The Chronicles of Orion: Part Eight

=0=Later that night, Christmas Surprise Night

They sat on the floor, Orion in his 'fort', underneath the table, his brother nearby. Praxus lay on the floor near the chair where Ironhide sat watching the news from Earth. He was lying on his new present, a pillow shaped like the head of a panda bear. He was looking up at the ceiling and examining the silouette of Ironhide's big ped which was propped on the little table before him. Praxus flapped his arms and tried to speak, failing to make much noise. He wanted Ironhide's ped.

Badly.

Orion, sitting under the table with all his dollies including his new one, a dollie of Smokey the Bear sent from Earth played sweetly. He held it in his servos as he watched Praxus. His optics strayed to Ironhide who was grousing about the bad coverage being dumped on the Autobots by the press. Ratchet was in the bedrooms sorting through the slag and putting things away. There were mementos now that had to be saved such as the little gold and blue bags the toys came in and pictures to be downloaded into the family album space each individual was given on Teletraan III. Ratchet peeked out of the sparkling room. "What are you going on about, Ironhide?"

"We're getting slagged in the press," he replied.

"Give it a while. We'll fix it," Ratchet said pausing to stare at the sparklings. "You have fans."

Ironhide looked down and rubbed Praxus's tummy. The infant smiled and waved his arms and legs. Glancing at Orion who sat smiling back at him he grinned. "I see that." Sitting back he relaxed and changed the channel. The Military channel was showing some horrendous thing or the other and Ironhide settled into his favorite pasttime, critiquing war and warriors.

Ratchet grinned and walked back to what he was doing. Sunspot was at the Prime's Residence playing with the little mechs. They all had received a toy that was military in design and the need to play was overpowering. Hopping home, chatting about the party and Sunstreaker and 'Mr. Terradive was so nice' and everyone was so fun and 'wasn't Santa Prime awesome?', he had asked for and gotten permission to go back and play after his homework was over.

The sparklings watched him go, Orion tweeting for him to come back and then both settled into their own games. Right now, Orion was fixed upon the figure of his little brother. Sitting in the shelter of his 'fort', he planned his own campaign. Operation Hug Praxus was born.

=0=Prime's Residence

They sat on the floor of the little mechs' bedroom and played with their toys. Sunspot got a fighter jet that was Starscream's alt mode during his hayday on Earth. Spirit had an aircraft carrier, a miniature of the USS Enterprise. T-Bar sported a hummer equipped with a machine gun mounted on top and Rambler had a stealth bomber. They played away defeating the Decepticons with each sweep of their toys.

Prowl, leaning on the doorjamb unobtrusively watched with a grin. The little mechs were completely comfortable with each other and they played very well. Turning, walking back to the table in the formal dining room, he sat and began to work on the multiple problems they had facing them. The next wave of refugees were one orn away from the solar well and the fleet had been dispatched the night before. They would journey in surrounded by ships bristling with guns and soldiers, Seekers flying escort. That would be the plan from now on.

What interested Prowl the most was what was coming behind them.

=0=In the bosom of love

Orion watched Praxus after a thorough exploration of the place where his infant armor came together in a 'bellybutton'. Looking up, he considered how he would have to move to get to the little sparkling who looked lonely lying on the floor. It would take the usual gut busting, roll forward one step, roll sideways four, infuriating, agonized maneuver that it always did. He was up to it. He had a Smokey the Bear dollie.

With a fixed optic on the honeypot he wanted more than anything else, Orion the Pooh began the excrutiating rambling move to the promised land.

=0=Ten minutes later

Ironhide watched as Orion made his way. The tiny but plucky infant had scooted out from under the table with great effort and as he sat getting his bearings it was clear the sparkling was considering the distance.

Five feet.

In sparkling logistics five feet equaled two and a half miles. Getting his bearings and his gumption up, he lay down and rolled. That is, he tried. He nearly made a roll then paused as he rolled over on his back again. Trying several times he landed on his belly at last.

He grinned.

Looking at Praxus, he began again trying to roll over onto his back. He did. Then he looked at where he was landed. He was going back under the table again.

He frowned.

Ironhide smirked. This was better than the television. Little mech was having a tough time navigating tough terrain. Ironhide would never look at flat surfaces in the same way. Quashing a chuckle, quashing the urge to help Orion, Ironhide watched him some more.

Orion rolled over at last and when he lay a moment on his back he moved again. He landed at last on his tummy. Glancing over his shoulder at Praxus, he smiled.

Then Ratchet walked into the room.

Orion put his helm down and pretended to be asleep. Ratchet, spotting him grinned. Then he took slag off the table and walked into his own room. Orion, peeking to see if the coast was clear smiled. Then he continued to roll. Laboriously, with great effort and a focus that made his dear old dad proud he continued onward.

Praxus, oblivious to all things continued to focus on his digits. Putting one in his mouth, he smiled. It tasted good. So he tried to put the other four in too.

Ironhide, his optics roving between the two of them missed a lengthy explanation of the seeming invincibility of the Maginot Line. This was that much more fun.

Orion, staring at the floor mesmerized with the weave of the rug paused a moment as he stared directly down. He patted the floor smiling at it. Then he began again. Rolling laboriously he made his way.

Right past Praxus.

=0=At the Prime's Residence

They sat together eating a cookie from the bakery in the archade and sipping heated energon tea. It was fun sitting under the tent they had constructed in the bedroom. Prowl had provided the blankets and forced himself to leave the room and observe from afar as they worked out the logistics of putting up a tent inside. Taking snapshots for Optimus when he returned from a conference call to Earth, Prowl smiled. This was the life.

One he never even knew he wanted.

=0=Back in the Bosom of Love

Ironhide stifled a chuckle as he watched Orion try and figure out his predicament. He had passed by Praxus and was on the other side wedged against the wall that led to the hallway that fed into the rest of the apartment. He fluttered madly, legs and one arm akimbo and then relaxed.

He was stuck.

Ironhide considered the sparkling's predicament and ran through a number of scenarios of rescue discarding all of them because Orion might be distracted and not finish his goal. It was simply too entertaining to interrupt.

Orion considered his problem and then flung himself backwards rolling nearly twice before stopping against the couch. Fearing a repeat of another foray that had ended up UNDER a couch he paused and looked around. Pushing upward with his little arms, he scanned all around himself. With a smile he looked at Praxus. The little sparkling saw him and smiled too.

That was all he needed.

Laying down and flapping his arms and legs, Orion paused for a moment. Then he remembered that flapping meant no movement and rolling did. With a flourish and all his considerable strength he began to roll toward his brother. By the fourth roll he was within striking range.

Grinning, chirping softly to get Praxus's attention, he toiled a moment ending up on his servos and knees. Rocking, expecting forward movement he paused again. Then Orion pushed forward planting his face into the ground.

Ironhide had a laugh fit in his helm.

Ratchet paused and listened. The television was playing, there was no sound. "Ironhide?"

For a moment there was no answer. "What?"

"What's going on out there?"

"Nothing. Watching some war or other."

"Okay," Ratchet said moving back to the task at hand, making up the beds for the infants' recharge.

Ironhide looked at Orion who had paused and faked recharge. When it was quiet again the little mech lifted up his helm and smiled broadly at his brother. Praxus, fixated on Orion smiled broadly too. Flapping his arms and legs, Praxus tried to speak to Orion. All that came out was blather. Orion chuckled deeply at the funny sparkling and began to rise up on his knees and servos. Carefully, laboriously, he began to eke his way forward.

For a moment it was still, both of them mesmerized by Orion and then the door to the sparkling room opened. Just as Orion reached out to touch his brother Ratchet swooped in with a grin. Snatching up the little black and yellow sparkling, he kissed Orion's face. "Time for bed, sparkling!" Ratchet said and then the two of them disappeared into the sparkling room.

Ironhide had a fit in his processor.

Praxus didn't have a clue.

=0=Ten minutes later minus a pair of sparklings

"You didn't call me out?"

"Ratchet … I knew if you came Orion would stop his march."

"You are a fragger, Ironhide!"

"You love me."

"DO YOU THINK SO!"

Pause.

"You do."

The door opened at that moment and Sunspot arrived with his toy. Grinning at his genitors who were faced off glaring at each other, he walked in and hugged Ratchet's legs. "Hi, Ada. I had so much fun today."

Ratchet and Ironhide melting at Sunspot's happiness grinned and nodded to Prowl who turned and walked out closing the door behind him. "Did you have dinner?" Ratchet asked.

"I did. We made a tent and had cookies and tea. I loved today. It was so fun and Sunstreaker gave us a party with other genitors."

"He did?" Ratchet asked picking up the little Seeker and kissing him.

"He did," Sunspot said leaning into Ratchet. "I think I'm tired."

"Then Atar will put you to bed," Ratchet said with a gimlet optic.

"Tell me something hard to do," Ironhide said taking the little mech. They walked away and into Sunspot's room.

Ratchet watched him go and turned walking into the sparklings' room. Praxus was halfway to recharge and Orion was sitting up, his blue optics bright in the darkened room. Smiling, Ratchet leaned down and kissed his little helm. "Slagger," he whispered with a grin.

Orion only smiled.

=0=TBC

2012 (1)