The Diego Diaries: War (dd6 104)
-0-Salton Sea
Drift lay on a med berth under a bright light. He was in a haze of semi-stasis as the doctors surrounding him removed his optic. Springer who was sitting nearby looking everywhere but at Drift waited with a sense of anxiety. They were both so durable and tough. This was the most injured both had been short of their first encounter with the acid monsters way back when. Losing an optic was awful. He had gone more than once with damaged optics. Fortunately, their sensor capabilities allowed them to know what was going on with only a small difference in clarity. He didn't like to see his affable bond in pain.
A tech took the tray with the broken optic and walked away with it. Springer watched him go, considering that an essential part of his best friend was going to the medical recycle bin. It felt odd. Another brought a tray with the new one so he stared at the floor again. Frag watching this slag.
-0-Cambo and Goldwing
They worked in different theaters repairing the damage that the alien marauders had delivered upon the bodies of four of their fellows. He and Goldie had the worst cases and specialists were working together to repair the others. The mech he was working on would live but his war-related functions were shot. Cambo glanced at the monitor. Functions were actually rising. This big mech, a Seeker with the Wreckers, a rarity he was told, would live and prosper. As long as you were alive, the future was yours to choose. He, himself, had been a geologist who dreamed of medicine. Now, he was a doctor with a geology hobby. As long as you lived, there was hope. He continued to deliver excellent care to the mech in his charge but at no time when he did it did he not think of Ratchet.
-0-Ratchet
He stood in the same overly lit room. His optics were working overtime to accommodate the light. The voice was back. "Your Prime attacked our allies. Very sad."
"Frag you. I told you he wasn't who you thought he was. You push him hard enough he's coming no matter what it costs. He doesn't like fraggers telling him what to do," Ratchet said.
"Then maybe you need to tell him yourself what I will do to push back," the voice said.
"Prime is Prime. He takes his own counsel. You would do well to pull back and allow us to take the people away. Then you can have the settlements. It's too fragged to live out here. When Prime decides to do something he does it come Hell or high water," Ratchet said channeling an expression that amused him. It was silent. "Well? Are you going to go in pieces or are you just going to go until we gather our people? Prime won't give up. I've known him for nine million years. He will never give up when he makes up his mind and he won't care how many molecules you and yours turn into when he brings the rain."
"Then you need to tell him that if he comes here and tries, the settlements get obliterated."
Ratchet stood without comment, then he was roughly pulled away. He walked here and there, then ended up in another room, the bag dragged roughly off his helm. Spinning to look, the door closed too fast to show anything. He looked around, then saw a monitor nearby. It flashed on. There was nothing on it for a moment, then Prime's face showed up, Prime sitting on his command chair with everyone gathering around him, their expressions grim and emotional. With him was a number of Wreckers, family and others who looked a little worse for the wear.
-0-Shortly after the confab with Tennyson and before Ratchet's appearance
They walked back onto the bridge, their tension and familial relationships drawing them back. Drift walked with Springer, his optic replaced and his leg patched. They still looked pockmarked like the twins, Bezel, Lon and the others but they were alive and ready to go again. The ship with Jazz and his team had left earlier and they were between assignments. Going to the bridge to hang out, to offer what they could and to be together felt right. The youngsters, Lon, Bezel, Blurr, Smokey, Hot Rod, and a kid named Coe-Fee who was learning to be a pilot on away missions joined them.
Prime was conferring with Prowl when the screen lit up. A blast of light from the monitors forward adjusted, then showed Ratchet standing in a white room without doors or windows. Everyone froze, then gathered around Prime. "Ratchet."
"Prime. I have to talk to you about slag. I told them that you don't care about what happens once you make up your mind to do something but they think I have influence," Ratchet said.
Prime who knew the routine well enough over the eons nodded. "You told them, right?"
Ratchet nodded. "I told them that you weren't the soft sparked kid you used to be. War does that over the eons. I told them to leave the colonies so we could take the civilians but they said no. I told them that if you come, you don't care about casualties. They don't believe me."
"They should," Prime said coldly. "Fraggers. Tell them, Ratchet, that if you and the civilians are not retrieved, then I will come forward with my armadas and destroy everything they hold dear."
"I did. They don't seem to grasp the fine print," Ratchet said with a slight smile. "Right now, I'm good. But if this doesn't work out, I know what you have to do. If I have to go up in smoke, make the fraggers pay hard."
"That will not be a problem. Where is the voice that speaks to us? Prime asked.
"I don't know. I'm surprised he let me talk to you. Frankly, I don't see them getting the picture. Maybe a big aft shot at their defenses would let them get the picture," Ratchet said with a shrug. "Don't do it on my account though," he said with a slight smile. "It's not like we haven't met this sort of thing before. It's not a new encounter for any of us."
Then the transmission cut off.
Ironhide who had been cut into the transmission materialized on the deck of Salton Sea from Moonbase. His family, Raptor, Blackjack and Hard Drive appeared as well. They walked to Prime, then Ironhide stared at the monitor. "He gave us a clue."
Prime nodded. "I know. We've done this before. It's someone we encountered. Prowl, we need to go through the files."
Prowl nodded. "How far back?"
"Recent. Since we came here," Optimus replied. He looked at Ironhide. "He looks good. Healthy and unharmed."
Ironhide nodded, though the expression on his face was murder. "I know. The bond is strong and all he feels is anxiety. He's trying to tone it down but I know my old mech."
"This helps," Prime said.
Prowl turned to him. "We have all the encounters so far. Here they are," he said putting them onto the screen. They were listed in NeoCybex without English translation. Some of those listed were not yet known generally to the humans and Harris was here, after all. "I don't think we can include Thundertron in the mix. He's not that organized and he would have killed Ratchet and the settlements by now." He disappeared from the list.
They discussed the groups, then narrowed it down. Prime thought a moment, then turned to Starscream and Rainmaker who had been called to join him. "I would like you to send a group to find out where the second listing is, Starscream," he said.
The humans in the box grinned as Prime confirmed what they already suspected. Harris, on the other hand, was startled. :Starscream?!: he blurted.
The others turned to stare at him. :We call him Star because he is. Ask him: Epps said as the others snickered. Then they turned back to the discussion. Apparently, Prime didn't care if anyone knew about the big colorful Seeker who was a part of his General Staff, his partner in all things protecting the solar system including the humans on Earth.
So be it.
The discussion continued, then Starscream and Rainmaker walked out to comply with whatever the team had decided upon. Ironhide and his family headed out to their postings in the clearing ahead while everyone else settled to await what appeared to be information from Starscream's teams.
It was quiet on the deck once more.
-0-Harris
He looked at the mechs who sat around the bridge either relaxing together awaiting assignments or working at the consoles. The twins and a number of gnarly and even wounded mechs sat in the forward area ahead of the pilot and navigator. They were huge, colorful, calm and relaxed, covered in tattoos and patched wounds with seemingly no worries or cares. They were Wreckers, mostly. He recognized their tattoos and some of them personally. He also had memorized as many tats as he could. A good fourth of them were Circle. More than half of them were Knights of Cybertron. Most of them were Wreckers, this group lounging, and a good half of them wore the tattoo of the Day/Night Watch. They had an aura of danger and humor, an appealing combination even for him.
Sitting across from them reading a datapad, the mech they called Soundwave relaxed. He was the one defeated on Cybertron, the lieutenant of Megatron himself, the Governor-Protector of the planet in the dictator's absence. He was big, opaque in his personal appearance and more than slightly menacing. He wasn't consulted but he was here. Apparently, there was a big component of this battle group that was from Cybertron itself. This was the first combined operation undertaken by the Prime, apparently, since forever. It would appear that if the situation was dire for both in the past, a truce would allow them to fight a common enemy together.
Others at the consoles were quiet and highly efficient, some plugged directly in, a sight that still gave him the creeps. Some came and went, some commanders from other ships came and went, sometimes the behemoth players would come and go. Prime was efficient and economical in his command style, something that appealed to Harris. He didn't like drama any more than Prime did, evidently. It was calm, professional and effective. The battles he had seen were astonishing and had ended favorably for Prime. What they would signify in the long run beyond the enemy getting the picture of Prime's power, he didn't know. He glanced at Lennox. :All that Ratchet said … it's not correct. Right?:
Lennox nodded. :Prime never wastes a life. All life matters. Ratchet's giving him a cover. He's playing the marks who have him. He's giving them incentive to give it up. They've been doing this for millions of years. Both of them know what to do:
Harris nodded, then turned in his seat to watch the mechs up front. Some of them were kids, some of them like Blurr had a level of fame among their own kind that he would struggle to understand, some were new and on their first mission. All of it was enthralling, though there was a part of him that hated that it was. He was getting a clear and inside view of who and what Prime was and brought to the table and who and what the enemy was. He was very clear that Earth was outclassed by anyone out here who might want to come and do whatever they wanted. It was crystal clear. Something else was also crystal clear.
Prime wanted him to know that too.
-0-Ratchet
He sat in the holding room leaning against the wall in the dark. He had made his move. He had given Prime the identity of who was holding him short of their name. Now it was up to Optimus to do the rest. He had no doubt that he would and that Prime would prevail. They had done this more times than he cared to remember, sometimes with Prime the prisoner, sometimes with himself. The one thing that he could count upon was the greatness of Optimus and his tenacity to protect and retrieve. He relaxed himself preparing to wait whatever came next. Nothing in his thinking alluded to failure to go home. He was going home. Optimus Prime was coming.
-0-TBC 8-21-17 edited 8-23-17