zone registration, wartime evidence sealing, mediation of factional conflicts, urban relocation disputes, and energy allocation arbitration.

She couldn't say no, nor could she return those things to a dormant machine.

BICk0 stood next to an empty spot, desperately trying to prevent the system she left behind from collapsing.

She didn't want to become a gravitational vector, and she was also afraid that the organic world would really see her that way.

She learned very slowly. She learned how the chief judge used to find evidence, how to listen to emotions, and how to ultimately look at the facts.

She made mistakes, corrected them, was scolded, and even cried late at night looking at mountains of documents, feeling that she definitely wouldn't make it to tomorrow.

As a result, she still finished processing those documents the next day.

Four million years is not a number in the sky for her.

It consists of countless documents, meetings, belated battle reports, and temporary permissions that must be decided immediately.

Finally, she received a new title: Secretary and Acting Director of the Judicial Center.

She ran desperately in the direction she had left behind, wanting to inherit her mantle.

And now, the gravitational vector has awakened.

-

BICk0 stood in front of her and pushed the briefing aside.

"The judicial authorities currently retain a Level 3 file on the Aquitron Synchronous Incident."

"Level 1 is the original transmission content of Ark, Level 2 is the backup from Crystal City relay, and Level 3 is the disputed items sorted out by the judicial center."

"Regarding the origin of the Quintessons, no unified conclusion has yet been reached internally."

The vector control officer took over the briefing: "Points of contention."

BICk0 immediately brings up the list.

"The semantic scope of the Quintessons' claim to be their creator is ambiguous. Their origin claims lack a complete chain of evidence, but involve ancient texts and traces of technology that appear to be from the pre-Cybertron era."

"The archives related to the Puscan faith have been accessed and analyzed by multiple departments, which poses a risk of conceptual confusion."

"The Optimus Prime report is highly authoritative, but its use of the word 'maybe' does not constitute a confirmation."

She paused for a moment.

"And, the reactions from various parties within Cybertron have begun to diverge."

Looking at the briefing, the vector expert asked, "To what extent has it differentiated?"

Some Autobots tend to believe Optimus Prime's judgment. Some Decepticons believe it's an Arquitron trap. Neutral cities demand a delay in releasing the full report. Crystal City suggests that the judicial authorities conduct a review of the chain of evidence, but do not want to trigger further conflict between factions before a conclusion is reached.

After listening, the vector remained silent for a short while.

"In other words, before we've even confirmed what the Quintessons actually are, Cybertron itself is already starting to argue about it."

AZ said calmly, "Everyone has been very stable in this regard."

Rumble muttered to himself, "They might already be arguing."

Confusion: "Remove 'maybe'."

With a raised hand, he interrupted the two miniature giants who were about to turn into a comedy duo.

She looked at BICk0 again: "What do you think?"

BICk0 took a deep breath. This was the Chief Justice asking her how to handle a statement that could potentially shake up the Cybertronian origin story.

She stood ramrod straight: "I don't think we can admit it."

She enunciated clearly to ensure that her meaning was not misunderstood.

"The Quintesson's statements can only be considered as claims pending verification at this time."

"Optimus Prime's judgment can raise the priority of the investigation, but it cannot replace evidence."

"The files related to Primus can be used as reference material, but they cannot be used to endorse the identity of the Quintessons."

She then added, "The Chief Justice's judgments will also be publicly adjudicated by the public. This is a rule you left behind."

The vector looked at her.

BICk0's fingers, hanging at his sides, tightened slightly, as if he had just finished his thesis defense and was preparing for his professor's questions.

The vector couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well done."

BICk0 stared at her.

The vector said, "You didn't enshrine my place like a shrine."

The tense atmosphere in the hibernation chamber finally eased a little.

Rumble couldn't help but ask, "If you were to be worshipped, what would the offerings be?"

Confusion: "Unresolved bills".

AZ: "There's also a court hearing."

He rolled his eyes at them.

BICk0 lowered his head, as if he wanted to laugh, but quickly adjusted his expression back to work.

The vector then collapsed the briefing: "The complete file is not in the medical tower."

BICk0 immediately replied: "It's in the judicial center. The Crystal City relay backup is also there. Crystal Prism has approved temporary access, but it requires the Chief Justice's authority to restart."

"Crystal prism?"

"She is the representative of Crystal City," BICk0 said. "She has cooperated with the judicial center on numerous occasions during the war. She is responsible for the preservation of archives and coordination of access for neutral city-states."

Under the influence of the vector, remember this name, and then prop yourself up in the hibernation pod to prepare to stand up.

The lead medical machine seemed eager to become her support: "Your Excellency the Chief Justice is not fit to leave the medical tower at this time."

The vector stared at her intently.

The medical equipment manufacturer reluctantly added, "At least complete the basic stability tests."

"Test as you go."

The medical machine hesitated for a moment, then finally gave in.

Rumble and Confusion took advantage of the momentum to jump off the hibernation pod, one landing on her right shoulder and the other in the crook of her left arm.

The mechanical dog stood up and quietly followed at her feet.

AZ turned around naturally, completely acknowledging that he could come along.

The medical machine, seeing this small, inexplicable but already tacitly agreed-upon line, simply gave up struggling.

"At least bring a mobile monitoring device."

Vector: "Okay."

Just as the medical machine breathed a sigh of relief, the vector sensor said again, "Don't make a sound."

Medical machine: "...as much as possible."

BICk0 opens the path to the judicial center.

Outside the medical tower, the cold blue traffic lines inside Crystal City extend from the medical district to the city center.

Looking in the direction of the judicial center, Yin Zongxiang felt a mix of emotions.

"Go to the judicial center."