The Diego Diaries: Moving On (dd8 217)
=0=Home
He walked into the Temple and paused in its quiet recesses. The place was empty but for him. The Allspark was throwing long arcs of lightning, like It was excited to see him. He stared at It, then continued to the stairs. Down he went to stand in front of the relic which had stopped slowly turning.
The Well was quiet without the usual misting that accompanied his usual travels from this dimension to wherever he was going to go. He stared at It, noting his reflection in its placid surface. It usually moved, though why was never clear. It was the restless heart of Primus, linked to The People and their need for life. It was then that he disappeared and the Matrix Flame went out nearby.
=0=Not home
They flew forward following a trail that led forward into a dark area with few stars and other free floating debris. It was a strange direction to go given the ship had to hide sensor equipment in stable regions with elements to support it. The trail had been gathered from a residue of ship engine discharge so they followed it on heightened alert.
=0=Home, maybe
He found himself on a strange plane, one that was flat and went out in all directions as far as the optic could see. It was rather like a giant mirror laid on the floor with a light sheen of water on its surface. It reflected the universe above him, the stars, galaxies and other features that populated what seemed to be the Great All That Is.
He took a step, noting the water rippling away in rings when he did. All of his steps would disturb the perfectly still surface throwing into a strange stretching and bumping about of the objects reflected overhead. There was nothing more than this, the images around him and the surface. There was no sound, nothing, not even his footfalls as he walked in the direction he felt most pulled toward.
He would do so alone.
=0=Outside
They stood in the millions here and in other places where outdoor visual stations had been made. Many wanted the experience of going toward this thing, of being with others on the most important holiday of their people. Those who weren't invested in navigating the millions out on the streets or couldn't sat in theaters, gathering places in buildings and their own homes to watch in comfort. No matter how they did it, they all got the same view.
The Temple was beautiful both here and on Cybertron. Both images were shown on a split screen everywhere but in the Temple area. Those visitors would have to settle for the actions around one temple. Prowl and the family group, all of the others and the Elite Guard waited silently as Optimus went to the Matrix for all of them.
It would take a while.
=0=On a ship
They sat in a hold, the entire crew of the science ship and its military component. They'd been overtaken and now they were prisoners in the hold of someone they didn't know. A light had shown in their faces seemingly coming straight through their vessel's walls.
A light from nowhere had hit them hard knocking out every system on board. It had come from a nearby nebula surprising them with the speed and silence with which the attack had happened. A giant bolt of light slammed them and all went dark including them. It had jolted everyone thoroughly, then faded instantly. By the time they revived they were in a cube-shaped room ostensibly in a ship going who knew where.
None of the scientists were used to things going this wrong and even though the soldiers with them had enough experiences between them to know that sometimes space could fuck you over before you could see it coming, none of them knew what was happening either. All they could hope for was Prime coming for them. All of them knew he would. Just where they were at the moment, though, that was the question.
Time droned on as they sat in the square space waiting with dread to find out what was on the other side of the massive metallic door that led inside.
=0=There, motating
Ratchet leaned against the bulkhead as he listened to the conversations all around him. The soldiers were doing what soldiers did when they were on their way to possible combat, telling tales, swapping gossip and talking about anything but the mission. The humans had settled down again, all of them including the still cuffed Jim Johnson. Ratchet was watching him as they traveled.
Jim Johnson was a big man, seemingly bigger now that he was a merc for Harris. The gyms at Earth2 were incredible, state of the art and a weightlifter's dream. Because Mars had 15% of the gravity of Earth, everyone had to work at keeping their muscle mass and bone density. The suits they wore compensated for both lack of gravity and the thinness of the atmosphere, both of which were weirdly interesting to a human body.
Many of the humans took to wearing their gear all the time knowing that it kept their muscles and bones up to par even without exercise. How it did, no one knew. They just knew that every six months everyone had to surrender their gear for the next level models. One of the benefits in upgrading that often was that the helmets were part of the deal.
Sciences had not only slim-lined them again, they made it possible to hear the mechs and femmes speaking through them without channeling it through a comm line unless it was preferred. No longer did they have to set a channel to hear the conversation around them though they did often. Also, the only way still to respond to a mech or femme was through a channel. The humans could hear the mechs through their helmets but the mechs couldn't hear them without a line. The short and sweet was that they could hear what was going on around them in their helmets without turning anything on if they chose.
Also amusing was that the thinness of the atmosphere had made all voices and noises lower in tone than they were over the channels. Mellow tenors like Prowl and the twins sounded deeper and more sonorous than they did over the channels. The humans knew that their own voices did the same as well and had recorded dutifully a lot of audio for scientists back home to study the effect. So …
Where were we? Ah. Jim Johnson was built like a brick outhouse.
He'd come with a buzz cut and now sported a nice styled haircut that actually was an improvement. His now bloodied face, the one he was begrudgingly wiping up with a towel brought by a smirking Lois Morshower-Howell was actually nice but for the hardness and coldness of his rather good features and his pale blue eyes. He wasn't someone you could trust to Ratchet. He was too much a narcissist, egomaniac, bigot and know-it-all.
He wore nice clothes, walked with a swagger and set people on edge automatically. It was a strong contrast with his partner, Sam Hedges.
Sam Hedges was tall but rangy, sort of a farm boy looking person. He had dark neatly trimmed hair, dark eyes that took in everything, a strong handsome face and quiet personality. He didn't say much, preferring to allow Johnson to take the lead.
To Ratchet they were tight, a partnership based on shared values and experiences. The brains was Hedges. The menace was Johnson.
Ratchet could see why Harris wanted them. They were lightning rods for controversy, willing to take chances to see how far they could push Prime and enjoyed their notoriety. They were useful tools in Owen Harris's quests.
Judy Witwicky was sitting nearby talking to the other women but her eyes wandered now and again to the two. The other men were sitting together elsewhere in a contained that could hold 30. There was room to isolate Johnson that was just this short of Ratchet's hold so they settled again into the rhythm of the road.
:Raptor to battle group:
The room settled as everyone turned to stare at the intercom.
:We're approaching the area where it appears another player has entered the picture. Prepare for battle stations. Shuttles, make the array 557. You know your duties. Do them well. Raptor out:
The mechs sitting along the wall began to pick up their weapons, flipping some out of their subspace, an always amazing sight to see while getting their minds ready to fight. The soldiers in the box understood all too well the motions around them. The civilians watched with rapt amazement at something most of them had never seen, even among the army spouses present.
"What do you thinks going to happen?" a younger mech asked Dealer who was setting up his rifle and two blaster handguns.
"I suspect that the General will run most of the show with the titans. You would have to be something we don't know about to outgun a pair of titans and a dreadnought. Just follow your partner, infant. You will be a wonder," Dealer said quietly in his warm and kindly manner.
"I'm your partner, Sargent," the kid said to Dealer.
"You are. I asked for you," Dealer said as he grinned at the kid.
The kid stared at him a moment in surprise, then nodded. "I'll do what you tell me, Sargent. Just tell me what you need me to do."
Everyone listened to the kid but no one made any comment. This was a Home Guard kid on a mission that was going to change his life. The first one always did. That was nothing to belittle.
Dealer sat back, then grinned at the kid. "Change places, Amorie. Let the kid sit here. Partner up then."
Some mechs changed as the kid moved up to sit beside Dealer. They would spend the next few moments talking off line as Dealer told the kid what he would do and how he would do it depending on things. It would be how they learned to save themselves, listening carefully to the wisdom of their elders who in this mech's army took exceptional care not to waste each other especially when they were this young and inexperienced.
Ratchet watched them, then glanced at the humans. He was checking his own fire arms and knives as well. He grinned at the soldiers in the box. They nodded back to him. No one said a word as the fleet flew ever closer to the point in space that might have something to tell them about their missing comrades.
=0=Somewhere
He walked across a shimmering watery plane that was mesmerizing in its beauty. Finally, after what seemed an eternity of silence he saw a small island in the distance. A single palm tree stood on its tiny sandy rise and under it was a statue. He continued toward it, then climbed the slight rise of beach to pause before the statue.
It looked like an ancient Greek type he'd seen on human documentaries. It was a naked man that was his size half furled in a cloak while he held a trident. He had a beard and was staring past Prime into the distance.
Prime waited to see what would happen, then decided to continue onward. The point of the statue seemed to evade him. Just as he reached the water, he heard a voice.
"A question."
Prime turned to the statue which was looking at him, still white and marble-like but blinking his eyes like he was a normal person. The effect was not good. "What?"
"A question?"
Prime considered the statue, then came back to stand before him. He wanted to step back and would probably jump into the water if the white clammy-looking hand holding the trident reached for him. "You wish a question."
"Yes. A question. You came far, Traveler. Ask your question."
Prime considered the request, then asked it.
=0=TBC 7-24-2021
ESL
motating: (moe-tate-ing) a slangy funny way to say moving, motivating yourself somewhere. Usually, it means walking somewhere with a lot of flair and confidence.
