The Diego Diaries: Redemption? 1 (dd6 160)
-0-On a shuttle heading for another hell hole
Cargo sat stoically by a big turret gun. A huge mech sat there, one gnarly with scars and tattoos, half of which he had no idea of the meaning. He was covered in grime and grease, the oil of the broken hole in the ground sloshing onto his servos and legs as he passed buckets of it onward in the bucket line. He hated it. He had never been this dirty before but he knew better than to complain. He wasn't a hot headed big mouth unless he was angry. Beating the slag out of Bezel had been the point of the moment, but not a major part of who he was overall. This, however, was the unexpected outcome of that miscalculation born of a momentary flash of rage. Apparently, Bezel had been a good student of his new profession.
Hard Drive sat nearby hip deep in datapads and conversations with aides-de-camp. His sweet ada thought Hardie had chosen him and on that score he was mostly right. He wouldn't touch his ada's impression with any sort of correction. If it helped him, then he would endure with gratitude. The image of his ada's distress tugged at him so he pushed it away. His father was almost unrecognizable in every imaginable way. His paint scheme was amazing but it disguised him. Maybe it was a good thing, he thought. A lot of individuals would like to kill him.
All of them, maybe.
He felt the shuttle begin its descent and girded himself for anything. It would be good that he did.
-0-Ratchet and Burris
They walked down the corridor together to a place where things were done. Entering a big room filled with machinery and carts loaded with dishes and other containers, he smiled at the worker bees. "HELLO, MINIONS! IT IS I! YOUR DEARLY BELOVED!"
Huge laughter greeted that as the kitchen crew turned to him with smiles. Obviously, this wasn't the first time Ratchet had come here with his usual line of good cheer. Ratchet turned to Burris. "This is my new project. His name is Burris. I want him to get a feel for the whole operation. I think if you could show him how this works," he said nodding to the washing station nearby, "then that would be a good start. A couple of orns doing everything will give him a feel for the place and maybe a clearer idea of what he might want to do full time."
A big mech nodded. "Done deal," he said with a grin.
Ratchet turned to Burris who was tense but game. "Try this out and we'll move around. I want you to know how great this place is and the best way to do it is to have you work with the stars of the show, the mechs and femmes who work here. I'll check in later. Will you be alright?"
Burris nodded. "I'll be fine. Thank you," he said.
Ratchet bumped fists with the big mech, then swished out.
He grinned. "That mech is hilarious. I hear he's sparked."
"Another Ironhide-faced baby," someone said, then they all laughed.
The big mech looked at Burris. "I'm Mori. I run this operation. Let me show you what you need to do. Ask questions. It's not rocket science but its new to you. The only dumb question is the one you don't ask. Okay?"
Burris nodded. "I will. Thank you." He would spend the next four joors washing dishes as they came down from the hospital patients. It surprised him how cheery the workers were doing this sort of work. He would find that wherever he went in the system. What would be another interesting thing for him was he would like it for the repetitious monotony of the work, for seeing them go in dirty and come out clean and mostly, for the good hearted, good natured camaraderie that was all around him. What he would also come to know is that the workers around him were kind and inclusive. It almost made him want to cry.
-0-Upstairs, getting slag together
He walked in, then grinned. "Need help?"
Ratchet grinned. "If you want to go on rounds, it might show you a few things. Maybe I can consult with you and see where you are on your training."
Partition smiled. "That would be great. I'm stabilizing wounds right now. I also know how to hook up intravenous lines. It's amazing how technical it all is. I think I'm going to be good at it."
"I have faith in you, infant," Ratchet said with a grin.
"No one else saw me like you do. Not even me. When did you?" Partition asked with a serious expression on his handsome face.
"When I first saw you. There's something in you that I couldn't define. I just know after all these vorns, that when I see it I try to make it bloom. It doesn't always work. Some are more hard headed than you."
Partition laughed. "I don't know about that. I'm pretty dumb."
"No," Ratchet said with a serious expression. "You had to live up to different expectations that aren't natural to who we truly are. Consider this. Your spark is pure and it came to this life with good intentions. You were being asked not to live up to them. Maybe your behavior was rebellion against that."
Partition looked at Ratchet with a thoughtful expression. "Do you really think that?"
Ratchet nodded. "I do. I think we all come pure. We came from Primus and The One. Remember?" he said as Partition nodded. "Life is a hard task master and it gets you in its grip from separation with its artificial expectations and demands. I think if you really try, that way of life doesn't have to win. It didn't with you. You beat it back. You exceed expectations every second."
Partition nodded, then walked around Ratchet's desk to embrace him. "Thank you. You saved me. I don't know where I'd be if you hadn't tried. No one else ever did. I'm sorry for all the slag, Ratchet. You and Ironhide are the best."
Ratchet hugged him back. "It's our pleasure, I assure you." He squeezed Partition. "How's the genitors?"
He shrugged. "My ada is fatalistic. He accepts things as they are. My atar is something else. Sometimes when he's quiet, I can't figure him out. I do know that we were best friends. I miss that."
He looked sad a moment, so Ratchet hugged him. "We're having lunch today. I just let them both know. Come with and we'll see how it goes."
Partition looked doubtful, then nodded. "Okay. What about my brothers?"
"How are they doing?" Ratchet asked as he pulled candy out of his desk. Handing one to Partition, he sat and watched the big kid walk to the couch to sit himself.
Partition opened the can, had a bite, then grinned. "If I ever have an office again, I'm keeping candy in my desk," he said. "Both my brothers are doing great. They love the Home Guard. I don't know if they want to be medics but I invited them to class. They're coming tomorrow. Their boss is a great guy for letting them off for stuff."
Ratchet nodded, then grinned. "I heard that," he said as he considered the number of agreements he had made for Partition and his brothers among their bosses and supervisors. "That's good to know." They sat together bantering, then Ratchet rose to make his rounds. Partition would follow with him, observing, making remarks about what he saw and when he did, he would show Ratchet that he was a natural.
-0-Lucien
He had the orn off so he was at loose ends. Laslo was teaching, his children were working and he had no where to go. Standing on the street corner, he walked to a metro line to 'ride the rails' as some called it. There were lots of places he had never been so he decided to look around. Maybe walking through great urban centers, even if it wasn't Cybertron itself, would be a good tonic. He descended into the underground, then disappeared.
-0-Raptor and Keystock
He strode along the path leading to the camp with his aides and Keystock following. He had packed a ruck sack with heavy metallic bars that Raptor had ordered brought to his office. Before the youngling mechs could enter for their morning briefing, he had filled the bag and set it by the door. They then swarmed in with Keystock following. Tossing him some datapads and pointing to a desk in the corner of his office, Raptor grinned. "Input that data, infant. Be smart about it. We're going into the field today."
Keystock who looked as bland as impotent rage and eons of calculation could make walked to the desk and began. They were casualty figures. He stared at them a moment, then opened a screen. The data came up and as he opened a data sheet for himself, he noted others. Some of them had the glyphs and special ID marker of his brother, Cargo. Apparently, both of them were in for the shock treatment. A frisson of fear suffused him a moment, then was quashed ruthlessly as he gave his full attention to the problem at hand. It would be awful. It was casualty statistics for infants and babies.
Raptor worked about a joor with his four aides handling things that had come up overnight or needed a decision now. Then he stood up, his younglings rising with him. Looking over at Keystock, he grinned. "Up and at 'em, infant. We're bugging out." He looked at his mechs who were grinning at him, one of them rather worshipfully. "ROAD TRIP!" he said as they laughed loudly. Everyone walked to the door and the hallway outside. Raptor paused in the doorway and turned to Keystock. "Carry the bag, infant. Don't let it out of your sight. Don't open it. You don't want to see what's inside. Understand?" he asked.
Keystock nodded, then hefted the bag. It was really heavy as he shifted it to a shoulder. Raptor slapped his shoulder, then walked out with a grin. Keystock followed as they walked to the elevator and a ride into the wilderness of District 3. It would be a heavy load in more ways than one for Keystock to accompany him.
-0-Ironhide
He walked out of Hero's school having spent a joor there for his school participation. He had only one more left that was required but he had seven more kids. He would spend a half joor with each for the rest of the decaorn around his busy schedule, then probably have to pick up Ratchet's slag if things kept on the way they were going. Everyone was busy. Appa Raptor was filling him in from time-to-time about his new project and the old tricks, like 'tote the heavy backpack' and others to be named later. He grinned. Keystock would be begging for mercy on his knee assemblies before things were done. He walked from Titan's District Central Office Tower to the broad street beyond, the next school board meeting data in his subspace waiting for a review. The sun was up, it was only -75 and calm and the orn was young. He walked to the metro station nearby and entered, disappearing from sight.
-0-Turbine and Delphi
They worked in their respective districts doing the job of pulling Cybertron out of its sink hole. Turbine paused, then made a move. He waited, then heard the vent of frustration. :That was my move, Turbine: Delphi said over their internal link. :Fragger:
:Now, now: Turbine said as he waited for Delphi to make his move. They were playing the Cybertronian version of chess and as usual, Turbine was winning. Delphi made his move, then Turbine countered it.
:I would say a lot of blasphemous things, Turbine, but it would offend your pure sensibilities: Delphi said with a cheery tone.
:I thought you would know better by now, Delph. Nothing offends my sensibilities. I'm bonded with Raptor, after all:
Loud laughter reached Turbine. :There is that. MY SWEET BABY BOY! Your move, slagger:
Turbine chuckled as he walked to the shuttle to begin the ground tour of a new and rising camp on the south pole of the planet, an entourage of aides and other experts in tow. He would whip Delphi's aft.
Again.
And again.
And again.
-0-Prowl
He sat at his desk in his office down the hall from Ops Center in the Fortress. He was going over highly sensitive intel which required his seclusion during perusal. Some of it he had personally culled to make sure that the campaign in question would be smooth and successful. That was who he was, practical, thorough and ruthless when acquiring objectives. When he wanted to win, there was no obstacle. He didn't waste lives. He didn't take chances. He covered every base. He made sure that in the end, his side would win.
Prowl sat back after studying the information carefully, then grinned slightly. He slid the datapad into his desk drawer, then locked it. The data was highly classified and would be a serious breech of security if seen by unauthorized optics.
His security and the optics of anyone else anywhere.
If anyone saw the datapad marked 'Praxus Science Football' he'd be toast. After all, the season started next weekend and no one could know about his … intel.
No one.
Especially The Loser.
That one.
He grinned, then rose to go back to the Center and do his other job.
The door closed quietly behind him.
-0-Lucien
He got the heads up to meet at the Cafe d' Cybertron in Gambian at 1200 hours. It was his normal lunch time when he was at work and Laslo would be off shortly before for the rest of the orn unless he was having office hours. There were also the new projects Laslo was working on with Sciences about different building styles and plans for Cybertron that would make things better there. It wasn't top secret but it was time consuming. Without Laslo and his sons around, he was at loose ends.
Like right now.
He had ridden to the Crater District and was wandering through the city that was named Vilnacron. There were six others but they would be explored later. All of them had different designs but were arrayed around a big central square. It was usually vast, had seating areas and different art works to decorate its expansive spaces and even fountains. The 'water' spouting out or shimmering in large pools was usually a benign recycling substance that didn't explode or dissipate in near vacuum. It would flow upward and splash downward, landing in big pools where it would then re-enter the system. The newer cities were built with them and others were being added to existing ones now that the technology was perfected, albeit in smaller sizes and shapes.
He stood before one that geysered upward for what seemed a hundred feet. It feathered downward, its droplets shining with color in the light of the sun. It was mesmerizing and comforting. He stared at it for a while, then continued onward. The Museum Annex that every city had beckoned so he entered. It was quiet and calming. A small class was nearby, a Circle daycare center it would seem. They were walking with aides and their teacher, the tiny children looking at the art works and exhibits as they were taken around. They were learning who they really were. It was somehow comforting to know that they would be aware they were from an ancient fabled race.
He watched them, then walked toward the art gallery. Entering, he felt something of home overcome him, something of the galleries in Iacon and Capital City that were the glory of their species. He knew that the galleries and museums had hidden their works safely but it surprised him that the material had apparently been recovered. He walked toward a huge over-sized image of Prima. That god was standing on a rocky plain. The background was less significant for the painter than the image of the luminous and wondrous figure before him.
He stared at it, at the wise and caring optics of their warrior god. Prima loved them. He bore the great sword, the Star Saber and it was easy to see in its hilt the Matrix which bore the spark of their creator, Primus the Wise, Primus the Good. He stared at it, then moved to the next. A larger than life size image of Solus hung in glory next to Prima. She was gloriously beautiful. Her long silvery neural net fell from her helm in a thick sheet well past her slender waist. One of the few to favor garments, her silver and purple cloak hung in a cloud around her. She floated in space, her slender servo gripping her glorious forge as she stared out at the world with a loving gaze.
He moved onward, noting the massive masculinity of Onyx Prime who loved them dearly, amusement in the face of Micronus, the steadfast diligence and eternal wisdom of Solomus. The greats were all here in the Gallery of Heroes. The Guiding Hand and the Primus stories were met here with the greatest art representations of them available. That the genuine works were in the Museum of Cybertron in Autobot City and these were digital representations of almost superhuman quality in luxurious frames didn't detract from their glory. Every museum had the same things available to them that the main one had, either in digital representation or copies of terrifying exactness. What set every annex apart were the different things added to their local collection that were specific to the named city and city-state that hosted them. There was an entire series of rooms where the glory of Vilnacron was shown to exquisite glory … a room filled with the most delicate and intricate glass work and china ever created on Cybertron. It would be shown in other museums and their annexes as digital and copied representations, some of them by their original creators or their chosen heirs. Here, though, they would be the real thing.
Lucien walked through the first gallery, pausing in the midst of delicate creations artfully lit. The room was empty and silent as he stood beneath a crystal chandelier like one that hung in the Hall of Entry to the Grand Imperium in Capital City. It had a discreet tag that said it was a representation of the original that was made by the same family of craftsmen that had created the original and was donated to the museum by them and the fraternal group, Friends of Vilnacron as well as the Art Guild of Mars, Cybertron and the Primal Empire. It was massive and hand carved. Each large crystal threw light on the floor and around the room, reminding him of all the times he had paused to stare at it in the Grand Imperium. It was considered a national treasure and as he stared at this one he felt a pang that the original was lost.
Staring around himself, he walked past the exhibits. There was china from the Primal Residence, recovered miraculously from a near direct hit to the store house where all the important household furniture and antiques were stored pending use. The Primal seal was on these and he wondered if Optimus used them himself on this planet. There were glass objects, those carved from precious gems and crystal in artfully arranged collections, the direct light upon them pressing the room he was in into the background. All that mattered was himself, the exhibit and the sparkling light from the chandelier overhead.
He walked on.
-0-Ironhide
He walked into the Ops Center, then pulled a chair to sit. "What's going on?" he asked as he flipped out his report on the armory for Prowl. He was due there but would detour as long as possible away from the datapad stacked confines of his office and the no nonsense mastery of Holi Who Must Be Obeyed.
"It's all pretty quiet. The pirates are augmenting. I directed scans that direction and expect better intel shortly. Imperialis is regrouping. An alien trading group passing through mentioned activity out that way. Energon mining is paramount and they caught sight of ships coming and going to three different planetoids in the broken field near the nebula. Apparently, the pickings are there."
"Too bad," Ironhide said. "We're going to have to slag them again. I dibs Ebio."
"I dibs you," a voice said behind him.
Ironhide looked up into the bemused optics of Holi. He looked at Prowl with a frown. That mech was grinning at him as he lounged in his chair, his arms folded over his chassis. "Fragger. You're supposed to warn a mech."
"Sorry. I forgot the Guy Code," Prowl said as Holi gripped Ironhide's finial.
He arose, then frowned down at her. "Ow."
"Oh," Holi said. "Do you want me to kiss your boo-boo?"
"Sure," Ironhide said with a big grin.
"Okay. I'll run it by Ratchet," Holi said.
"NO!" Ironhide said. He shot a mean look at Prowl, then walked toward the door, Holi in tow. "FRAGGING TRAITORS! I AM IRONHIDE! I DEFY MY ENEMIES!"
"I have fudge and cookies," Holi said as Ironhide opened the door for her.
"Well, that's different," he said as they walked through the door and disappeared.
Prowl watched them, then laughed aloud. "Slaggers," he said, then want back to the business at hand.
-0-Prime
He stepped off his shuttle at the south pole of Cybertron, then walked to Raptor and his crew who were watching with great amusement. They shook servos, then Raptor filled him in. This was the second village settlement they had arrived to attend. The first had been awful, a place filled with sick and injured including a lot of children. They had been camping too close to an unstable and undisclosed munitions pile below a huge pile of rubble and when one rolled off the hidden stack, it blew everything up. There were deceased and there were injured. A huge medical presence was there led by Goldwing. They had helped with the dead, something Keystock had never done before, then assisted with other tasks, all of them grim and filled with wailing and moans of the injured, especially babies and infants. By the time they left, Keystock toting the backpack, the big mech was grim with emotion. Now they were at another place, less terrible, with Prime present. He was glad he elected to be silent. All he wanted to do was rant and rave.
Prime listened to the update, then the group with Keystock in tow walked toward the town site nearby. A local welcoming group was waiting to receive them with almost sickening gratitude. Prime glanced at Raptor. :I see you have him carrying the backpack:
:You have nothing wrong with your optics, Optimus: Raptor said with a grin and a wink. :Nothing wrong at all:
They continued onward into the town, toured it, took a long list of needs that would be filled before sundown, then sat and talked to the inhabitants. Keystock would sit next to Raptor and hear every word. What it ultimately meant to him was as yet unknown.
-0-1200 hours, the Cafe 'd Cybertron in Gambian
Ratchet sat in the front booth of the Cafe 'd Cybertron with Partition waiting for Lucien and Laslo to arrive. Through the door, Inweld and Morius strode, stared around, then smiled as they joined Partition and Ratchet. "Hi," Partition said with a smile. "How was work?"
"Great. We're helping vet proposals by Earth firms to work here. It's interesting," Morius said as Inweld nodded. They chatted a moment, then Lucien and Laslo walked in to look around.
They spotted everyone, then walked over. Making room and pulling up a chair, everyone sat. Ratchet grinned at both. "You look well, Laslo. How are things for you?"
"I'm well, thank you," he said. "I'm working on some plans with Sciences for Cybertron's long term future."
"Are you including your students? Partition, here, makes the rounds with me in the morning. He's coming along extremely well as a field medic. Maybe some fine orn, he might try becoming a doctor," Ratchet said as Partition basked in the praise.
Partition looked at his genitors. "I really like it. If anyone gets hurt in the family, I can take care of you."
"That sounds wonderful, son," Laslo said honestly. "We don't have a doctor in the family. What a great desire to pursue something so helpful."
Partition glanced at his brothers. "I asked Mori and Inweld to join me for a class to see if they like it. You do know they joined the Home Guard, too, right?"
Inweld and Morius glanced at Ratchet, then their genitors. Obviously, they hadn't let Lucien and Laslo know yet. Maybe his presence emboldened the infants. Ratchet watched the two carefully.
Laslo looked shocked, then glanced at Lucien. He looked at his sons. "Do you think you want to do that?" he asked.
"I don't know, Ada. Partition wants me to see. He really likes it and he likes the idea if someone gets hurt he can help. I … I'm just curious, that's all," Inweld said as Morius nodded.
It was quiet a second, then Laslo smiled. "I'm proud of you. Always thinking about the future. What a fine and noble idea."
The three boys nearly sagged with relief, then looked at their father who was calm and without expression. "You three are grown. What you choose to do is for you to decide," he said non committally.
They looked at him, then each other. "I love it. I want to help our people and Cybertron. I like helping the old people."
"Being a good elder care specialist or doctor is a calling, not a profession or career choice," Ratchet said. "You'd be good at whatever you choose."
It was quiet a moment, then they ordered. It got quiet again.
"What's this I hear about Keystock and Cargo? I heard that they're now assigned to Raptor and Hardie," Lucien asked.
Ratchet nodded. "That's right. Cargo is an aide to Hardie and Raptor took on Keystock when he decided a caste court was smarter than regular law."
"Well, who would know more about that than you?" Lucien said with a faint trace of bitterness.
Ratchet grinned as everyone else tensed. "Yes. Me, the low caste. Who would know better the ins and outs of high caste fraggery than me? I think it might be really good and healing for you to try a little harder, Lucien, and help Laslo and these three wonderful younglings here feel better about their efforts to find their way. After all, its your rules and system that makes me have to think about you and your family dynamic. So far, Laslo and the boys are rising up like a phoenix from the ashes. I'm slagging proud of them. You're the slagger stuck in the muck. These four," he said glancing at the boys and Laslo, "are to be applauded. They live in the 'now'. You live in the 'then'. You're bonded with a futurist and you still think that the past can be resurrected for the present. What's done is done and what's lost is lost … lost and gone forever. I'm going to order you to counseling to assist you on living in the real world and not the land that time forgot. When we leave here, you and I are going to visit Vinn. He has great luck with lost causes."
It was extremely still and silent a moment, then Lucien sat back. "I have no choice, do I."
"No. You have none by the very rules of the thing you want back." Ratchet looked at the others. "You are my heroes. Laslo, I know its hard and you're trying. Here's the way to succeed. Are you ready to hear it?"
Laslo glanced at the others, then nodded. "Yes. I am"
Ratchet nodded, then leaned closer. "Love your sons, your bond, your people, your world, all life everywhere more than you love yourself. Its that simple. Then it all falls into place."
It was silent for a moment, then food came. They sat back, got their meals and ate with only the most innocuous and simplistic conversation possible.
-0-Outside on the street after lunch
The three youngsters stared at their genitors and Ratchet with a sense of tension and hopefulness. Ratchet turned to the three. "What's on the agenda, boys?" he asked.
"I have to go to medic classes. My brothers are coming, right?" Partition asked as he turned to them.
They glanced at their genitors, then nodded. "We are," Morius said firmly.
"Good," Ratchet grinned. He turned to Lucien and Laslo. "What's on yours?"
"I have to go to Sciences to work on the new projects," Laslo said. "Then we get together for dinner and the races." He looked at his sons and Lucien. "Right?" he asked as all four nodded. He looked relieved.
"What about you, Lucien? You're mine, correct?" Ratchet asked.
"I have no choice," Lucien said as he nodded his helm.
"Great!" Ratchet said with a giant smile. "Hug your ada and go, infants. Go and sin no more."
The three grinned at Ratchet, then hugged their genitors and Ratchet, too, for good measure. They waved, then walked to the metro line to disappear below. "Our turn," Ratchet said as he led the way to the metro line. Laslo would take off from the Central Labor Hall metro station for Sciences three stops eastward on the line that led to The Fortress, the prison and science installations beyond the city.
Ratchet watched him go with a wave, then turned to Lucien. "Come on, slagger. Time to see if there's anything inside your chassis that's worth saving." Ratchet walked up the stairs to the first floor, then down the corridor toward Vinn's private practice that specialized in soldiers, their families and high castes. Lucien reluctantly followed him.
-0-TBC 10-15-17 edited 12-09-17
ESL:
frisson: (I believe its pronounced free-zoh. French speakers can correct if wrong-ish) :D French for shiver
Goosebumps are called piloerections. Music and cold cause this involuntary reaction and so can the presence of ghosts. :D (I speak from personal experience growing up in a haunted house.) :D:D:D:D:D
involuntary: (in-vohl-un-tari) Something that happens without your consent or will. Like goosebumps. Voluntary is the opposite. Something that happens because you want it. Like eating a piece of chocolate cake last night which I may or not have done. I think that sort of falls either way. It was an involuntary reaction to chocolate which I voluntarily ate. Sort of. I plead the fifth amendment. ;)
(Pleading the fifth means you refuse to answer the question due to the fact that it might incriminate you)
incriminate: to admit or to show that someone did something wrong. Standing over a dead person with a smoking gun in hand is incriminating.
There. I don't think there are anymore words that might be new to ESL speakers. :D WE'RE FULL SERVICE HERE! :D:D:D