The Diego Diaries: Playah (dd6 219) All hail guest for finding the plot hole. I will try and not write these at night when my thinker is dented. Hugs to all!

-0-In the Ops Center

"When is Christmas Surprise?"

Prowl glanced toward Tactical where Smokescreen was sitting. He was looking at a datapad as he waited for a signal to return on a testing run for Tactical throughout the base and array systems of their local group. "In nine orns its Christmas Surprise Eve. The kids get out the morning of Christmas Surprise as usual after Santa Prime and the rest show up." He grinned slightly. "You're aware of the horse-pulled wagons in the cities?"

"I am," Smokescreen said. "They decorated all of them up for the season."

"Santa Prime is going to arrive at the schools in one of them," Prowl said. "We're going to make it more real that way."

"The kids will love it," Smokescreen said.

"We're planning to do it when they gave a general recess and everyone in the school is on the playground. They can see him arriving with the elves and a bag of gifts. The bag is just going to be stuffed with filler. The gifts will come the usual way," Prowl said. "This way they can see Santa arriving with this … sled."

"That's going to be outstanding," Smokescreen said. "I almost wish Smokey was a little kid again."

Prowl grinned. "My only wish is that the slaggers out there don't make a mess of this."

"You and me both," Smokescreen said as he turned to the console to gather the data and send a tracer signal through the lines to Cybertron. The tests were going well.

-0-Cybertron

They gathered at the city's edge of Helex. The former first capital of the Decepticons before Kaon usurped that distinction, it was one of the first five cities to fall to the 'Cons when the war began in earnest. Now, it was a slowly rising desolation just like everywhere else. It was nondescript, actually, no more interesting or dynamic than any other large urban area. It had been a place where Decepticons and Autobots could co-exist, mostly because The Triumvirate who was in charge of this place were corrupt, spent their time and money on gladiatorial games and frivolous pastimes and less on doing their job, like keeping Autobots out of their fortress city, the slaggers.

Now, they sat on piles of bricks sharing their lunches with a few of the local kids. Raptor and Hard Drive had flown in while Ironhide had bridged. Their entourages were gathered here, most of them friends or working acquaintances. They sat in small groups eating and drinking food that had come from Mars while the locals told them about the area. It was coming along. No one was hungry here anymore and the medical teams stationed around the area were doing a good job of making hurts better and/or forwarding the needy onward to Hammer of Primus, the closest metro-titan to this location. The children played, then chased off after their genitors as the locals were called back by siren to work.

For them, lunch was over and life rising from the ashes beckoned. The group watched them go.

"I like their spirit," Raptor said. "They feel better."

Hardie nodded. "They do," he said. "The locals around the areas we've been to are doing a lot better. The tents are Primus-sent and incredibly appreciated. They were living in hovels made from scrap or tunnels in the craters." He vented a sigh. "This is such slag."

"It'll get better, Appa," Ironhide said. "We have the planet and every orn that passes where the people are fed, housed and fixed up is an orn Megatron will never get back." Ironhide glanced at Cargo and Keystock who were sitting nearby eating their lunches, too. "What do you two have in mind for Christmas Surprise? Depending on the circumstances, we get three orns off."

Cargo glanced at him. "We're going to the games and races. That's about it."

Ironhide nodded. "Blur and the Velocitronians are making some amazing cards. I might go myself."

"Someone said they might re-institute the Speedia 500," Hardie said. "I'd go see that. That much speed is a work and wonder."

The others nodded. Raptor glanced at Keystock. "Tell me what you've seen, infant. I want your perspective. Sometimes, it helps to have outside optics. You stay too long in this and you miss important things."

Keystock paused the bottle in his hand halfway to his mouth. "Lots of destruction. Lots of people living rough. More building than I expected."

Raptor nodded. "Your people are from where? Capital City?"

Keystock nodded. "Some."

"Have you ever been there?" Hard Drive asked.

"Not since I was small. I don't remember it much," Keystock said. "You were never there," he said to his brother who said nothing.

"Would you remember your area?" Hard Drive asked.

"We had a house in the Camber District, on the hill by Government House," Keystock replied.

"Embassy Row, then," Raptor said. Keystock nodded. "I'm going there today to inspect. You two are coming with me." He glanced at his father. "I'll take them on my inspection rounds, Atar. Give you a rest."

Hard Drive grinned slightly. "Mighty nice of you, son," he said as he glanced at the two stone-faced youngsters. "By the way," he said glancing at his great grandson, "Hand over the baby."

Ironhide paused his own bottle halfway to his mouth, then grinned slightly. "Don't tell old mech. He'd used his frying pan on my helm," he said as the mechs around him laughed. Reaching in, he pulled out a swaddled infant in a white Seeker carry bag who had a fuzzy white hat on her helm, its strings tied into a bow. It was covered in snowflakes, each of them sparkling with a silver glittery effect. She was dozing but awakened slightly as she was handed from her father to her great grandfather. Her beautiful copper and silver stranded 'hair' cascaded off his hand as he held her. "Ah, my little muffin," he said as he stood up. Settling her on the crook of his arm, Hard Drive turned slowly. "See this, baby? This is your spark's home. This is the very body of Primus who gave up everything for us in an act of selfless love so profound that words can't do it justice."

He turned slowly, then paused in the direction of the mass camp where their people lived, bathed in light along the horizon several miles away. "That's the treasure of our species, The People. They're the only thing that matters. We can write more books. We can paint more pictures. We can create any kind of civilization that we want. Primus is never in doubt. We stand on Him. He comes to us at Festival and loves us unconditionally. The One gives us His blessing. We are loved deeply and truly. What we can't replace, redraw, repaint, or recreate is our people. They are pearls of great price, our greatest and most esteemed treasure. You, my little Halo, can't be replaced." He looked at her as she stared back, her little blue optics focusing on him in the all-too-bright light of the shuttles. "You're the reason we do what we do, all these endless vorns. We waited for you to find us and now, we will die so that you can live if it comes to that. Nothing by anyone will prevent you from having the best life possible. You know why?" he asked her. She smiled. He laughed. "Why, you ask ..." he said with a smile. "Because you live. That's why."

They stared at the lights beyond, then Hardie walked to the pile of bricks and sat again. "This little femme is a caution. She's going to be in University before you know it. She smiled at me."

"She's a bit of a wonderment," Ironhide agreed as the mechs all around grinned including her great great grandfather. "This is her first Christmas Surprise. It's going to be fun."

"I think so," Hard Drive said. "What else do we labor for but them? Them and the rest?"

No one said anything aloud but the murmurs of the soldiers and civilian aides with the generals were clear about their agreement. They would finish their lunch, then Ironhide would return to Mars with his daughter to continue in the armory. Hard Drive would continue toward the north to review the situation and trouble shoot problems. Raptor would head for Capital City with Keystock and Cargo in tow.

He wasn't going to go there originally. He asked them for personal data so he could impart his portion of the lessons that they as 'projects' of the Praxians would have to learn this day. They boarded their shuttles, Keystock carrying the heavy rucksack of metallic bars, then lifted off to go to the political capital of Cybertron. They disappeared almost immediately into the dark sky.

-0-Ratchet

He walked out of the building having gotten things organized for the possible deployment of medical teams, caught up on the paperwork for the hospitals on-world and on Gliese 581 g. The structure in place was doing heroic work and so were his teams and staff, both in and out of medical facilities. He had orders on his desk for medical and mental health reviews of Sunee and Sio which were coming up along with three others who were looking to be released as outpatients.

He also had to plan for several big dinners, one being Christmas Surprise Eve at their apartment and then Christmas Surprise Day at Prime's. The traditions, they burned, my precious. He grinned as he walked to the Mall of Metroplex to spend a few moments doing something 'normal'. Then he had to high tail it to the schools to get in his joors. He walked into the crowds and was gone from sight.

-0-Capital City, Cybertron

They walked through the cleared streets, ones that were beautiful and broad once, rather as famous in their own way here as the boulevards of Paris were on Earth. Lamp posts which were famous in the Golden Age fashion when they were first erected were missing, victims of bombings and war. The ornate and beautiful buildings that lined either side of the broad streets with their dividing islands and foot bridges that arched over the traffic were pockmarked and broken. The bridges were gone as well. It was a hard thing to see, this most beautiful and elegant city laid so low.

Cargo looked everywhere as they walked along, straining to see some semblance of the city he knew from pictures and fond stories of his family and friends, a city that didn't exist anymore. Keystock who had actually been here in his early youth found it hard to bear, that such a great urban center should be reduced to this. They passed the High Imperium, the House of the Senate without a word. The staircase leading up was divoted, the building missing a roof and the statues of the greats and Pantheon missing in their niches. It was heartbreaking to see.

They continued onward as Raptor took meetings on the fly with local leaders and soldiers who were here full time in the reconstruction. He asked good questions, paused to look at this and that before hoofing it onward again, then made sure that wishes and needs of the locals were noted to be met. By the time they reached the edge of the Camber District, most of the conversations had been concluded. They paused at the big gates that kept the riffraff out of the high caste enclave, something that would be a pattern everywhere that high castes congregated to live. It made sure that the lower castes weren't granted admittance but it also kept out assassins, disgruntled employees, citizens, and others with grudge and harassment issues. The tide of humanity, as it were, outside the wrought iron fences had been huge and growing angrier every passing orn. This was their frail bulwark against inevitability.

Raptor monitored the tense mechs following, gauging their readings against his experience with helping reform slaggers. Praxians were known and prone as some said to take on lost causes. They showed them 'the error of their ways' and many a mech or femme found a better life because of it. The family had taken on Keystock and Cargo because Ratchet had done the same. They didn't ruin two families when Ratchet and Ironhide bonded.

Raptor stepped forward walking down the broken gravel and paving stones into the once wide and well maintained street that wound through the district. Tall buildings with multiple families, some single owner homes and huge towers filled the area. It housed the rich, powerful and important. Anyone who was anyone in government and media lived here. Industrialists and other businessmen had homes here to live in when they came to get the government to do their bidding. The social scene here was glittering and few places short of Iacon could muster a greater social season.

The broken glass of someone's home crunched underfoot as they walked onward. The area had been cleared of debris in the streets but the houses and towers were still a wreck. Raptor knew where he was going. He had done his homework. Burris and his family had a home nearby, one on the fourth floor of a very old and ornate building that stood on the street, one with a history that was fabled and furnishings said to be breathtaking. They were headed that way. Raptor was going to test their mettle, the two youngsters with him. He would see what they would say and do when they reached their bombed out home.

-0-Mall of Metroplex, the Grocery

He pushed a cart as he went down his list. He would make prime rib and 'the fixin's, Ratchet' for the big lug and the infants. He gathered three of them because he was hungry himself and he fed three or even maybe nine big boys as well as the shorties. Gathering sides, vegetables, a huge sheet cake with the emblems of Mars and Cybertron in the thick frosting, he picked up what he needed for two breakfasts, two lunches and the two dinners. After that, everyone was on their own. He grinned. / … sure, Ratchet … sure …/ He rolled his massively heavily laden cart toward the general vicinity of checkout, thanking Primus that they had a delivery network from businesses in the colony that had no parallel in the solar system. He would be a bit of time in line.

-0-Ironhide

:What's happening?:

:They're staring at their old home:

:What do they think? Anything?: Ironhide asked his father as Hardie listened in as well.

:I don't know yet, infant. Give it a moment: Raptor said as he watched two youngling mechs staring at the home that was once theirs, one that was burnt out and broken down. The huge windows, some of them stained glass were long gone and so were the ornate copper placards by the door that told who lived here and described their Houses. Both his ada and atar came from famous families, Anders from wealthy industrialists and Burris from a powerful wealthy political and military dynasty.

Now, it lay shattered, the walls crumbled, the dark shattered windows staring back at them with a weariness that was notable. The street was swept but there were weeds growing in the gaps of the sidewalks, something both mechs knew their family would never tolerate.

Keystock let the backpack slide to the ground. "Is it safe to enter?"

"No. You won't find anything in there. What was left and not destroyed or stolen was gathered by the museums and cultural rescue teams. You can go to the museum annex in your city back on Mars and ask to see if you have anything left. Just give your address," Raptor said.

"Why did you bring us here? Cargo was never here," Keystock said as he stared at the husk of his former home. "What was the point of this but to make us feel bad?"

Raptor turned to the two. "Does it make you feel anything? That would be a victory. Your selfishness is so boiler plate on you that any sort of normal feeling for this would be a welcome change. Imagine the loss. You lost a lot of stuff didn't you."

Keystock glanced at him, then turned to face Raptor. Cargo stared at him, then Raptor. "We lost everything. Our home, our belongings that couldn't be carried away … the art in our house was irreplaceable and the windows? They were ancient."

Raptor nodded. "I lost everything, too. So did everyone else. You've seen the people now, how they live, the suffering … they lost everything. They had nothing to start with and now they have less. You lost a lot of slag but then you had more than one house. You might think you lost everything but you have no idea. You lost nothing." Raptor turned to his mechs. "Gas up the hog. We're going to Iacon." He looked at the two. "Keep up." With that, he walked onward back the way he came, heading for the ship and the short trip to Iacon. After a moment of hesitation and a last glance at their old house, Cargo and Keystock began to follow.

-0-Pioneer School, Metro-titan, Metro District #3

Ratchet sat on a chair watching as Hero and Ferie worked on their writing. The six children in the class was the top end of enrollment. He thought about Praxus being here and almost shuddered. Little mech was too young for this. The idea of either Hero or Praxus being promoted to Youngling Day sort of wilted his lettuce. It was peaceful here watching the infants work and when he was finished, he walked to the metro nearby to take a train to Centurion. It was time to watch a little Seeker do his best with a roomful of humans and Cybertronians. It would be math time and it would be lots of fun.

-0-Iacon

They walked down the narrow winding streets of Iacon heading into the Jumble. The gate with the sign overhead that said, "The Cooper District of Iacon, Sector 4" which was the official name of the slum was still there rusty and dented from being hit by gunfire. The district had had a lot of hand-to-hand fighting but was spared the big bombing campaigns that had leveled so many places. This was where Ravel and Tie Down had lived and worked all through the occupation. Raptor knew where he was going and when he arrived, they all halted before a dilapidated building, one that was old and weary with age and use.

Pulling open the door that led inside, he entered and the others followed. It was then that they began to climb the stairs. The elevators, long since given up even when Cybertron was young, were mute testimony to the level of neglect that everyone living here had to endure. The contrast of this place to the house in the Camber District was amazing. Up and around they went until they reached the 22nd floor. Walking down a dark hallway lit only by the light filtering in from the broken window down at the street end of it, Raptor reached a door, then turned to the others. "We're going in. It's a tight squeeze. How about you two infants coming in with me?" he asked Keystock and Cargo.

Keystock dropped the bag next to the wall, then followed Raptor through the scarred door into a musty smelling room. It had a couch, long and battered, a shelf for whatnot and a table against a wall. There was another room attached that held a sagging old bed and a dresser near the only other window in the place. It was broken out as well. The smell of mold could be determined from eons of neglect and acid rain coming through the windows. A small makeshift kitchen with an ice box that held 'ghetto ice' … a concoction formulated through trial and error by the locals that remained cold enough to preserve food longer sat on a small shelf attached to a cupboard with a battered door. "What's this place and why are we here? It's clear to me that you want me to feel ashamed about something. Right?" Keystone asked as his brother stood by the couch, his expression hard to read.

"Why, infant … this is sacred ground," Raptor said. "This is the childhood home of Optimus Prime."

-0-TBC 12-15-17 edited 12-16-17