The Diego Diaries: Moving Onward Again (dd6 165)
-0-At Ad Seg
AU Waldeen glowered at Ratchet and Ironhide as they stood before his pen. He had not yet gotten out. When he was ready to be removed, he would strike out in his impotent rage, then end up extending his time inside. Ratchet scanned him. "You're disgustingly healthy."
"You're disgusting," Waldeen snapped.
"You're never going to get out of this pen, slagger, unless you step up," Ratchet replied. "Even Bumblebee is out."
He glared at both, then looked beyond them to a cell block where Bumblebee lounged on a chair. "That slagger? I could take him."
"If this were Garrus 9 on your side of the line, that would have happened by now. This isn't your old atar's prison," Ratchet said as he and Ironhide walked away. They ignored his screaming as they walked to the cell block that held Bumblebee. His other cellie was inside the barracks but it was easy to get the word on him by scanning long distance. The mini-con sitting in the chair staring at them with a calculating expression wasn't their own. "You'll both live. Anything you want?" Ratchet asked.
Bee grinned at them. "A beer. And someone to keep me company. I'm so lonely." He laughed, a harsh sound, then stood. Walking to the bars, he looked at both of them. "I could easily kill you. It wouldn't be hard. I've learned a lot of things over the vorns. I've been in some pretty terrible places and walked away."
"I bet you have," Ratchet said calmly. He wondered about this one, this enigma standing before him. His physical attributes were sound but there was a low grade buzz in his processor. It indicated damage from who the frag knew what. "You're a stone killer aren't you."
Bee nodded. "I'm good at it. It doesn't bother me. I go where I'm supposed to go and do what I'm told to do. No one cares. They let me break things for fun."
"What about Optimus? I suppose he didn't mind, either," Ratchet said.
Bee shrugged. "What about my double here? Tell me about him?"
"What makes you think he exists, slagger?" Ironhide asked.
"Intuition," the cold little shrimp replied. He grinned but there was no warmth, no mirth, nothing of the wiseacre little bot that everyone loved to death. This Bee was a dangerous individual.
"He exists," Ratchet said. "He's a soldier and a slagging fine one. He's in a bond with the Protectobot, First Aid."
"He is, is he?" Bee considered that. "Tell him something for me, okay?"
Ratchet shrugged. "Maybe, slagger. What is it?"
Bee grinned. "Tell him that I helped kill First Aid and his brothers. They were Decepticons. I wasn't."
"Lucky you," Ratchet replied.
"Yeah. I'm slagging lucky. What about letting me out?" Bee asked with a tight grin on his face. "Maybe that Bee and I can have a chat about mutual interests."
"Maybe I can put a gun up your aft and pull the trigger," Ironhide said.
"That's an option, too," Bee said seriously. Then he laughed uproariously. He looked at Ironhide with a smirk. "How do you like the idea of Ironhide fragging Springer?" He looked at Ratchet. "You were a mass murderer. You liked it. What a piece of work you are."
"Coming from you, that's a compliment," Ratchet said as he turned away to walk onward. Ironhide followed as Bee sat back down. They could feel his optics on them as they walked toward the next cell.
"That little shrimp is going to get slagged by me some fine orn," Ironhide said as the prisoners in the next cell stepped down from the porch and walked to the fence.
"That little slagger has some serious processor damage. I don't know what it means but I'm going to find out," Ratchet said as he paused in front of the cell across from Bee. AU Ratchet, Perceptor, and Wheeljack stood together giving Ratchet and Ironhide the once over. Ratchet scanned them. "You're all doing well. How's the processor? Still plotting dominion of the universe or are you trending back to normals-ville now?"
They looked at him with genuine hatred. AU Ratchet smirked slightly. "What a stupid paint scheme."
"For this place? I agree. I'd have to adopt one like yours to fit into prison as well as you. This might be a bit gauche for the Big House," Ratchet replied. Nothing about the figure before him felt real.
"Is that so?" AU Ratchet replied.
"Well … since you're in prison and I'm not …" Ratchet said, his voice trailing off. "Tell me within reason if there's anything you need?"
They glanced to each other, then back to Ratchet and Ironhide. "Your helm on a platter?" Perceptor asked.
Ratchet smirked at him, then looked at Wheeljack. "You okay with these idiots or what?"
Wheeljack looked at Ratchet, then shrugged. "How would I know? I don't even know what this is."
"What's the story on us here? Do we live here or what? What about us?" AU Ratchet asked.
Ironhide smirked at his own Ratchet. "He's as nosy as you are."
Ratchet gave Ironhide a dazzling smile. "No one is that nosy," he said, then looked at the three. "Our Percy and 'Jack are our top scientists and they're bonded. They have a son, Resolve. They're tops in our books. As for you and me, a couple of things. I'm bonded with Ironhide and have about 34 children. I also run medicine and diplomacy for the entire Empire. And last but not least, I'm better looking," Ratchet said, then turned from them to walk onward.
Ironhide grinned at him, then looked at the three. "I agree," he said, then walked onward himself.
The three watched them, then glanced at each other. "I'm bonded with you?" AU Perceptor said as he stared at Wheeljack. "Not likely. As for an infant ..." he said, then looked at the retreating figures of Ironhide and Ratchet, "Resolve is … was my father's name."
"Odd," AU Ratchet said. "Nice taste in names," he said glancing at Percy, "but terrible taste in bots," he finished as he looked at Wheeljack. The three nearly came to blows.
-0-Cybertron, another dimensional aspect
Megatron sat at the command desk going over the thousands of details that a Prime managed in the best of orns. It was, actually. When Primus gave His blessing and healed Himself for the benefit of His people, it had simplified things almost beyond believing. There weren't huge projects to reclaim from the rubble. There was resurrection for everyone.
Maybe everyone.
Prowl had stood by his side all through the intervening time from the moment when things were retaken until now. He was efficient, quiet, structured, closed off, and dedicated. No one could hope for someone this talented and determined for a partner in a project than Prowl. Megatron, himself, lived in The Residence here in Iacon with his genitors and two brothers. They had been safely secured during the war but now were finding comforts in the care of their son.
They were hard working, helping their ambitious son in his business making parts for heavy equipment. They had been secure, as secure as anyone could be in a swamp of corruption like things were. They were now living in a good place, eating decent food regularly and working the fear out of their system for themselves and their son.
The sound of ped falls caught his attention as Sixshot and Black Shadow came across the room with Blue Bacchus in tow. They paused before the table, then pulled seats out. Parking themselves, they nodded to Prowl. "Megatron, we have the prisoners. They tried to get off world but the net dropped on them. We barely beat a mob to where they were hiding."
"Where are they now?" Megatron asked.
"We have them in central holding in Kaon. I'm wondering if you've heard from Prime yet?" Black Shadow asked.
"I have a message in. He is aware of our pursuit and has agreed to take them. Who did we get in the trap?" Megatron asked.
Black Shadow grinned. "Hot Rod, Bluestreak, Rook, the twins, Blurr, and Kup."
Megatron looked relieved. "Well done. Give my congratulations to everyone involved. I will contact Prime and let him know."
-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Primal Colony of Mars, Cybertron and the Empire
Prowl considered the message, then rose to walk to Prime's office down the corridor nearby. It was a long walk to the huge office that was Prime's, one expanded from the smaller one built below ground in the original incarnation. Prowl entered as Prime looked up from work. "What is it?"
Prowl handed Prime the datapad. "We have a list of new prisoners. I asked Gee-Gee to expand the prison for more and she's been ready to receive for about three orns. What do you want to say?"
"Tell them to come. We'll receive them. Have everyone ready," Optimus said. Prowl nodded, then turned to go. "Prowl, what do you make of Bluestreak being here?"
Prowl glanced at Prime. "I don't know. I just know this one is a menace."
Optimus nodded, then watched as Prowl exited the room. In three joors, a ship from an alternate dimension, one bearing the fused image of Autobot and Decepticon would be landing on the prison landing strip with another load of very dangerous prisoners.
-0-Entering The Fortress fully armed
Raptor, Hard Drive, Blackjack, and Flint walked through the bridges from their different locations, then headed upstairs. They would meet up with Ratchet, Ironhide, Prime, Prowl, Hercy, Kup, Bumblebee, Sandstorm, a nervous Bezel, and a silent but attentive Lon. All of them were armed to the teeth and after a word with Prime, the entire group walked out the door to the highway beyond with Optimus. It would be a grim group walking the three miles to the prison.
-0-Landing at the tarmac
Gee-Gee and her wardens, Cirio and Centaur, the Supervisor Warden, Colius, who managed the business end of things, paperwork and programs, along with the biggest baddest aft mechs from the special teams waited for the ships to disgorge their cargo. They were waiting to do that until Prime and his group arrived. They would shortly, then gather together with Gee-Gee to clear what they would have to do. When the plan was in order, the mechs arrayed themselves in a big half circle while the four Praxians stood with Prime, Flint, Prowl, Ratchet, and Gee-Gee.
The hatch opened and a mech appeared, Sixshot in all his glory. Everyone watched him and Black Shadow steer a mech downward, a mech who looked like Bluestreak but wasn't him. This mech had mean optics and a cloud of fury around him that they could see in his aura. He was heavily manacled, sullen and ready for mayhem. He was brought to the line where he stood, staring at everyone with calculation. Behind him, chained in extra cuffs, the twins followed. They were big, mean, covered in scars and didn't look right in the optics. They were smoldering with rage and suppressed mayhem, joining Bluestreak on the line.
It was still a moment, then Blue Bacchus led a mech out, one wearing suppressant gear. He was Blurr and because he was the fastest thing in two dimensions, he wore glowing suppressant gear on his knees and ankles. There would be no way he could run now with that short circuiting his neural nets just enough to allow him to walk and nothing more. He was placed beside the twins. Hot Rod was next, his egomania on full display as he grudgingly joined the others. He stared at Prime with a smirk and cold dead optics.
Rook was next, a slim sleek mech with a powerful aura. He was a broadcaster and a fast talker. He was faster with a knife, his specialty besides talking you out of your optics, was a hoarder of other people's wealth when he set them up to fall and the major propagandist for Prime. If someone fragged Prime off, Rook brought them down, then showcased their trials and executions. He was good at it, had no conscience and was incredibly feared.
Last, but not least, the figure of Kup appeared. He looked half mad but it was clear to Ratchet that he was abusing substances. He had the cygar but who knew what was in it. It was enough to make him a holy terror and a ruthless leader of armies against anyone and anything that got in his way, intentionally and reasonably, or not. He halted on the line, then it was silent as Gee-Gee stepped closer to inspect them. She walked up and down the line making a point of looking at them like they were furniture or devices, rather than beings. When she stopped, she shook her helm. "What a sorry aft collection of specimens you lot are."
It was then that Sideswipe lashed out his ped.
-0-TBC 10-20-17 edited 10-24-17 edited again 1-20-18
propagandist: someone who pushes propaganda or state sponsored lies