The Diego Diaries: Visitin' (dd8 167)
=0=Command Center in City 4
They sat on opposite sides of the command table glaring silently at each other as Prime walked in, then slowed as he hit the murky swamp of bad energy permeating the room. Pulling out a chair, he sat down beside Prowl who was smirking with a bright aura of amusement. "I can assume something untoward happened here?" he asked Prowl.
Prowl grinned.
Prime glanced at an array of highly amused elders, then two miscreant children of a lesser god. "You do not look happy, Ratchet," he said with a hint of amusement.
Ratchet glanced at him, then replied.
In his battlefield voice.
The one that could knock down a human at fifty feet.
"*****NO!*****"
The room actually seemed to vibrate as Prime sat facing Ratchet with his optics off lined. He onlined them then glanced at the others who were vibrating from the intensity of Ratchet's voice. "Uh … there is a story here and its about Docker. Right?" He glanced sharply at Ratchet. "You do not have to answer," he said hastily.
Ratchet sat back in his chair. "He had *ONE* job, *ONE*. We divided the chores. I got the kids and apartment ready and he took care of all the paperwork and the reminders and slag because it was simpler and he was ARMING THE SHIPS AND SHIT! ONE JOB! I DID THE HEAVY LIFTING BECAUSE HE WAS AT THE ARMORY AND SLAG! THAT ONE!"
Ironhide glared at Ratchet, then Prime who was failing to stifle a guffaw. "Slaggers. All of you. I, IRONHIDE, DID VOTE! What the frag were you thinking leaving me to remind you?"
Ratchet glanced at him, admiring his gall if not his sense. "You really asking me that?"
Ironhide glared at Ratchet. "Yes. No. Maybe."
"A rock, that's my boy," Blackjack said from the gallery with the elders and a number of others who came by to sit and 'help'.
Ironhide glanced at his father. "YOU'RE WHY I NEVER HAD A CHANCE GROWING UP!"
"I thought that was me," Alor asked sweetly with a beautiful smile.
HUGE laughter and mockery greeted that.
Prime grinned at Ironhide, then glanced at Ratchet. "Is it safe to congratulate you and yours for Docker becoming our group's representative in the Delegate Assembly?"
"Ask me tomorrow," Ratchet said with a deep frown. He rose. "I'm going to congratulate the little slagger personally." With that, he swished out of the room.
Everyone watched him go, then Hardie grinned. "Do you think he remembers that we're in the middle of a situation here?"
Ratchet re-appeared in the doorway a second later. "I'm linked in. Call me," he said, then disappeared again.
"I think so, General," Optimus said to mass snickering.
=0=At the Delegate Assembly Complex near the Performing Arts Center, Midway, Mars
The huge building sat 'midway' in the colony, at least thus far in the expansion plan and thus was chosen to be placed there to be favorable in location to no one in particular. It would be as neutral a spot as possible. The parking lot was filled with news trucks, trucks coming to take and leave, spectators, several tour buses from the Resort and other vehicles whose purposes were unknown.
The building itself gleamed in the sunlight. It looked like a cake stand with a pedestal holding up a platform in which elegant buildings were situated in each corner. A permanent clear dome covered the entire area of a building type that was common on Cybertron before the fall. Designing buildings with impossible seeming structural support was a sport amongst architects back when and Fortress Maximus who designed this one was a master of balance and harmonious composition.
It was quite a sensation on Earth, the idea of balancing a herd of elephants on the head of a pin. Inquiries for seminars and projects for Max to build and teach flooded his office after this to his great delight.
Titans are the shit.
Ratchet reached it, transformed, then walked across the beautiful plaza with hand laid stones and a huge Autobrand to the elevators that led upward inside a huge glass walled lobby. Inside, the space held art work, displays of Cybertron's long history of (mis)government, statues of every Prime no matter what a scuzzball they were as well as monitors playing the news, continuous broadcast coverage of the sessions, committees and other hearings, places for tour groups to gather, scattered places to sit and converse, a huge beautiful cafe for the public and a directory in an area with call centers and kiosks for this and that.
He noted the office number of his amma, then took Tower 1, Elevator 12 upward to exit near that building. He paused to look at it, a classical building from the Golden Age, a triumph of delicacy, elegance and utility. Max really knocked it out of the park, he thought as he slowly turned in a circle to take in the space.
It was vast, the plaza that expanded across the complex. In the center of it the flags of Cybertron were gathered. A fountain held pride of place dead center and on the terraced steps leading upward to it were flags of the city-states, then upward one step to the different cultural groups that made up Cybertronian society, then upward again to the flags of the Primes, Cybertron, Mars, the Earth-Mars flag and one for The One and Primus. That one was the flag with the two servos of The One holding Primus/Cybertron. They were beautiful to him to see in the bright sunlight of the orn.
He walked toward the building where the District Delegates held sway, then entered the bright lobby. It was busy with democracy and earnest looking mechs and femmes walking with purpose here and there. Many were gathered in small groups talking intently to each other as one or more took notations about this and that during the discussion. It had art here and there but along the walls behind the reception desk were photos of the delegates themselves.
They were happy photos, pictures of mechs and femmes who were proud to be here and they smiled, nearly all of them at those who viewed them. He walked along until he found his amma. Docker smiled at him with her shiny optics and spine of steel. He felt his own moisten as he considered once again how brave and smart she was. Cybertron could never hold her down. Being an orphan and alone at a young age, having worked hard all her life since she was barely a sub adult, she was her own femme before she met and fell hard for the jaunty mech who was Ratchet the Elder.
Now she was helping her people, taking on a responsible position as part of a school project. He could picture her going door-to-door with cookies and a notepad filled with promises and ideas that he knew she would keep. He also knew that she would someday run this place, making sure that EVERYONE got a fair and equal life. He grinned, then walked to the elevator to take it to the sixth floor where he would get off and walk to her office, No. 16 with her name painted in copper glyphs on the door: Representative Docker of Uraya, District 1-A.
He would stand in front of it awhile just taking it in. After photographing it, he opened the door and walked in. The office was busy with her staff he would learn counted six in number. Her receptionist, a youngling femme named Fee-Bee glanced up. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for Representative Docker," Ratchet said as he savored the sound of it.
"Who may I ask is calling?" she asked.
"Ratchet of Iacon," he replied. He watched her call on the comm system as he admired the room. It was beautiful, spacious, filled with streaming sunlight and comfortable furniture. Pictures of the district were on the walls along with a fun one of her and Appa Ratchet holding each other as they laughed. It was a picture from camping at the Valles with the Family back in the orn. He grinned, then heard the receptionist. He turned to her.
"You can go in, Doctor," the little femme said with a smile.
"Thank you, Fee-Bee," Ratchet said as he grinned back. He walked past her, then entered a big office with her name, 'Representative Docker of Uraya' on the door. Inside, the room was amazing. It was big, had a table and chairs in a corner of a section lined with books, slots for datapads and a big monitor. Her desk was big and covered with work and family pictures. She stood behind it smiling at him. Personal images, some painted by Sunstreaker were on the walls of the family including him. Couches and chairs were around the room along with a book covered coffee table. It looked great. "Well, I go on a mission and come back to find you angling for Prime's job."
She laughed. "You're so funny, Sunny. I never expected to win."
"You won with 86% of the vote," Ratchet said.
She walked around the desk, then to him where she hugged him. "Its a surprise, still."
"Tell me about it," He said as he hugged her back. He walked to a chair, then patted his lap.
She grinned at him, then walked over to sit. "I'm glad you're home. Its not fun without you."
"I didn't know you were running or that you won. IRONHIDE DIDN'T REMIND ME TO VOTE!"
She glanced up at him, then considered his angst. "Well, he has nice shoulders."
Ratchet laughed long and loud. He did. The slagger.
=0=At a corner of Blackstone and 14th Street, City 4, Crater District 7 some time before
Hardie waited at the curb with three buses from Autobot City Touring Company. Sela and Lauren had come here with the buses and now were waiting beside him for the seventy civilian refugees that were leaving for the Temple. He glanced at Sela. "Do you need emergency shelters? Anything at all?"
Lauren glanced at him. "We are prepared for this group, General. If there's more we will need such assistance. Right now, some of those who live in the Temple are making spaces for children. We have the others camping in the various buildings and the main floor of the Temple. Rampage and his caterers are going to provide food to be delivered three times an orn. So far, so good."
Hardie nodded. "I hope you remember we're here to assist you. If there's any difficulties or misbehavior, I will come alone to address it. No one is to be harmed because this is happening. I'm going to defuse that myself. I hope you remember that in the agreement."
"We do, General," Sela said with a grin. "No one is going to turn the Temple into a battleground when they're here for sanctuary."
"I hope not," Hardie said as a door opened in a tower nearby and mechs, femmes, children and babies began to appear. They walked out, gathering behind an older femme and mech. Then they began to walk toward the buses.
Lauren greeted them, they bowed to him, then he pointed to the buses. They walked toward them and began to board studiously avoiding noticing Hard Drive.
He watched them, checking them against memories and noticed that three of them he knew from his beach house town at the Sea of Mercury. They were high castes with a lot of money and little time for Elites. Most of the serious moneyed high castes had no interest in the Praxian Elites because they were such an impediment to their plans and desires. He couldn't tell if they remembered him but he did them.
They climbed on, then the doors closed.
Lauren turned to Hardie. "We have to go, my friend."
"If anyone hurts anyone of you and you don't call me, I will be vexed, Lauren," he said to his friend of a lifetime. "I will come and care for whatever happens."
"I know," Lauren said with a sweet smile. "We will remember," he said, then he walked to a bus to get on.
Sela started to join him, then glanced at Hardie. She mouthed, "We'll call if need be" to Hardie, then climbed on the bus. When they were loaded, they began to pull out with two Watch patrol cars in front and two in back with lights flashing to escort the buses to the Temple.
Hardie watched them go, then transformed to drive to the Temple on a shorter path cutting across open spaces to beat them there. Only when all of them were inside the Temple grounds did he walk back out, transform, then drive back to the command Center.
926 more refugees to go.
=0=TBC 5-19-2021
Everyone left for vacation but me (insert Ratchet's fog horn here) so this is late. Sorry about that. Two weeks without distractions. Who knows how many I can write a day but I'm going to find out. :D:D:D HUGS!