Omega Trust Prosperity Programming
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Omega Trust was a fraudulentUS investment scheme in Illinois.
Clyde D. Hood is a former electrician from Mattoon, Illinois. In 1994 Hood formed Omega Trust and Trading Limited and began to lecture to church groups. He said that the Lord had given him a mission. He claimed that he was one of the international traders who could make secret multimillion-dollar deals to benefit humanitarian programs through debentures and 'prime bank notes' in foreign banks. Hood asked for an investment of $100 and promised a payout of $5,100 within 275 days. He wanted the money delivered wrapped in aluminum foil and via Federal Express because U.S. federal government was trying to block the trades through the United States Postal Service. Therefore the scheme should remain secret. Thousands of people from USA and overseas sent money.
Omega Trust Prosperity Programming Language
The program stopped accepting new investors in 1995. By that time, Hood had received more than $10 million. He began to present number of excuses as to why investors had not been paid, blaming administrative costs, problems with foreign banks and international financial conflicts. When some people still wanted to join, Hood and accomplices claimed that they could sell share units of people who had wanted to leave the program. The estimated total amount of money was $20 million.
In addition, Hood began new investment schemes named Alpha and Destiny and obtained more money from those who had invested to Omega. With the money Hood and his associates bought land and businesses in Mattoon, gave no-interest loans and made trips to Europe. Some of the money also went to finance businesses of other Hood associates like construction contractor Chris Engel.
Engel later cooperated with the police and let them tape a phone conversation with Hood. Hood lawyer Steve Ryan was also later removed from the case when he was subpoenaed as a witness and for possible collusion.
Clyde Hood and his 18 associates were indicted in 2000. Some of them pleaded guilty or were convicted of multiple counts of fraud, mail fraud, money laundering and filing a false tax return (see 26 U.S.C.§ 7206).
On April 10, 2001, Hood pleaded guilty to mail or wire fraud conspiracy, money laundering conspiracy, and filing a false tax return.[1]
On January 24, 2002 Hood was sentenced to prison for 14 years and was fined $5,000. Five of his associates were convicted of active participation of the scheme and were ordered to make restitution. Thirteen associates were convicted of money laundering. Three hundred fifty-five victims received restitution from forfeited Omega Trust funds to the total of $1,697,310.00.
The Omega Trust still lives on in the Internet as a supposed global poverty relief program (see NESARA).
Hood is imprisoned at the 'Federal Medical Center Devens,' north of Worcester, Massachusetts, and was scheduled for release in November 2012.
Chapter 14
Omega Supreme was happy. He had been meticulously repaired, and Ratchet had gotten the mechs on the repair crews to talk to him like he was a sentient being, and not merely dumb machinery. Ratchet and Arcee had worked out most of their issues, and the tension level onboard had lowered considerably. Bulkhead, Bee and Sari spent much of their time onboard, and Optimus Prime was visiting.
Unlike the trio of young bots, who came and engaged in endless multiplayer video games (almost always making a point of including Omega) the Prime tended to be serious. It was good to see him though, especially without the his shadow, the Decepticon leader. It made Ratchet happy, and Optimus was a nice mech. Brave, too. Omega could tell from the recorded video logs he had from when he was in stasis.
Optimus Prime always made a point of greeting Omega and holding at least a brief conversation with him every time he visited. Omega Supreme liked him. Most Primes weren't so polite to mechs beneath them in the military structure, much less those who were essentially large pieces of military hardware.
Now, he listened in on Ratchet's conversation with the young Prime.
'You look good on the spark scans' said Ratchet. 'A little strain, but that's only to be expected under the circumstances. It would probably be much worse if you weren't recharging with Megaton.'
The shrewd blue optics beneath the damaged red chevron watched his leader, waiting. After a short time duration, the Prime began to squirm. Ratchet stepped up his stare.
Predictably, Optimus gave in.
'We, uh, haven't been co-recharging Ratch.' He said awkwardly. 'He gets all anxious and angry when I'm close to him, and…'
Ratchet snorted loudly. 'That was when you first brought Tall, Dark and Gruesome home, Optimus. Now I'm sure he'd be happy to bed down with you. At least if I'm any judge, which I am, by the way. No mech could possibly think you had nefarious designs on them after this long in your company.'
Privately, Omega agreed. He did not trust many mecha other than Ratchet, but he would trust the Prime. It was too bad he didn't live on board Omega's structure with the others, but given that such an arrangement would mean Megatron was here too, it was probably just as well. That mech was a (what was Sari's word?) a jerk. Of epic proportions. Optimus Prime deserved better.
'The best way to make sure that the Decepticons aren't going to have their best sniper shoot you through the spark with nest time you're in the field is to have a nice, secure, and dare I say, snuggly bond with the Con.' Ratchet said severely. He put his servos on his hips and glared at his commander. 'Besides, his spark is going to be under much more strain than yours due to the programming, and he's not exactly young anymore. Do you want him to extinguish early because the two of you wouldn't share a room?'
If there was one thing Optimus Prime could not resist, it was a guilt trip. He looked alarmed at the prospect.
Omega Trust Prosperity Programming 2017
'No Ratchet.' He said meekly.
The medic added a bit more pressure. 'Taking cared of a bond slave is a major responsibility Optimus. You wouldn't want to mistreat him like his previous master did, after all.'
Optimus looked horrified. 'Of course not! I would never do something like that!'
There was a tiny ting sound as Ratched flicked him in the helm. 'Then take care of him. Whether he's happy about it or not. Its not like a little recharge is going to impugn his honor! Really Optimus, you're not a blushing virgin, and he's as far from that as its possible for a mech to be. It's only recharge, you're not eloping to Epsilon Five together. Take care of things. It will do you both good.'
The red blue and silver mech smiled ruefully, admitting defeat. 'Yes Ratchet'. He said.
Omega Supreme was glad that Optimus listened to Ratchet. The medic was wise and compassionate. That was one reason that Omega had made an important decision. He needed to tell his medic that he also had the slavery code, and that if there was any possibility of his being bound to a strange mech, he wanted his friend and mentor to be his master instead.
This was a private conversation, though, and he would wait until the young Prime had gone back to his own War Build bonded.
Maybe if Omega Supreme was very, very lucky, his Ratchet would share sparks with him like Optimus had with Megatron.
Megatron had, to his annoyance, been left in the apartment alone, and he was bored. He occupied his time as best he could with exploring interesting bits of the infonet. If nothing else, his captivity meant he was catching up on his reading. He only had a one-way connection, which allowed him to view information but not send any. His Prime was not a total fool, after all. Just very young.
Currently, he was perusing the data from the last Cybertronian census. He wondered if these population figures could possibly be right. Surely the number of mecha on Cybertron should not have become so reduced since the Decepticon Rebellion? No wonder the Autobots had such difficulty mounting an effective defense against his forces attacking their outlying space bridge facilities all at once.
Had it truly been so long since the Allspark had been available that so many Cybertronians had extinguished? Or perhaps they had relocated to other worlds and systems. Difficult to fathom, if that were the case. All of their kind felt the pull of their homeworld, the metal form of Primus.
His Decepticons sang songs of longing to their lost home, late in the cycle after a good party, or when they felt melancholy. They were beautiful and sad, the counterpoint to all their warlike tunes of conquest and battle.
For all that their exodus had meant their freedom and at least a minimal level of prosperity, his kind still missed their home world. It was hard to imagine giving Cybertron up without a very good reason. Like war and slavery.
He filed the information for later, with a mental note to discuss it with the old medic from his Prime's crew. The mech might have some insight to share, as he had been on planet (or at least based here) when all this was going on.
The Autobots must have been using stored sparks to create younglings like the Prime and his idiot sidekicks. Of course, with the Allspark back on Cybertron, they would be growing their numbers again.
In the meantime, he found a very old message board on an obscure site devoted to poetry, and searched for posts using names and codes from the days just prior to the war. Hopefully one of the elder Decepticons or one of the younger but more literate agents would remember it and get in contact.
'So, how are things going with you and Big, Pointy, and Malevolent?' Asked Jazz curiously.
'They're…all right.' Optimus replied slowly. 'Much better than I would have expected, honestly.'
The two of them were at Macadam's Old Oil House, having a cube of the reserve blend. Optimus was buying. He had been given a ridiculous bonus and a very generous salary when he returned with the Allspark, Omega, and a batch of Decepticons. Buying a few rounds seemed only reasonable under the circumstances, and it was nice to have a bit of a break from both Megatron and the paparazzi. Apparently they didn't notice him nearly as much if he wasn't flying around with a big, pointy escort. It was really nice to be just another truck bot for a change.
'Your little exhibition spar at HQ was pretty impressive, Opt. I don't know if I'd wanna step into the ring with the Slag-maker himself, 'specially in front of an audience.' Jazz said, giving him a look that clearly demanded insider information.
'Do you think the other Elite Guard officers will think badly of me since I didn't win?' Optimus asked. That had been worrying him a bit, actually.
'Ha, no. I thought half the mecha there were going to lubricate themselves when he looked at 'em. Nobody is gonna judge you any for not winning, especially since ya were able to hold your own against him for that long. Now, if ya had won, bots might start wonderin if ya had ordered him to throw the match…' the silvery mech answered.
Wait…what? 'I did beat him before, you know.' Optimus said reproachfully.
Jazz put his servos up and smiled disarmingly. 'Of course ya did' he said. 'But ya had a lot more room to move around, a team around ya, your jetpack, and the Magnus Hammer. Just you and a mech that much bigger than you in a training ring, you got waaay fewer options. Situation like that, you know how much things like reach and mass make a difference.'
'No mecha who have ever faced a real Decepticon will be anything but impressed, and the ones who haven't yet, they'll learn, dig?' Jazz grinned, a mischievous glint in the expression. 'If he can be trusted not to offline his sparring partners, you could probably move that learnin experience up on everyone's timetables, too.'
Optimus had an alarming mental image of Megatron and Sentinel in the sparring ring together and shuddered.
Dark was falling, the rays of their star making the lower atmosphere glow. Optimus had returned to his oversized apartment and his even more oversized housemate in good spirits, but Megatron seemed to be sulking a bit. The other side of the bond was decidedly grumpy. He probably didn't like being left behind.
Now it was time to recharge, and the Decepticon had retreated to his chamber in the apartment's master berthroom. Optimus took a deep, calming in-vent and entered after knocking politely. Scarlet optics looked up at him with mild surprise. The big, spiky mech was sprawled comfortably across the berth, an Autobot sized datapad looking undersized in his clawed servos.
He hoped this was going to go all right. He didn't like infringing on Megatron's personal space, but in this case it had to be done. He was just going to play it cool, as Jazz would say. Optimus sat on the edge of the berth, ignoring the tension in Megatron's frame and field. 'All right, shove over.' He said. He was keeping his body-language as matter of fact and non-threatening as possible, and hopefully Megatron knew him well enough by now to understand that he meant it.
'What….' Oooh, the slagmaker was at a loss for words. Optimus took a moment to savor such a rare occurrence. It wasn't often that he saw the older mech visibly surprised.
Optimus nudged him aside, and flopped down on the oversized master berth. It was nicer than the one he normally recharged in. Of course, his usual berth was by far the most comfortable he had ever encountered before now. 'Medic's orders.' He said calmly. 'I've been putting it off, but I think Ratchet's right, we really do need to recharge next to each other for a while to stabilize the bond. Don't worry, I don't vocalize during defrag.'
Megaton was gaping at him. It was kind of amusing, and much better than having him be angry and afraid that his master was joining him in the berth. 'What?' Optimus asked, his tone of voice filled with innocence. 'If we used one of the other rooms, one of us would probably end up falling off the berth.'
'Are you…You're serious.' Megatron had bolted upright when Optimus sat on the berth, and was staring down at his sprawled form, scarlet optics wide. He looked like he couldn't quite decide whether to be alarmed or pissed off.
'About recharging here? Of course.' Optimus answered calmly. 'I hope you don't kick or anything.' He supposed he shouldn't tease the mech, but it wasn't like Megatron didn't needle him like it was a professional sport.
The Decepticon commander sprang up from the berth like he was afraid of catching rust. Optimus actually felt a little offended. It wasn't like he smelled or anything, and he had thought they were past the whole 'evil Autobot slave master is going to abuse me at the first opportunity' thing. Seriously, did the grumpy old fragger have to be quite so prickly and paranoid?
And…there was the snarl. Oh good, he had been getting worried. He waited for the inevitable sarcastic remark.
'Despite rumors to the contrary, I do not sleep with Autobots. The warlord said coolly. I prefer my berthmates a little less…delicate.'
Well, that was much less cutting than he was expecting. Optimus saw Megaton's optics stray towards the door to the room. 'And a little more experienced.'
Ouch. There it was. Optimus responded in kind. After all, he wanted to put is Decpticon at ease, and for some reason, the way to do that seemed to be with snark. 'What makes you think I'm inexperienced?' he asked, smiling innocently up at the other mech.
Optical guard ridges went up. 'If telling another to 'shove over' is how you normally enter a berth you're sharing, you must be, because that is hardly the sort of line a mech of experience would use. Now, if you'll excuse me, I shall recharge on the couch.'
Optimus sighed. So much for doing this with a minimum of drama or power plays. 'Stay.' His order was soft. 'We're just going to recharge, nothing more. Now, come back to the berth. I'd like to get a solid defragmentation in tonight.' With that, Optimus relaxed across the (very comfortable) sleeping pad and set his optics to stealth mode. He was a little curious about his reluctant roommate's reaction. It would probably say a lot about how their adjustment to coexistence was progressing.
There was a muted grumble. Slowly, reluctantly, Megaton lay down beside him, the dense, spiky armor like a distant mountain range in the darkness. Optimus took a moment to analyze the older mech's fields and the bond for negative emotions, and was pleased that he only felt annoyance and a fairly mild unease. He let himself drift into recharge, knowing that his unwilling guest wouldn't do the same if he were awake. Normal. He was going to keep acting like things were normal, and hopefully they'd eventually become so.
He hoped the Decepticon didn't toss in recharge.