The Diego Diaries: Chaos 11
=0=Near the conference room in Ops Center
Ratchet stood outside watching through the walls as Blackstone sat with Copperton and Turquoise explaining the charges against their son and what he was prepared to do in defense. Holding both mechs servos, Chevron sat between them listening as well. He would remain with them throughout the ordeal and beyond it offering them solace and comfort. Once taking on a situation, a priest would follow it to the bitter end.
Burnoff was out of the room, taken to the brig at some point in the conversation with Copperton in Prime's office. He was sitting in the brig awaiting a decision that would affect his life forever. It was sad, infuriating and complicated. This sort of thing was difficult for Ratchet who had a habit of seeing both sides of a situation. As a doctor, he was inclined to be that way having his views abetted by the cold reality that he usually was the only mental health medic on the scene of wherever they were and that things seldom turned out to be totally black and white.
This was a youngling mech just past the cusp of school age. If he were human, he would be about eighteen or nineteen years of age. His processor because of his youth was not fully developed so that according to the mental health classes he had attended and the school of hard knocks he had graduated, it was sometimes not in the realm of possibility and reality to expect a mech his age to think through things very well. Emotions were more easily accessed in their processors than logic and reason so they often were the driving force behind dangerous and highly stupid actions. Human infants driving drunk, texting, fighting, setting homeless people on fire and doing other highly dangerous stupid activities were mere examples. Being barely above the waterline of childhood, bobbing rather cluelessly in the sea of endless adulthood, sometimes child-adults didn't do things according to smart thinking.
That felt the same way now. To expect some immature youngling to be able to do good critical thinking, especially those raised in a bubble like too many high caste mechs and femmes he had met and attended to professionally often ended this way in his experience. Genitors usually were in denial, filled with anger or rarely, even intense guilt. Younglings were dumbfounded that they had feelings other than what they thought they would have once the deed was done. Instead of power, satisfaction and arrogance, they felt regret, remorse and fear. He had seen it over and over. Part of his job in Iacon was to intercede in the ruinous actions of the younglings of high caste officials and army officers. This was not his first catastrophic moment of high caste reckoning. With luck, it would be his last.
Footfalls nearby sounded and Ratchet turned. "Hi, Jarro. We have a situation." They stood together talking and arranging the first of several mental health evaluations for a dazed and frightened youngling mech in the brig. Ratchet would also set up appointments for his terrified and utterly crushed genitors.
-0-El Segundo Air Force Base, California
They stood on the tarmac all of them nearly trembling with excitement. There would be ten leaving, three of them the director/writer, producer and head of cinematography. The others would be camera crews and technicians, all of them chosen for their guts, skill and ability to be proficient in more than one needed task.
Jack Mellar saw it first, the gleaming ship slowly coming down through the sky. "Hey! Here it comes!"
Cosmos himself a gleaming white shuttle with a glorious Autobrand on his side slipped through the atmosphere and landed within twenty feet of where they stood. It appeared to those on the ground that he just sat down and he essentially did. A slightly goofy nerd, Cosmos has taken to setting down without using the length of a runway. He enjoyed watching the expressions on those who saw that he didn't require runway to stop.
The humans on Diego Garcia were used to this. They were more likely to climb on board and swap gossip than to admire the skill it took to land a bot his size nearly at standstill. So he showed his quality to others making impossibly wonderful landings and soaking up the attention given to him for it. It made his nebbish slightly off beat day.
An air force ground crew walked up and began to take up their stuff. They took some themselves and followed a sargent to the ship. Walking up the ramp, they entered and were instructed where to sit and what to do when they arrived on Mars. N.E.S.T. soldiers were going with them to help with the filming and three who were there now helped them into their gear. It was waiting for them here and they would receive instruction beyond what they had been given already to impress upon them the two cardinal rules: 1. Don't go out without someone checking your rig, seeing if the internal display read green for all clear. 2. If you could not be sure that all was go, then you didn't. Nothing you would miss going outside was worth a short brutish death in the uncompromisingly harsh world of Mars.
They would also review all the rules and training they had already received from N.E.S.T. and Warren Robert's office. That worthy and his staff were already on Mars having their monthly update, coordinated catch up and poker games with the City Hall staff and various friends in the hierarchy. They would also living in the dedicated housing unit at the top of a tower in the Mare Tranquilitatis. They would have their own rooms in a complex that shared all chores and communal living spaces. Word was given to claim a room right away. The rooms already claimed would have names on the doors. Special emphasis was given to leave the living spaces of the soldier femmes and other humans who went to Mars routinely strictly alone.
When the ramp came up and the hatch closed they were in gear, buckled into their seats and staring at each other with an almost ill happiness. When Cosmos cleared the ground and made his way into the darkness of space some of them looked sick to their stomachs. A soft green light went through the hold as Cosmos detected that condition, scanning them. Then he spoke. "If you are going to throw up do it in the bags under your seats." It was a slightly nerdy voice, young and intense.
"Are you Cosmos?" Jack Mellar asked pulling a bag out from under his seat.
"I am. You are Jack Mellar. I was wondering something."
"What is that, Cosmos?" Jack asked as he held the bag next to his mouth. His excitement had begun to collect in his gut. It would be a miracle if he made it to the next planet without puking.
"Why don't you have any aerial mechs in your movie?" Cosmos asked just as half the passengers threw up in their sacks.
-0-On the street of the Metroplex District
They walked to their homes, some of them just coming back. The elderly had been organized and assisted not only by their families but by members of unions and guilds who had taken time to come by off shift to assist. The temper of the district was one of relief and anxiety. The fact that Metroplex had been harmed was bothersome to a high degree to many. Home was eagerly embraced and many stayed in recovering from a terrible scare and a few orns berthed wherever around town.
Ramcharger and his partner walked toward the Fortress, their home in order, game boards in arms. They had held court in the Fortress courtyard since they arrived and were a much beloved fixture there. It had been distracting to the nth degree to have this happen and Rampage especially felt the hit. His ada, a tiny ancient femme who had worked hard all her life had been harmed by the upset. He had made sure she rested in the hospital and when all was over he had taken her to his apartment in Vos Tower settling her back into her life.
As one of the oldest femmes around who was not an Autobot warrior of Elita-1 and Arcee's venerable age, she spent her orns enjoying 'her shows' on IntraComm, teaching several Cybertronian craft skills of which she was probably the last practitioner known to eager younger bots and telling her story to the archivists from the Museum's Talking History Project. She was back in her element, feeling pretty good and happy to be home. He himself was headed for the courtyard and table 2. There he and his partner would sit, canes nearby in case battle called. They would play and chat until evening came.
All would be well in their world.
-0-Arriving in Autobot City, Mars
They landed softly, the hatch and door moved appropriately. The group inside had attached their face masks and double checked with themselves and the three N.E.S.T. soldiers. They gathered their gear and lined up. Stepping out, Jack Mellar had pride of place in stepping down first. He was the mind behind the project and everyone conceded this honor to him.
They paused and looked around. The sky was bright and the city looked the same as before. They had no idea that Metroplex who sat gleaning in the sun had been injured and missing from action for several orns. They just knew they were on Mars, the city and its activity was astonishing and if they died right now they were ahead of the game.
Standing nearby watching, Jessie Landon who over for the weekend and Will Lennox watched with bemusement. "Hey." They all looked toward the two. "Do you have all your gear off Cosmos?" Lennox asked.
They looked at each other and nodded, turning toward him. "We do," Mellar said nodding.
"Good. Come with me. I'm Will Lennox and this is Jessie Landon. We will take you to the habitat and get you settled in. Then we will give you the lecture and tour. Understand?"
They all nodded. "What about our other gear?" a crewman said watching as a bot put their things into a metal box he held in his servo. Their gear looked like toys in his servo.
"They'll bring it. Come on. It's a long walk to Mare Tranquilitatis," Lennox said as he turned with Jessie and began to leave.
The humans gathered their things and hurried to go. One of them paused and looked back at their transport. "Thank you, Cosmos," Jennie Abbott said to no one in particular.
A smile seemed to greet her and a voice replied. "Thank you, Jennie Abbott."
She smiled and turned running to catch up with the others. Cosmos watched her go before transforming then walking to the hangars beyond.
-0-In a classroom in the Youngling Day School
Sunspot sat working through the math problems before him. He had to figure out the circumference of Mars, some distances from Autobot City to various landmarks on the planet and some formulas that required memorization. Silverbow who was his study-buddy sat with him, the two working out the algorithms together. Math wasn't Silverbow's forte. She was artistic, rather creative in her writing and a strong reader. Spelling was her best academic area. Sunspot on the other hand was great at math, could write very creatively but struggled sometimes with reading. They were perfect partners in education for each other.
Sitting nearby working on a science project involving the identification of a tray of Martian rocks, Spirit and T-Bar worked together. They were science fiends and excelled in anything servos on. Building, taking apart, digging in the dirt to find strata or rocks was something they excelled in. When Beachcomber had come to the room to demonstrate a selection of strange minerals including diamonds bigger than his fist, they were in bliss.
Spinner sat in a group nearby reading as an enraptured Muster listened. A youngling studying to be a teacher, the mech spent half his day with his mentor teacher, Mr. Terradive learning the ins and outs of teaching infants with deficits. He was determined to become a special education teacher and work with the downest of the out. It was like a religion to him. They were reading Harry Potter together.
"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light."
Muster smiled and nodded. "What do you think Dumbledore means, Spinner?"
She looked up at him and thought a moment. "I'm not sure. I think he means that goodness can happen if you look around. When we came here I was so afraid. I was sick and so were my genitors. I didn't think we could ever be happy again. But now I am. I get to come to school. My genitors like their jobs and our house is so nice. I am a goalie on my football team and we are having fun. I think I can see good things now."
Muster looked at her and nodded. "I'm glad, infant," he said around his emotion. "Let's keep reading. Then we can let Kip start at the bottom of the page. Alright, Kip?"
She smiled at him, the smallest infant in the room. Nodding, she grinned happily at Spinner, her best friend. "I get to read after you," she said with excitement.
Spinner smiled gigantically. "I know. This is fun!"
The others in the tiny group nodded happily and Spinner continued onward. Muster sat with enormous pride and love for his little students, a universal feeling of teachers in every universe in every dimension everywhere.
=0=TBC
2012 (9) I noticed something odd with this computer, my tiny little Acer. When I type the cursor sometimes jumps around. If you see a letter sitting on the end of a word or some place where it doesn't belong, that is why. Technology really doesn't like me. :D :D :D