Article 19599 of alt.toys.transformers: Path: usenet.ins.cwru.edu!wariat.org!en.com!news.erinet.com!uunet!in1.uu.net!hoho.quake.net!hilbert.dnai.com!isdn6-123 Article 19599 of alt.toys.transformers: Path: usenet.ins.cwru.edu!wariat.org!en.com!news.erinet.com!uunet!in1.uu.net!hoho.quake.net!hilbert.dnai.com!isdn6-123 From: lizard@expressway.com (Lizard) Newsgroups: alt.toys.transformers Subject: [Fanfic] Renegades, Chapter IV Date: Wed, 19 Jul 95 16:31:12 GMT Organization: Ferengi Academy of Business Ethics Lines: 661 Message-ID: <3ujc0g$gg0_001@isdn6-123.dnai.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: isdn6-123.dnai.com X-Newsreader: News Xpress Version 1.0 Beta #4 Well, here it is...BTW, I noticed that none of the first three chapters of "Renegades" seem to be on any of the FTP sites...is there some place for me to UL them? Renegades Chapter IV -- Joining The chamber was immense. The roof arched high above, to the point where optics needed to go to magnification mode to make out the details. It stretched on, and on, and on, into darkness. And it was *very* far underneath the surface. Hook and his Constructicons entered first;the newly-named Combaticon team followed;and behind them was a full squadron of the finest Decpeticon air warriors. Also along, of course, was Soundwave, with his 'family' surrounding him. Hook looked around, slightly nervous. He wasn't sure why. He'd done this before, several times;but dealing with *him* (or was it 'it'?) always unnerved him. Not that he'd let anyone else know! "Onslaught! Give the command!" Onslaught nodded, glancing at the other four. They looked back, hesitantly. Swindle shrugged. "Might as well go for it, boss. We made a deal." Onslaught faced Hook, then spoke. "Combaticons! Form...Combiner-B!" That was the temporary codename, of course. The new being wouldn't have a name until after.... Onslaught's thought was shattered in a whirlwind of energy and transformation. The verbal command activated preprogrammed instructions. He leapt upwards, his body changing in ways it never had before, as he flew towards the others. Vision was chaotic. He could see Swindle and Brawl, below him, contorting into legs;Blast-Off and Vortex flying towards him from the left and right, rearranging themselves as they did. Then, there was a sudden contact, and his consciousness seemed to vanish altogether for a moment. It returned. He was in a very dark place...no, not dark. Lightless. Soundless. Sensationless. Not soundless. Not quite. Voices? "I want *out* of this deal!" "Gotta hit somethin, gotta hit somethin, gotta hit somethin...." "The darkness..." "They'll pay. Oh, how they'll pay..." Experimentally, he tried to send a thought to his teammates. "Combaticons! Attention!" "Attention? We don't have bodies!" "Swindle? Zat' you?" "Of course it's him, you idiot." "Yes, and his mind is the most astonishing wastepit of..." "Vortex? You're reading my mind? Hey! Stay out of there!" Swindle suddenly filled his consciousness with endless equations of profit and loss, trying to drown any lingering thoughts of deeds done in his past. But wait...if they can see into my mind...I can see into.. "SILENCE!" Onslaught's mental command shot through the chatter. "I am in command here. Blast-Off. Does this...place...seem empty to you?" "Yes. It's odd. I have no sense of body, but I feel a sense of...space. It's like netspace, only totally empty...like the dead areas of the CyberNet." "Hey, you know where you can get the *good* datagrams?" "Shut up, Brawl.", 'said' Swindle, Blast-Off, and Vortex in perfect mental unison. "Just askin'. Sheesh." "OK, fine, we're all better now. But what are we waiting for? What's happening out there?" "I am...trying to control the optics of this new body. But I cannot. The body...isn't mine. It's...uninhabited." "This is *spooky*." "Thank you for that brilliant observation." "Hey, I was just talkin', you know?" Listening to the mental chatter, Onslaught wished he had a head to shake in disbelief and disgust. From hero of the Revolution....to nursebot to a cheat, a sadist, an egomaniac and an idiot. "HEY! Who're you calling a...." "cheat?" "sadist?" "egomaniac?" "er...what did he call me again?" And, apparently, no privacy. *** Hook looked up, up, up at the being before him. A lifeless, immobile, statue, it still had the power to impress. Of course, he mused, I've seen this stage before. It's the next part whch always fails. He glanced at the guard troops. They were alert. His own Constructicons? Ready. Starscream? Standing, looking impatient. Let him stew a bit, Hook thought. I'm not going to hurry for him. He made a show of checking, and rechecking, his calculations. He called Scrapper over, had him perform some final tests. Every few seconds, he'd glance at Starscream. Careful now...time this right. There. Starscream was stepping forward, opening his mouth to speak... Hook activated the Key. From the floor in front of him, a pylon arose, flowing up out of the metal like a living thing. The top of the pylon glowed brightly, level with Hook's face. He took a different shape each time, Hook noted. Why? Then, the voice. Deep, resonant, and terrifying. To every Cybertronian, it was literally the voice of the Creator. The Quintessons had built their shells -- but *he* had made their souls. "BEFORE CYBERTRON WAS, I WAS. WHO AWAKENS ME?" "I...Hook, one of your children. I ask you to give life to this being. Make him a warrior, a soldier, a skilled fighter for the Decepticon cause. Make him strong, focussed, disciplined. Take the best of those who compose his body, in order to form his soul." Well, it was a pretty speech, Hook thought to himself, but *he* was not a simple computer to obey inputs blindly. The next few seconds would tell. There was an almost imperceptible flicker. Then: "IT IS DONE." The pylon melted back into the ground. The Key stopped glowing. Hook turned back to the being behind him, and saw the light flicker in his eyes... **** Darkness. Light. Awareness. For the first time, light flooded through newly activated optics. At the same time, the light of consciousness exploded internally. For a brief...painfully brief...moment, the new being was one with all of Cybertron, linked to Vector Sigma, the source of all consciousness, all life. And then the connection shattered, forever, and the new being stood alone. A voice. Words. "Who are you?" There was no need to ponder that. Self-identity was instinctive, as was speech and basic functionality. There was no period of uselessness;a Cybertronian was self-supporting from the instant of its' creation. "I...AM...BRUTICUS." Bruticus looked down, allowing himself to identify what he saw. Below him, many other Cybertronians...but so tiny! Around him...a chamber, huge compared to the little beings below him. And there were voices! So many voices, echoing through his mind...hard to think. Hard to filter them out. But there was something else...duty. Yes, duty. I am a soldier. A soldier obeys orders. The information flowed into his consciousness from the vast store of data he was born knowing, but not understanding. But I have no orders to obey! There was a moment of confusion, of panic, of doubt, then the answer came:Ask for them. So he did. "WHAT...ARE...MY...ORDERS?" Hook looked up, trying to control his excitement. Every prior experiment had either collapsed in a pile of brain-dead wreckage at this point or gone on a mad rampage. But this one....no. It was too early to tell. Still, no reason not to have fun... "We must test your reflexes!" Hook pointed at Starscream. "Pretend that one is an enemy! What do you do?" An enemy? What was...then it came to his consciousness. An enemy must be destroyed. But how? There was so much information on combat and fighting in his memory storage, but how to pick what to do? For a moment, there was confusion, then he knew. The voices were telling him! He lurched towards Starscream, clumsily at first, then more surely. His body felt odd initially, like it wasn't really his, but then he got the feel for it. The enemy, the small blue one...grab him! Crush him! Hurl him against the wall! Deep within, Brawl exhorted Bruticus to action. Starscream had humiliated him, trapped him, tortured him...now he'd make him pay! And the others weren't resisting...indeed, they seemed eager to wreak their own vengeance, and this body they shared was a perfect tool. Individual conflicts forgotten, the five and one formed, for a time, a single consciousness, united in purpose. Starscream had a second to react in horror at Hook's pronouncement, then began to stagger backwards, watching the lumbering giant move towards him with ever-growing dexterity and purpose. In three steps, it had transformed from a clumsy gargantua to a smoothly striding engine of devestation. Cold metal pressed against Starscream's back. Back to the wall, he thought. Well, that's when I'm at my best. So....Hook wants to test this creature's reflexes, eh? Let's see how he does against the Ace of the Cybertronian Air Academy! His mettalic features set in a malign sneer, Starscream transformed to his flight mode and launched directly at Bruticus. The creature was too big for null-rays, and that wouldn't be fun, anyway...Starscream summoned forth his wingtip lasers, each appearing at the vertex of one of his three saillike wings. His first shots caught Bruticus square in the chest. Only light discoloration appeared, of course, but it still stung. Bruticus tried to swat at the small flyer, but it wasn't there...then another sting, from behind...he whirled, and there was a lashing burn along a leg...he bent down, and a laser seared along an arm. No matter which way he turned, it wasn't there! His motions grew more frantic. The voices were all calling out contradictory commands....too much information, too many conflicting ideas....he felt his mind starting to fracture... ..and then his body did, too, and Bruticus' personality fragmented among the five bodies, to lie dormant until they joined again. The five fell to the ground, seared from where Starscream had raked them in their combined form. Onslaught staggered to his feet, and fixed Starscream with a truly evil stare. "What is the point in tormenting a newly-born warrior?" "The point is to be sure you have control over him!" Starscream shouted back, his fear finally coming to the fore. If he'd been a trifle slower, if one of those blows had connected...."We've already SEEN what happens if something that size can't be controlled correctly!" He smiled at Hook, who said nothing. The other four began to speak at once. "That was...." "FUN!" exclaimed Brawl. "disgusting." sneered Blast-Off. "intriguing." Vortex was almost purring. Such interesting minds.... "disturbing." Swindle looked around at his four partners. He had never imagined the deepest recesses of his mind exposed like that. He considered all he had learned about them...and feared all they learned about him. What good was a treasure trove of blackmail information when it was shared by four others? Well....two others. Brawl was too stupid to know what to do with it, Blast-Off too haughty to care. Onslaught, he knew, would use it to keep them in line....but Vortex...there's the real problem. "Pondering something, Swindle?" Vortex had closed the gap between them. "A new deal? Some treachery? It astonishes me how....entangled...you are. You skim off the top while dealing from the bottom, as it were." "Not at all, not at all. It's obvious that your...militaristic...background blinds you to the intricacies of modern commerce. I'll be *quite* happy to explain anything you might fail to understand." Vortex laughed. "Oh, believe me, I understand all too well." Hook and Scrapper approached. "The others will accompany you back to your cell. I'll be contacting you later regarding the timing of further tests." "'Cell'?" Swindle's voice echoed practiced outrage. "Haven't we proven our loyalty?" Hook's eyes glowed malevolently. "Do you take me for a fool? It will be a long time before you are trusted enough to..." he stopped. Soundwave was beginning to transmit a signal. "WRONG, Hook! I am the arbiter of security here!" Galvatron's voice was, as always, a mixture of authority and insanity. "*MY* judgement says they are to be given adequate lodging in the main complex. Dare YOU question it?" Even through the hologram, Galvatron radiated an aura of menace. "N..No, Administrator. I was just..." "Just DEFYING my ORDERS! You are fortunate I permit you to continue existing. Do as I command!" With that, the hologram blinked off. Soundwave stood, impassive and uncommenting, but Hook knew that he was scanning for any sign of treason. In mute rebuttal, Hook began to mentally recite the tensile strengths of the three thousand, six hundred and ninety-one metals available on Cybertron, at all known temperatures. In binary. "Hey! You heard Galvatron. Stop stallin'! Take us to our rooms!" "Very well, Brawl. Long Haul! Bonecrusher! Escort them to the western corridor, third level." **** Swindle studied the room he had been given. It was small -- perhaps sixty feet by forty feet. On the left wall was a recharging palette, on the right a small energon dispensor and a computer terminal. A circular holodisplay occupied the center of the room;displayed was a menu of programs, almost all propaganda or battle simulations. Swindle went to the palette, lay down, and extended tiny wires from his fingers into the appropriate sockets on the bed. The connection was made. His consciousness began a slow, voluntary shutdown;his internal systems began shunting energy from servos and polymer muscle and integrity fields into creating thousands upon thousands of nanobots which spread through his body like a horde of ants. Energon was converted into simple matter, the simple matter into complex molecules, which were transported by the nanobots to where it was needed. Worn rotors were rebuilt, frayed wiring strengthened. Serious damage, of course, required hours or days in repair bays;the self-repair mechanisms could only do so much. As his body regenerated itself, so did his mind. Beings who live for hundreds of thousands, even millions,of years need to filter and process their information even more than short-lived beings do. The total capacity of a Cybertronian brain was immense, but still finite;Swindle's priority filters, his 'subconscious', if you will, discarded some experiences as irrelvant, compressed similair experiences together to save space, and subtly edited a few so as to not set up negative feedback loops that might conflict with his fundemental programming. One of his countless mental defense programs noted a discrepancy. It attempted to call in correctional algorithms, run doublechecks on the data, and signal the conscious mind of the problem...when it was overwhelmed and devoured by a cyberspatial entity that smashed through Swindle's internal barriers as if they did not exist. The entity rampaged across the mind, altering, tainting, infecting...then withdrew as quickly as it had come. Swindle stirred slightly on the bed, then relaxed again, oblivious. **** "A *hurricane* cannon?" Onslaught nodded. "Yes, a hurricane cannon." He glanced disdainfully down at Hook. "You *can* install one, cant you?" Hook looked up from his workbench. A dozen tools, two dozen holographic sketches in various states of completion, and a multitude of parts lay splayed out in front of him. Around him, the huge workroom was crammed with much the same -- an incredible array of technology and data, most only partially understood. "Of course! But Im curious as to why you want one for Bruticus. Wouldnt an electron gun be a better choice?" Besides, Hook thought to himself, Ive got one of those preassembled... "No. Bruticus is powerful, but his aim is poor. While trying to draw a bead on one foe, he can be overwhelmed. His strategy, then, is to disable a large number of attackers, then destroy them bare-handed...or fragment and let the Combaticons handle the now-weakened attackers. The flexibility of this new style of fighting offers many....possibilities." Which was true as far as it went, he mused, but the hurricane cannon was needed for his immediate plans. It could be replaced later if necessary. Hook was silent for a moment. If I defy him, and Bruticus fails, I look bad. But if I accede to his requests...if Bruticus still fails, it becomes *his* fault, and if Bruticus triumphs, I can claim some of the credit for building his weapons. Not bad... "Ill be happy to do it, Onslaught. Ill let you know shortly when the fitting will take place." "Good." Onslaught was puzzled at how quickly the Constructicon commander had relented. Hook had been extremely difficult of late...the success of the "Combiner-B" project, rather than elevating him, had made him replaceable...Devastator was no longer unique. And, if all goes well, in short order, Devastator will be out of the picture for a while. *** "One more time, Brawl." "Come on, Swindle...weve done this twelve times already." "And you got it wrong ten of those twelve. Say it again." "I go to find Long Haul, right? And I make fun of da fact he got whupped by dat wimp Autobot Bumblebee, right? And hes supposed to tell me he can whup me, and then, I tear him to pieces, right?" Swindle nodded. "Right." "But...I kinda *like* Long Haul. I dont wanna rip him. You want I should rip up Hook instead?" Swindle tossed his hands in the air. "I give up. Vortex...why dont you try explaining it to gear-brain here?" Vortex nodded silently, then walked over to Brawl. "Brawl. If you do not follow Onslaughts plan to the letter, he will tear out your endoskeleton and use it clean the grit from his joints. Understand?" Brawl, stunned into silence for once, just shook his head affirmatively. Vortex turned sneeringly towards Swindle. "You know, I think our Commander overestimates your psychological acumen." "Hey....I prefer to get people to deal with me because they want to, not because theyre terrified." "*I* prefer whatever works." "And *I* would prefer to not deal with you...or with anyone else...at all. But I see no realistic alternative." "Yeah, Blast-Off. We all know how much *better* you are than the rest of us." "Im glad to see you acknowledge it." he replied, missing the sarcasm entirely. "ATTENTION!" The four ceased what was about to become a full scale bickerfest and turned towards the door. Onslaught stood there, arms crossed, looking down at them. "Ive secured the weapon from Hook. Hell be installing it in Bruticus subspace partition tomorrow. Then, next time we drill..." Onslaught bent down so he was optic-to-optic with Brawl. "Brawl, were depending on you. Freedom or slavery rests on what you do now. Do you understand your orders?" "Yeah. I do." "Good. Then carry them out!" Brawl transformed. His repulsors hummed as the built up the power to lift his armored form off the metal floor. The sound became a deafening rumble as he accelerated out of the central meeting room. "Uh...boss..." "Call me Commander, Swindle. We will have discipline." Yeah, and call me something other than Swindle, why dont you, thought Swindle, but kept it to himself. "Commander. What if Bruticus doesnt go along with the plan? I mean...hes someone, too. Whats in it for him?" Onslaught considered. As a general, he was used to thinking in terms of orders, loyalty, discipline...but Swindle thought in terms of deals and profits. He had useful insights, sometimes. What *was* in it for Bruticus? *** In his vehicle mode, Long Haul resembled an elongated platform, with a pilot area at the front end and powerful thrusters at the back. His broad, flat center surface could carry tremendous amounts of cargo, and he could reconfigure it for liquid transport as well. Physically, he was ideally suited for his supply role; mentally, it chafed at him. Hook and Scrapper got to design and build; Mixmaster made explosives and unique materials; Bonecrusher was often on the front lines, and even Scavenger got to explore and discover. But *I* just move stuff. Forward scanners picked up a moving shape....Autobots? Nah. Brawl. Probably with some new orders from Galvatron. "Yeah, what is it?" Long Haul grunted. "Uh...Onslaught said there was...uhm...trouble possible, and dat I should escort you to Vilnacron." Long Haul said nothing at first, just moved over on the broad roadway to allow Brawl to roll parallel to him. After a while, though, his boredom got the better of him. "So Onslaught thinks I cant handle any trouble on my own? What does *Galvatron* think?" OK, thought Brawl. Dats my cue..."Well, I aint talked to the Administrator *personally*, but Ive been hearin dat hes a little worried, what with what happened *last* time you was out alone..." Swindle had spent hours forcing Brawl to memorize a dozen leading lines. "Last time? Hey, that little runt got the drop on me, thats all..." "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say." "Hey! You tryin to tell me you dont believe me? I coulda took him out EASY if Id gotten a clean shot!" "Right, right. I aint sayin otherwise..." But his voice clearly betrayed his disbelief. "OK, thats IT!" With a sudden lurch, Long Haul transformed, his cargo of tritanium armor plate scattering across the road, some falling to the vast gulches to the sides, where the scavengers would have a field day. He then leapt onto Brawls back. Brawl bucked, firing his powerful bottom thrusters. Long Haul went careening off as Brawl, too, transformed. The Constructicon bounced once, twice, then skidded to the edge of the roadway as Brawl advanced on him... Too slow! Long Haul shifted back to vehicle mode and accelerated, preparing to ram... ..as Brawl leapt up, over and onto his back! Before Long Haul could stop, swerve, or transform, Brawl smashed *down*, hard, driving his fist through the roof of the vehicles forward section. Long Haul screamed in pain and began to skid out of control, as Brawl smashed down again and again. He had orders not to do more damage than was necessary, but the bloodlust was overtaking him.... Nearby, a data transmission tower, one of thousands lining the road, came to life. Arms extended from the transmission points as a head arose from the main tower. Legs formed as the central tower expanded. Soundwave wasted no time. "Slugfest, eject. Operation: Restraint." Slugfest was about the least useful of his children for this particular purpose, but the others were on assignment... Slugfests optics flickered as they adjusted to the light. His body resembled the upper half of a circle, resting on red treads. Along his back was a row of monomolecular blades, which began to vibrate fiercely. He could spread them, extend them, contract them -- making close contact with him was impossible even for the most heavily armored. His head, a tiny cone pitted with sensors, seemed incongruous on the bulk of his body. He saw the battle in front of him. Restraint? Whatever. Ill bet theyre fighting about me, he thought, as he lumbered into the fray. ENEMY--DESTROY! ENEMY--DESTROY! Brawls primary behavior modules were dominating all aspects of his intellect. Subprocesses devoted to restraint, caution, self-preservation, etc., were being given no priority at all. Long Haul, meanwhile, was barely functional. His body had gone into virtual shutdown, with all resources being devoted to preserving his laser-core -- the essence of his existence as a being, not a machine. Slugfests plan was simple. Separate the combatants, then hit Brawl until Brawl stopped moving. He communicated as much to Soundwave, who appeared to impassively observing but was, in fact, calling in any other Decepticons in the immediate area. A little inter-faction squabbling was expected, even condoned -- but Brawl was on the verge of rendering Long Haul permanently dysfunctional, and THAT was going too far. The first wave of missiles blasted Brawl and the unconscious Long Haul apart. Shrapnel tore at Brawl's armor, doing little damage, but one spike landed in an exposed joint. Pain shot through one leg, and Brawl turned to acknowledge the new threat. NEW ENEMY -- REDIRECT OFFENSE! Brawl turned as the missiles exploded around him. There was a yellow robot heading towards him, and the blur of the blades on his back spelled trouble. As he watched, the blades extended and spread out, giving the new enemy a deadly defense. But if he didnt close, the missiles would keep pounding him....as instinctual responses failed, higher level processes came back on-line...and Brawl suddenly realized where he was, what he was doing...and how much trouble he was in. "Hey! Hold it! Its OK!" Soundwave sent a rapid command to Slugfest to hold. Thundercracker and Dirge would be arriving in seconds, anyway. Then the matter would be resolved by a quick tribunal. **** The tribunal hall was mostly empty. This altercation was unlikely to end in an all-out battle, so there were few spectators. And Galvatron was away for a few days, overseeing some remote Decepticon brigades, so it was the dispassionate Shockwave who was running the show -- no fun there. "Due to this *unprovoked* assault by Brawl, one of MY team will be incapacitated for weeks -- and that will interfere with my plans! I demand that he be punished by dissolution!" Shockwave, serving as Judge, Jury, and likely Executioner, looked down at Hook. The cyclopean eye revealed nothing, neither dimming nor brightening, and the hexagonal face showed no expression at all. "Your entreaty has been noted. Your request is considered valid." "Wait! I demand the right to speak in defense of *my* subordinate." "Affirmed, Commander Onslaught. You may proceed." Onslaught nodded, then gestured to his right. "I hereby appoint Swindle to state my case for me." "Uhm...yes. Now then...Hook, of the Constructions, called the assault unprovoked. I would like to request Soundwave, who was present, to replay the exact sequence leading up to the incident in question." Soundwaves presence along the chosen route had been known to all of the Combaticons *except* Brawl. Onslaught had planned this little trick well. Soundwave did as requested. A holographic image formed, replaying the minutes leading up to the brawl. As Hook watched in dismay, it became more and more apparent that, not only did Long Haul strike the first blow, but that Brawl had said nothing particularly offensive -- just the standard teasing which was par for the course among all soldiers. Long Hauls own temper had sparked the fight. "As you can see," Swindle continued, "my comrade is wholly blameless in this instance. Now, it is true he defended himself with perhaps a bit too much vigor -- but I would refer you to the incident of Starscream vs. Firecloud, a situation which mirrors this in degree and..." "Further speech is wasteful. I have reached a decision. Onslaught, you sent a member of your team on a mission without proper authorization. You will serve three shifts of patrol duty in the Sewage Swamps. Brawl, you have seriously damaged a fellow Decepticon. You will suffer a 1-grade demotion and 1/4 reduction in Energon rations for the next week. That is all." "WHAT?!" Hook strode forward. "A minor grade reduction and a trivial punishment detail? Long Haul is nearly destroyed! It will be weeks before he is even capable of limited function, longer still before he will be fully repaired!" "I am Galvatrons voice in matters of internal dispute. Do you care to appeal my decision to HIM?" Hook stepped back, his voice quiet in defeat. "No." "Then I declare this tribunal ended." *** In Onslaughts quarters, considerably more spacious than those of his subordinates, the five Combaticons engaged in a rare moment of camaraderie. "Hey! We did it!" "Indeed, Swindle. Perhaps you arent as useless as I thought." "Thanks a LOT, Blast-Off." "What about me? Im da one what got pummeled on!" "You have all performed admirably, my soldiers. Tomorrow, Bruticus will be summoned for another round of combat practice. Now that there is no possibility of Devastator being formed, we should have no meaningful opposition. Tonight, though...I am going to be wading up to my optics in toxic sludge." He glared down at Swindle, who just shrugged. "Look, I did my best..." **** Elsewhere... The monitor glowed brightly. It used a different frequency than the ones Galvatron routinely employed, the ones which Swindle had found trivial to block. "Look, Starscream! We need to warn Galva...no. We dont. But what do we do?" "Simple, Megablast. We let them go. This is just what I hoped would happen." And Starscream laughed, for a long time... End Chapter Four Evolution Doesn't Take Prisoners:Lizard Cease then to fashion state-made sin, And give not your children cause to doubt That virtue springs from iron within -- Not lead without:Kipling