The Diego Diaries: Cold War (dd6 123)
-0-Diner On The Corner, 3217 Temple Avenue, District 1, Autobot City, Primal Colony of Mars, Cybertron and the Empire
"How's your food?" Ratchet asked as he dipped his 'onion ring' into 'ketchup'.
Lucien shrugged. "The food here is very good, I will say that. I'm also quite impressed with the general stores as well. We like to go to the grocery together."
"I'll let Rampage know. He's the food genius of the colony and beyond. He was a part of Predaking, just so you know."
Lucien glanced at Ratchet. "Is that so."
"Sure," Ratchet said. "He devised the base form from which all food here comes. He devised every flavor, too, testing it against the real thing from Earth. I've been in Pretender gear which mimics everything that a human can feel, sense, taste, and do, good, bad and ugly. The taste of the real thing is as exact as this. I don't know how he does it but he can. Of course, if this were the good old orns, he wouldn't be allowed."
It was uncomfortably quiet a moment, then Lucien sat back. "How long is this charade going to last?"
Ratchet pretended to consider the question, then shrugged. "They aren't my rules. They're yours, Lucien. I suppose given that I have the great responsibility to obey them to the most meticulous degree, that depends on you. For the infant here," he said nodding toward Partition who was watching with concern and hopefulness, "I'm putting in for him to be released. I'm also going to include Morius and Inweld. I touch base with their mentor, Thayne, and he has nothing but good things to say." Ratchet looked at Laslo. "I might even do the same for you, Laslo."
Laslo glanced nervously at Lucien, then Ratchet. "What about Lucien, Ratchet? I understand your reticence … you were kind to step in during the … hearing, but what about Lucien?"
"Ratchet won't cut me loose any time soon. This is play for you … a chance to strike back," Lucien said with a stern optic.
"No its not, but if it helps you to think that, then okay. I don't find anything about this funny or soothing," Ratchet said, meeting Lucien's gaze calmly. Very little scared him when he was on a mission or task, let alone a vulgar bureaucrat who refused to understand what he did to their people and world. Ratchet was quickly coming to a conclusion. "What I see here is a youngster," he said nodding to Partition, "who's filled with purpose and understanding. He wants to be better and bigger than he was. Before, he served a small slice of the pie but now … he's seeking a chance to be all that he can be for as many as possible. You'd have been proud of him. He never showed fear, he never waffled. He did what I told him to do and he got out to tell the Prime what he needed to know. He was a soldier and a warrior for Cybertron at that moment. The mechs who're training him? They think he has promise and they're going the extra mile to see he achieves it. And get this. They don't have to do it for a Home Guardsman."
"And why would they think so? Why would they think my son, a young mech who was raised to lead the nation would be any good as a soldier?" Lucien asked coldly.
Ratchet leaned forward meeting Lucien more than half way. "Because I do." Ratchet sat back as they stared at each other, then Partition looked at Ratchet. "I'll do what I can. I like them and they teach me things I never knew. Whatever the situation is, I'll come and do my best."
Ratchet looked at Partition, one of the most disagreeable legacy mechs he had ever met and felt huge emotions and compassion for him. "It never crossed my mind to doubt you. You're a miracle. This place makes them, Lucien," Ratchet said. "Every orn someone finds themselves, who they truly are and they're never the same. You exceed expectations every orn, Partition. I'm proud of you. I saw it in you, inside the slag, a tiny diamond waiting for someone to polish it. You're going to be great. In fact, you're going to add training to be a field medic to your resume. When we go out, if you're not with me, you're with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. I trained them to be field medics too."
Partition grinned, then nodded. "That would be great."
Ratchet looked at the two. "Your son came to me wanting to be a diplomat even though he was temperamentally unsuited to be one. He had no idea of the concept of selfless service to others. It's a delicate thing being a diplomat. You don't have it in you, infant," Ratchet said as he glanced at Partition. "No offense."
Partition grinned, then nodded. "I know. I hated it. I had to sit in an office and get along with everyone instead of going around and moving. I hate office work."
"I had you do copy and data work because I knew that. I needed you to blow your top so I could glue you back together my way. You have good marks coming from Commander Lissie and Commanders Hercy and Kup. They think you have the stuff. So do I. That's why you're going to cross train as a medic too."
Partition nodded. "Thanks, Ratchet. I really mean it." He looked at his genitors. "I wish you could see what I do. I wish you could see how all the mechs let me in. I never really felt at home anywhere until here, now. They're great mechs and femmes and we hang out." He looked at Ratchet. "I got invited to go to the Valles this weekend to camp with the mechs. Bezel and Lon invited me. Hot Rod and Smokey, Blurr, Bumblebee, First Aid and everyone else is coming too."
"Do you have gear and food lined up?" Ratchet asked.
"No," Partition replied.
"Well,we'll take care of that tonight. For now," Ratchet said glancing at a clock on the wall, "you're due at the dojo. Drift has decided to teach you how to use swords and knives. He's asked me to let you be his student. That is, if you want to be."
Partition looked at Ratchet with a shocked and growing expression of amazement. "Drift? He wants me to be his student?"
"I know. It's a lot. He's Circle and Knight. It's a lot to consider," Ratchet said doubtfully.
"NO! I mean … yes. I'd *LOVE* to do that. Does he want me now?" Partition asked with astonished excitement.
"He's probably at the dojo. If you take the #16 train, it doesn't stop until it gets to Kalis. Then it goes onward to Tyger Pax as the next stop skipping Centurion. Otherwise, other trains make every stop between here and there," Ratchet said.
"Number 16? I got it," Partition said as he stuffed the last part of his burger in his mouth. He looked at his genitors, then grinned. "I'll call you tonight. I have a master," he said as he slid out of the booth. Ratchet watched him run for the door, then slid back in.
"I think that infant is engaged with his life," Ratchet said. "I don't expect you to like his choices. I wouldn't. I've decided my kids won't be soldiers but if they decide they want to, I'll suck it up. That's what unconditional love is."
It was silent, then Laslo leaned forward. "You won't allow him to get hurt, will you?" he asked with fear.
"Laslo, you have my word that he'll be protected and nurtured into his career choice. He's Home Guard. Home Guard doesn't do battles. He's going to be a medic and will be going out with me and the other medics, but they're not front line soldiers like me. Don't worry too much. We don't waste our kids," Ratchet said.
Laslo sat back somewhat mollified. It was silent again.
-0-At a dojo in Tyger Pax
He hurried out of the elevator, then jogged to the door of the dojo. A great number of mechs were sitting there, hanging in the lounge, watching as a couple sparred on a mat with Willa. They were using practice swords, going through set piece attacks against her both separately and together. She fended them off, then explained what they should do instead.
He watched them, then walked to the lounge, pausing by the chair where Roadbuster sat sprawled, hanging with the mechs before heading to shift at the prison. Hercy grinned. "Your student is here. I'm assuming, infant, that you're taking Drift up on his offer?"
Partition nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Nice manners," an older mech said, a Wrecker named Particle. "You have nice manners, infant."
"Thank you, sir," Partition said as Drift rose with a grin.
"Show him stuff, infant," Hercy said glancing at Drift as Kup nodded. "I think you have enough skill to help him a bit."
Huge laughter greeted that as Drift glanced back at Hercy. "Thanks, Abba. I'll do my best," he said to laughter and rude remarks. He picked up a pair of practice swords, then tossed one to Partition. Walking to the mat, he glanced at Partition. "Stand beside me and show me your stance."
Partition joined him, standing beside Drift. Drift corrected his stance, then grinned. "I'm going to show you steps. They'll help you learn the basic movements. When that's learned, we'll advance. This means you come with me a lot and do the labor."
Partition nodded. "I will, Master. Ratchet needs me too."
"I've coordinated the schedule with Ada. We'll work it out, then text you. Go where the message dictates."
Partition nodded, then watched as Drift began the moves that Partition would learn to perfection. Part of the reason for that was he would sneak out at night and practice them in the open space around the tower where he was crashing at Ratchet's house. Ratchet, of course, would know. Ratchet would be immensely proud that he did.
It would be a light and friendly time in the dojo working with his new master, listening to the advice and humorous banter of the mechs as they watched. When it was over, the lot would go to Club Hoyle and play cards for a bit. Partition would go with them and they would show him how to play. It would be the most entertaining and thrilling few joors he had spent in his life thus far.
-0-Diner On The Corner
It was quiet, then Ratchet decided to go for broke. "You know he's living at my house."
"We don't approve," Lucien said.
"We miss him at home," Laslo said.
"He'd come home but he knows you don't approve," Ratchet said. "He's changing and it's work. It's painful. It's hard to know that it isn't supported by those you love the best and make no mistake … he adores both of you."
"Then he should come home. You shouldn't be encouraging him to cause turmoil in his family," Lucien said.
"I don't encourage him to do that, Lucien. I give him a safe port for his little boat. If he felt secure about all of this at home, he'd be there. He's safe with me in every facet of his orn. He's proud of his tattoos. You didn't compliment him on them or what they mean. That's too bad. You do know that discouraging him makes it harder, not easier to reach detente. But then, you don't care about detente or what makes someone else happy. You only care about caste and preserving your privilege, a circumstance you never earned nor did anything to deserve."
"I don't expect you to understand the complexity or nuances of The System, Ratchet. You've made your position clear enough all along," Lucien said.
"Your 'complexity' and 'nuances' destroyed our culture, civilization, empire, and people. If not for this place, your kids would be as miserable and unlovable as you are. There's nothing to understand about artificial barriers to upward mobility. How many babies do you think starved to death or died from treatable illnesses on Cybertron because of what you did in the Citadel when you were in power? Hundreds? Thousands? How many elders didn't get the fullness of their years as the humans say? Did you know about the ghettos, the Wilderness and Wasteland in Kaon? Did you know about the Dead End in Polyhex? Did you know about empties?"
It was silent as they stared at each other. Laslo shifted uneasily. "What can we do now, Ratchet? How can we do anything now?"
"Well, you can let outmoded and evil-minded notions and ideas die the death they so richly deserve," Ratchet said as he looked at the bot who looked ill and uneasy. Laslo was usually in the clouds and was bearable overall. He had no grudge against the tall handsome bot who lived in a future that would never come, rather than a difficult now with all its changes and messy circumstances. Laslo wasn't on Ratchet's radar. Lucien and several others were. A plan came together in his processor, one that was tough love, one designed to slap the notions of exceptionalism out of their noggins even if it meant doing things over and over again. "I need to do something and both of you are coming. So are a number of others. Give me a moment," Ratchet said as he want off line to Optimus and Prowl.
Laslo glanced at Lucien with a concerned expression. Lucien squeezed his servo, then looked at Ratchet who had just signed off. "What fresh torture do we have to bear now?"
"These are your rules, Lucien, you and your slagging caste. I'm only stepping up to help mentor you to a good end because no one else did. No one you knew, no one who was part of your world stepped up. I can only imagine the betrayal you feel about that. Personally, I was the only one with enough compassion, me, old low caste Ratchet, to step up and save you. No one else did. You getting snippy with me, you thinking you can slag me is a bad thing. I could just as easily tell the courts you belong shunned for the rest of your slagging lives."
Lucien stared at him stonily as Laslo squeezed his servo.
"I had a chat with Prime and Prowl," Ratchet began …
:Hey!:
:Is that you, loser?:
:Ratchet? Prime here:
Ratchet grinned. :I want a favor. I want to take Lucien and Laslo along with Traachon, Hobbes, Burris whose on day leave as well as Maddow and Hauser to Cybertron. I want those slaggers to see what they did. Fraggers. I'm going for shock therapy:
:Do you think that's wise?: Prowl asked.
:No, but I think its necessary. I think Laslo, Partition and his brothers are ready to kick loose from the court rule. What can't happen is Lucien being shunned as incorrigible and the family being torn apart over what to do. The others minus Maddow and Hauser need a fine tune up. I've been having those who deal with them check in with me. I want to make sure that those who can make it aren't sucked down by the others. I found out from Ironhide that you don't have to be arrested to get a caste court. Anyone who's sick of your slag can call one. Slagging 1% rules:
:They can. I remember someone doing it on another who was a bad neighbor: Prowl opined.
:Go ahead, Ratchet. If you can make a change then its worth the trouble. Take who and what you need: Prime said.
:Thanks. I'll brief you when I get back. I also have to take Partition to The Gear Shed and get him kitted out for camping. Apparently, a lot of the youngling soldiers are going and they want him to come. It looked like he was going to explode from happiness when he told me. Ratchet out:
Prowl glanced at Prime who was sitting at the table going over the new early warning system arrayed against Cassio Imperialis. "Voodoo," he said.
Prime grinned.
-0-Diner On The Corner
Ratchet arose. "Come on. Let's go. We have a field trip ahead of us."
"I have a job and so does Laslo," Lucien said coldly.
"I already cleared both of you." Ratchet walked toward the door, then after a second, the two followed.
-0-Outside
Ratchet walked up Temple, then cut across traffic at Metroplex Highway #1 heading for the airfield across the way. It was busy as slag as they wound their way through the carefully choreographed action of machine and mech. A human buzzing here and there waved and called out which Ratchet returned. They were walking toward a shuttle, a huge gun infested vehicle of war and mayhem around which a number of mechs were lounging. They grinned as Ratchet came to a halt before them. "Is this my whip?" he asked with a dazzling smile on what according to Cybertronian standards was a ravishingly beautiful face.
"It is. Where are we going?" Springer asked. "The bond is teaching your student how to be a swordsman. Thanks for pushing his good guy button. Apparently, he has a padwan now."
The others laughed loudly. "Consider it a threesome," a big mech said. Huge laughter.
"I want you to meet Lucien and Laslo, the genitors of the padwan," Ratchet said as he watched the mechs shift with a touch of embarrassment at the news. The big mech grinned. "A platonic threesome."
HUGE LAUGHTER.
More mechs came, some with great indignation as a cab drew up and discharged two mechs. Traachon and Hobbes stepped out, halting at the sight before them. "What's this?" Hobbes asked with a wary sense of self preservation.
"We're deporting ya," Smokescreen said as he sat in the doorway of the ship. Devcon who was coming for the lulz smirked handsomely. The looks on the faces of the four were incredible as everyone laughed.
"Don't mind them," Ratchet said to the four as two more cabs arrived. "They didn't have no good bringing up."
"Yeah," Mickle, a big gnarly Wrecker and demolition expert said. "I was born in a barn."
"Yeah?" Splice asked. "I was born in a back alley on a dark stormy night."
For a moment, they bantered out the necessaries in an old army game … "who had the worst childhood in the battalion', then the newcomers walked up with various emotions on their faces ranging from A to B.
"What's this?" Burris asked with umbrage. He always was in a bad humor and his bosses were about to kick him to the energon pits from his current day release approved occupation.
The other cab opened up as Maddow and Hauser stepped out, stared at the others, then Ratchet. "Hi, Ratchet. You wanted us?" Hauser asked.
"I do," Ratchet said. "Me and the boys," he said with a swipe of his arm, "are going to Cybertron to see some of that vaunted System mojo. When we get back, I have to make the rounds of the prison and the special hold-special circumstances prisoners. I thought we'd all take a walk on the wild side. What do you say?" Ratchet asked with a dazzling smile.
Hauser and Maddow nodded with grins. "We're glad to come. Maybe," Maddow said, glancing at his cousin, "it might do us all good to see."
"SPEAK FOR YOURSELF!" Burris said with fury as the others shot cold optics at Maddow.
"I can't believe that a great mech like Bezel can be your son, Burris. Put a lid on it or I'll disable your vocal processor." Ratchet glared at Burris. Burris glared at Ratchet. The mechs behind him smirked at Burris, knowing full well that very few ever won an argument with Ratchet when he was on the job. They had all tried themselves. Traachon, Maddow, Hauser, and Hobbes watched Burris, then Ratchet, then Burris. "What about Lucien and Laslo?" Hobbes asked.
"They're coming along. Today, we had a parade. It was uplifting and delightful. It was also here. I think its a good idea to have a parade on Cybertron and I want you to be in it. Let's go."
"I have a job," Traachon said. "Such as it is."
"I've cleared everyone. NOW GET ON THE SLAGGING VESSEL!"
The area reverberated a moment including a handful of mech working nearby on a ship. The chastened group moved to the vessel and climbed on prompting those mechs nearby to give Ratchet a standing ovation. Everyone knew Ratchet and half of them had been or were still his personal patients. Ratchet curtsied with a grin, then swept like a debutante up the ramp to the loud laughter and lewd remarks of those watching. As he did, the twins roared up and into the shuttle. The others entered, then it slammed shut. Lifting up with special clearance, the vessel headed upward to the triggers.
-0-In a club playing cards
They stood in the doorway, two mechs scanning the crowd for another one. Waving to his brothers, Partition beckoned them over. The mechs, most of them soldiers and hard boiled as frag, made space for them, then dealt them into the hand. They took the cards, then looked at Partition. "What's this?" they asked.
"We're playing poker. The mechs showed me. Here," he said taking their hands. He sorted them, then handed them back. Giving them a portion of the chips in front of him, he picked up his own. "We make a bet, an ante. Then everyone bluffs the others about what their cards show in their hand," he said as the other mechs at the table grinned at him. "Whoever has the best hand wins the pot."
They would ante, they would bluff, then one-by-one as per internal agreement, the mechs would let Partition win. He would so with delight. A mech on each side of the two new kids would sit out a couple of hands to show the kids how to play, then it would be on. Partition would do a good job but Inweld would be a natural. It would be a delightful way to pass the afternoon before dinner.
Inweld and Morius would also go camping in the Valles and go to the different outfitting places with Ratchet to get kitted out. Partition would help them.
-0-In a shuttle on the way to go down the triggers to Cybertron
It was quiet as each side of the divide sized up the others. The Soldiers, a gnarly, amused, heavily tattooed, artfully scarred, all around nightmare-looking bunch of hard bitten, hard boiled, and intensely drolly hilarious individuals scoped out The Others, both groups. The Others Group 1 was Maddow and Hauser, well known around town both inside and outside of law enforcement because Maddow was a Knight-Philosopher, that is, someone delegated by the sect to keep the lore, the legends, the rules, and the way forward straight and in good order. Hauser was a Knight and Circle mech who was Chief of Detectives of Mars and Cybertron. Both were well liked. They were more Our Guys Who Were Civilians But Dope, rather than The Others Group Who Were Dopes but since some of them were related to The Others Group 2 individuals, the name stuck.
Yes, the writer is insane.
Burris was a tightly wound bundle of outrage wedged into a seat between Traachon and Hobbes. Burris was a big mech with an elaborate and sickeningly beautiful paint scheme. He was keeping it up here, too, given that somehow, someway, he had gotten a day pass from the courts. Someone, apparently, thought he was salvageable. Ratchet appeared to be among him, hence his presence. The mechs were smirking and having a ripping fine conversation off line about him since he was the most obvious, most well known rack of shit on board at the moment.
Lucien and Laslo were sitting together silently, their servos linked together. Somehow, the fact that they were tugged at Ratchet's spark. He had been scanning everyone unbeknownst to anyone on board for the last few moments and decided that Laslo didn't need to come. He leaned into the flight deck, whispered to the pilot, then sat back around.
The pilot nodded as he began to make the flight ready. "Trigger Flight Control, this is Jagged Edge, pilot-navigator of Impactor's Revenge. We have a passenger to unload through our on-board bridge. Prepare to receive package." He leaned around the corner and nodded to Ratchet.
"Hey, Jag. This is Pistol. Are we on for Martian Friday night?" Flight Control replied.
"Yeah," Jagged Edge said with a chuckle. "What's the word, Pistol?"
"We're receptive at your go," Pistol said.
Ratchet looked at Laslo. "You don't need to come, Laslo. Go home or go to work. It's up to you. You're cleared either way."
Laslo looked at Ratchet, then Lucien. "I think I need to stay with Lucien."
Ratchet sought a map grid of the colony, located who he wanted, then looked at Laslo. "Go to Club Hoyle, Laslo. Here's the coordinates," Ratchet said as he sent them. "Your boys are there and you can hang out with them until Lucien gets back. It's going to be fine."
Laslo wavered, then Lucien squeezed his servo. "Go. I'll be back in time for dinner." He looked at Ratchet. "Right?"
"That's my plan," Ratchet said.
Laslo kissed Lucien who rose uncertainly, then walked to the back with a mech who helped him go through the bridge. The flight control mech was back.
"We have the package, Jag. Pistol-Navigator is seeking clearance," the voice said, then was back. "Jag, you are cleared for Cybertron. Are you go?" he asked.
"We're go," Jagged Edge replied. "See ya later."
"Done deal, brother," Pistol said as the bridge arms burst into light.
Their shuttle flew forward into the glare and blinding energy chaos. As fast as they flew, that's how fast they arrived. Flying into the darkness again, the civilians turned to windows to see their home world for the first time in four million years. Cybertron hung in the darkness with areas of light dotted on the surface. Its glory before was the immense amounts of light that covered it from end to end, once visible from space but now long gone. Debris floated in the area of space around the planet that used to be filled with ships and equipment. All of that activity served to make this one of the most secured and safe planets anywhere. Now it was an agony to see it this way, to see it suffer so much. Even Hauser who came often never got past the changes.
Now it was mostly dark with what lights that existed too few to illuminate all of the great beauty of this, their beloved home world as it once did. There was even no sunlight showering half of its bulk in glory. It was always a wonder to Ratchet how even the worst slagger he ever met was a home boy at spark as he watched them take in the sight. They were stilled by it, the sad outcome of a furious past, and even though they would differ about responsibility for it, the sight still sickened.
"Flight Control-Polyhex, we have you on approach. Come in and land on the army field, slot 1439-B7-A. We have you on automatic and will lead you in."
"Roger that," Pistol said. He sat back as the automated system most of their airports sported in the bigger urban areas took over. It would be a smooth flight down and a long taxi on the runway to the slot where their ship would sit until needed again.
The sight along the way after touchdown was mostly dark because the greatest number of lights were in the city beyond, partly from several metro titans and partly from huge banks around the area constructed right away. They were permanent and permanently on. Those here were spaced far enough apart on the runways to do the job but not more. Maddow who had not been back since The Fall and The Great Exodus turned emotional optics toward Ratchet. "We have no sun anymore, do we."
"No," Ratchet said. "We're working on moving her to another place and safety. We want to have blue skies again."
Maddow nodded as he looked back. "This is horrifying. This is unbearable. Thank you, Ratchet, you and the army for this. All the help you've given … it adds up. Right?" he asked turning to look at Ratchet with emotion.
"Slowly but surely, Maddow," Ratchet said.
"You should have seen it when we came," Springer said as he sat across from Hobbes. "There was starvation and no where to live. We had to hunt down millions of individuals, sometimes walking over bodies. They were laying everywhere. We fed hordes and hordes, some of them walking hundred of miles carrying their families on their backs over ordinance-strewn fields and highways, through toxic wastelands, hiding when gangs came past, pirates and gangs." He was silent a moment. "It was a nightmare."
"It was," a big mech said. "I went to my home town to find my family and I did. They were half starved and living in a bomb crater they covered with scraps. I won't ever forget their gratitude and disbelief. It took a long time for anyone to believe we actually came for them. We did it without a fight. Prime did that and we did it. Frag everyone else."
It was silent as the ship slid to a halt. Pistol looked around the corner. "We're in the tie down. Do you want me to wait here, Ratchet?"
"I'd love you to do that, infant," Ratchet said as he stood. "We're going to see the sights, then come back. I think a nice tour is in order. Take a break and get something to eat. I'll comm you a breem or two before we need you to fly us onward."
Pistol nodded, then let down the ramp as the hatch opened. Ratchet turned to the army mechs. "You go first, handsome. We'll come behind ya."
The big mechs got up with their guns and swords trading slag with Ratchet as they walked out. Then Ratchet turned to the civilians when the last one was outside. "We're on sacred ground. This is a graveyard from end to end. Everyone here is a hero. They deserve respect. Throw a tantrum, argue some dumb point or expect special treatment and I'll drop you so fast you'll need triage. We're home at last. Remember that. This is a very great privilege. Let's go."
The mechs stood, then walked to the door and down the ramp. Ratchet nodded to Pistol who grinned at him. "Have fun, Ratchet."
Ratchet grinned. "I always do," he said grimly. "We'll be back shortly, infant." He then walked to the door and out.
Pistol stared at the doorway. "Bring them back better, Ratchet," he whispered, then rose. He walked to the door and down the ramp pausing at the bottom. Polyhex was his home town. He loved to come here. He suggested it to Ratchet as a destination when he was selected to fly. It always made him feel better when he came here. In the midst of the rubble lay the ghosts of memory. Just being this close to them made him feel better. He walked onward to the pilot's station nearby where he would eat great food, trade slag with the others there and wait for Ratchet to come back.
-0-In the doorway of Club Hoyle
Laslo stood with uncertainty as he looked inside. His son, Morius, would spot him before he would spot them. Waving him over, Partition proudly introduced Laslo to each of the mechs at the table. They were friendly and funny, making a place for him to sit. He would watch Partition play, then reluctantly, shyly, take a hand for himself. He would be hooked on poker and enjoy himself immensely with his boys. However, always at the back of his processor was Lucien. He would be happy, mostly, anyway.
-0-TBC 9-10-17 edited 9-19-17