Chapter 2: Chapter 2

The Diego Diaries: There (dd4 2)

-0-In the conference room in Ops Center, Autobot City, Primal Colony of Mars

"I would say … if you're following Infiltration Team Protocols to the degree you usually do that you're taking humans for their DNA so you can make facsimile avatars from them. You're replacing the ones you take with drone representatives that do Arachnid's bidding. Then you kill the humans you have in custody … innocent individuals that didn't do a damned thing to anyone but be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Is that close?" Ratchet asked with a hard cold grin on his face.

The mech stared at Ratchet without comment, then glanced at Prime. "If I were to tell you what happens to me then? I don't owe anything to Arachnid."

"You will be placed in the prison until such time as you demonstrate without the smallest deviation a total change of spark," Optimus Prime said. "Until then you stay in the prison with the others."

"Doesn't sound like a good deal," he said with a shrug.

"Then we can give you back to Arachnid with a note thanking you for helping us out so much," Prowl said. "We can tell her that you deserve a promotion for being such a support to our campaign to eradicate her."

The 'Con glanced at him sharply. "You wouldn't do that." He looked at Prime. "You have the Matrix. It wouldn't allow that."

Prowl snorted, then glanced at Prime with a tight grin. "Now they get religion."

Optimus nodded. "Its remarkable isn't it."

The mech shifted. "The Matrix won't allow it."

"Since when do you care about the Matrix, slagger? Since when did you find that matters? When you were killing civilians back home? When you took an innocent organic to give her to Arachnid?" Ratchet asked with cold fury. "*Now you get religion*?"

He shifted, then looked at Prime. "Prison? No execution?"

"You have me confused with Megatron," Optimus replied with a cold fury of his own.

The mech sat silently before them, the thinking process he was going through completely transparent on his face. He sat in a mix of cold visages, Autobots of reputation who would tear him into confetti without much provocation. As he did the calculations came out to the same answer each time. He nodded. "Alright."

"Talk then," Prowl said.

"Arachnid is in charge of the mission now," he said. "There has been no direction from Megatron or Shockwave." He glanced at Starscream. "Even your communications stopped after a while."

"Unlucky you," Starscream purred.

The mech looked at Prime. "There are rules for what we do. One of the rules is make facsimile avatars. That's what this was about. I was given an order and I carried it out."

"Where are you located when you aren't killing organics?" Ironhide asked.

"That continent … they call it Australia. Out in the desert. There's a huge rock out there, Ayers Rock. That's where we are."

"Are you with Insecticons or are you a different group?" Ratchet asked.

"Different. No one can work with the fragging bugs. Those fraggers are scum. Ignorant stupid scum," he said with the usual 'esprit d' corps' that made Decepticon unity impossible in the ranks. "We are the Cybertronians. The bugs are with Arachnid."

"How many?" Prowl asked.

"Lots. No one told me the number. Lots of them. She runs them. She was control of the operation. We were to overtake the planet, then prepare it for the phase sixers. No one made the activation call so we waited in stasis." He sat back in the chair glancing at Prime. "I can't tell you where they are because we're sent compartmentalized in case one of us gets compromised."

"Convenient for you," Ratchet said.

"Isn't it," he replied with a smirk. "Megatron's rules, not mine. I know that she has them in a number of places. You never centrally locate your troops on these missions. Even stupid organics get lucky sometimes."

"Where were you supposed to take her?" Ratchet asked.

"Into the mountains," he replied. "I was to take her there and leave her. They would come get her."

"Locate it," Prowl said sliding a datapad toward him.

He looked at it, then complied. Sitting back, he looked at Prime. "What now?"

"The coordinates in Australia. I also want to know how you got from there to here," Prime replied.

"I drove to Sydney and got onto a cargo ship as a vehicle heading for San Francisco. I was planning to go back the same way but I imagine that Arachnid probably figures this is fragged. I missed the drop time by a mile," he said.

"You missed it by at least *forever*," Ratchet said shaking his helm.

The mech glared at Ratchet, then sat back. "I got nothing more."

"No one here is surprised," Jetta said. "Low level lackey. What would you know that matters?" he asked with a slight smirk.

The mech looked at Jetta with a furious expression. "Frag you, Autobot. We were here forever and you didn't know. You told them that you had the system buttoned up but you missed us."

Jetta leaned forward fixing his gaze on the mech. "We got you, fragger. You will never see a free orn again."

He looked at Jetta, then leaped up. Jetta stood up as well just as Springer grabbed the 'Con by the shoulders. Shoving him down into his chair, Springer stepped back warily. "Frag you, Autobot," he said acidly.

"You still go to prison and never get out. Hold anything back and we'll take you apart for spare parts," Jetta said as he sat back in his chair. "You have nothing else. Its not much altogether. We already figured it out."

"Sixshot was designated for this planet," the mech said with a grin of his own. "That fragger will come and you will all be sorry."

"No we won't," Prowl said quietly. "We will put him into deep storage with Shockwave and Overlord."

He looked at Prowl for a moment, then grinned. "If I believe you then its great. If I don't believe you then it still is great. Either way I am entertained." He looked at Ratchet. "You don't mind if I use your remark."

"I don't. I do think it would be justice to put you in with Motormaster and his siblings," Ratchet said with a smirk of his own.

"You have the Stunticons? You've been busy," he said in reply.

"You have no idea. Bag him," Prowl said glancing at Springer.

Ratchet glanced at the mech taking in his measure. "What's your designation?"

He grinned. "A37 but you can call me sir." His laugh was guttural and harsh, completely devoid of humor.

Springer along with Drift grabbed the 'Con none too gently, nearly lifting him off his aft. They turned, then left. It was quiet a moment as they considered what he said. Ratchet turned to Prime. "This is fragged. He gave us a location in Australia at least so I suppose its not a lost cause. I would however find a way to protect the humans among us against further acquisition by Arachnid."

"What if she already has?" Prowl asked, speaking aloud what no one wanted to consider.

"How can they be detected?" Prime asked Ratchet.

"They can't be," Ratchet replied grimly. He looked at Jetta and Jazz. "Go through Shockwave's databanks. This is his slag. Find out if there are any flaws in his mania here. I don't believe there will be. We just have to be careful that anyone here doesn't go home and those that come here from now on are watched. I would also start looking through missing person reports on Earth. Remember that congressman? He said people were disappearing. We can begin with the ones that disappeared under strange circumstances, then came back just as strangely."

Prime nodded. "I concur."

It was a grim group that broke to go elsewhere.

-0-On a Skype hook up to Earth with the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York, USA, Earth while a broadcast on the IntraComm played softly on a monitor nearby showing split screen human coverage of the event at servo

They sat in a group, several of the artists involved in the exchange with Earth. Their works had made it to New York on an Autobot transport to be met with armored cars from Brinks. They carried the large exhibit in their packing crates through the streets, something that was deemed worthy of LATEST BREAKING NEWS! status on most of the networks. Interviews with the humans involved including Warren Roberts who was Autobot Nation's agent on Earth were being had.

"What can we expect to see, Mr. Roberts?"

"What you can expect," Warren said, "is a cross section of the art and artistry of Cybertronians from all over their planet. There is glassware of all manner of types, weavings and tapestries that showcase their culture and history as well as sculpture and paintings. There will also be something that might surprise humans as well. There are two artists on Mars that are the foremost practitioners of their particular skill, widely regarded as the best Cybertron ever produced. They had created weapons and tools that were shown in museums on Cybertron utilizing processes that they created and made with skill only they are said to possess. I am looking forward to them myself."

"Will the artists come to Earth?" the reporter asked.

"There are art students and artists here that are micro mini-con size who will be handling the works as they are placed on display. They are our size and shorter. They can walk around in the buildings without requiring special adaptations. They are in contact with the artists on Mars right now as they begin to set things up. That is about the only way this can be done as the artists involved minus one or two are all too tall."

"What are the artists trying to convey with this show about themselves and their art?"

"They are trying to convey to humanity their love for their culture, their people and their accomplishments. They are proud of all of it. They want you to see this and understand them more. They are metallic people but they aren't machines. They are educated, cultured and artistic. They are more than what most of us understand and I'm personally ecstatic that they can share this part of themselves with Earth. We know them as warriors and as aliens. Now lets come to understand them as artists, as the inheritors of an ancient culture filled with wonders."

"Yeah, fraggers," Sunstreaker murmured.

Sadee leaned into him slipping her arm through his. "This is the greatest, Sunstreaker. We're in the Met."

Sunstreaker glanced down at her and grinned. "Yeah. They owe us one don't they."

Everyone sitting with them laughed. Sunstreaker on the other servo meant every word he said.

-0-Prison

He walked between two guards as they left the Fortress heading for the clink nearby. He marveled at the city and all that was going on around him. "You've been busy."

"This?" Springer said with a shrug. "Its just the stuff we do when we aren't busy."

A37 snorted, then laughed with some semblance of humor in the tone. "Really? We watch stuff when it comes to Earth over the MCA hook up. Who in their right processor could imagine Praxus Science winning anything let alone the championship?"

Drift chuckled. "Miracles happen. Look around. It's instructive."

"Yeah, I suppose you would know, Dead Lock," A37 said with a small degree of malicious glee. "Who do you have in the Stunticons?"

"All of them are there but Breakdown. He isn't a complete dumb aft like the others," Springer said as they turned down the road to the Prison Center. "What about you? Are you a dumb aft?"

"When it suits me. What can I say?" he asked with a slight shrug. "I like to fight."

"Then you came to the right prison. You will have to wait a little bit for them to come to your cell block. They had to be put into ad-seg for fighting," Drift said with a grin.

"Frag. I'm going to paradise," A37 said with a chuckle.

They entered the Prison Center to go through the procedure of adding another first class fragger to the database. He wouldn't be the last.

-0-TBC 4-20-14 edited 8-14-15