The Diego Diaries: Basilica (dd6 249)

-0-Basilica, earlier in the orn

They walked inside, pausing long enough to look up. It was over 200 feet to the top of the building, a sort of vertigo-inspiring sensation as they gazed upward. The building was Martian stone rather than the metal of Cybertron and it was the identical image of the original otherwise. Gigantic statues of mechs lined both sides of the vast room. Benches ran the length of the building but rather than face the altar-like feature three quarters of the way forward, they faced the center.

The room was filled with light, some from discreet sconces high up on the wall but mostly from the windows that had to be 75 feet tall. They alternated between the statues that lined the room on both sides. The statues were mechs of all manner and design. One had symbols of time carved into his massive frame. Another was beast-like in his design with cloven hooves and strange big wings. There was a small one with a hint of humor on his face and others who were beautiful in their design. One of them was female. They were set into niches and their gaze was felt wherever you stood inside the building.

In the front of them was a long wide aisle, then a massive stone that had been shaped to be relatively rectangular and held a smooth flat top. It was plain but massively impressive. It would take a lot to move the gigantic feature into the building. Along the walls were plaques that spoke to various things and near the altar-like feature was the niche that held the Seeker drone. Its sarcophagus was covered in crystal stones, some of them carved with glyphs. Evidently, leaving them was a practice.

They walked forward passing mechs sitting or standing here and there. When they reached the altar feature, they peered upward, feeling as if they were standing before El Capitan in Yosemite. It would be the same difficulty trying to climb it. Looking around, they wandered here and there. On the back wall was a giant carving into the stone. It was two servos cupped. There was nothing in them but evidently, they indicated something. Carlos turned toward Ratchet who was following behind them with a bemused expression on his face. :What do the hands mean?: he asked.

"Love and protection. They mean more, of course, but that's what they generally symbolize," Ratchet replied. He thought of The One and considered them. It was going to be Prime and Lauren's decision if they ever learned more.

The mercs wandered, peering here and there, then they gathered in front of Ratchet who was sitting on a bench watching them. :This is an amazing place. I heard that Primes were buried in it:

Ratchet nodded. "It's a celebration place of every prime in our history including and especially the ancient ones. If you were important enough, you were buried here. That's what it took to be so. It's a great place for our people to visit. Do you feel it? The sanctity and peace here?" he asked curiously.

They stared at him, then Silvio nodded. :I can see it. I've been in St. Peters in my country. It sort of has the same vibe:

Ratchet grinned. "Where next?" he asked.

:We passed the Mausoleum. Let's go there. You can tell us about it: Silvio posed.

Ratchet considered Silvio and the record that he had of him in their database. He wasn't a cold killer like the others. He was college educated and had served as security, albeit with Intel-Martin. As far as could be determined, he had no atrocities to his name. Ratchet moved him to another category from the others, an only slightly better one. Some of the others were college boys, others straight up military but all their records showed they were bad news. Silvio was sorted from them slightly in his assessment. "Alright. Let's go." Ratchet stood, then walked toward the door. The mercs would have to jog to keep up.

On the road …

They followed Ratchet as he transformed and drove out. It was getting long in shadows now as evening began to beckon. They drove behind him as he backtracked to the Mausoleum down the road. Todd glanced at Silvio. "What's your game?" he asked.

"I want to know more. Sometimes using your brain helps you get it. Going down Johnson's road, you got nothing," he said with a slight grin. "Tell me one thing that the bots have told you that has any value so far." No one said a word. "Let's see what that bot will tell us. He won't tell us anything he doesn't want us to know. You underestimate him at your peril. He's been fending off fuckers for millions of years. We must seem like ants to him."

No one said a word as they reached the turnoff and drove down the paved road that led to the entrance. Ratchet transformed, then turned to watch them as they pulled over, were scanned, then climbed out. They walked to him and looked upward. "You're following protocol well. It's -134 degrees out here. How long do you imagine you would last if you fragged up?"

:Seconds: Silvio said with a grin. "What's this place besides your burial ground? There's the symbol of the hands again:

"This is the first burial ground on-world. We have another one out on the plain. Some of our people who died in space are buried there in a communal grave. We're building a new one on the escarpment out in the Crater District. It's going to be a terraced affair and will last a lot longer than this one." He turned to walk inside and the humans followed.

The area was vast and surrounded by the wall which only reached Ratchet's shoulders. It wasn't designed to hide what was inside. The peaks of a row of private crypts could be seen towering over the wall itself. The inside was laid out in enormous squares, walls that enclosed swaths of specially groomed soil. They covered the entire enclosed space and were served by roads that allowed access to every place inside. A row of crypts with family names on the lintels ran the length of the back wall and were built from gleaming white stone. Some of the huge squares had no one buried in their confines. Others had some and one was filled. They walked to that one and stared at the scene.

There were graves inside, lined in rows with medallions fixed on them. They didn't know that the dead were buried standing up. Given they were a finite world with zillions of individuals living and dying throughout the entirety of their vast history, space was a premium. Their towers weren't built literally miles high for nothing. The practice continued here. Each plaque indicated a person. The inscriptions told of them, named them and the image placed in the oval inset beside the tale showed who it was. Nearby, a grave had the inscriptions but the image was braced like a picture on a dresser. It showed a mech with deeply red optics.

:Why is that done that way?: Lawrence asked as he pointed to it.

"When we bury someone, we put their image up for a year for anyone passing by or the family to see. At the end, the image is set into the plaque. It helps some remember what this place is and who's here." Ratchet glanced at the mercs who were looking around with curiosity. "We live a long time."

:No doubt: Lawrence said. :I hear that there's a lot of death on our home world. What are you doing about that?:

Ratchet considered him and noticed a flash of irritation on Silvio's face. Lombardi had more tact and thus was more tactical than the others. "We're taking care of them, too." He turned from them and walked along the border of the grave site toward the crypts.

:Are these special or what?: Todd Baseman asked. :Do some get this kind of burial over others?:

Ratchet shrugged. "Some like a family vault and others don't. It depends on the family. They get what they want." He halted as he stared at the one with Commotion's name over it. His image was on the wall beside the door along with an elaborate plaque of his life. The pangs of that kid's death filtered through Ratchet, then he glanced down at the mercs. "It's getting onward toward evening and the temperature is going to fall farther. You better pony up and go back to Earth2."

The mercs stared at him, then nodded. :Thanks for the tour: Silvio said. They began to walk back to their vehicle and when they were in, waved to Ratchet. They drove to the highway, took a left and booked it toward Earth2. They disappeared into the evening traffic. Ratchet watched them, then transformed himself. He was gone in seconds himself. But it wasn't before he met up with Lennox and gave him the knife for Lombardi. Only then did he head for home and family once more.

-0-In a lounge having a chat

"That was about that," Lombardi said as he sat with the knife on his lap. He rested his hand on it, the smooth leather and the etched poem in the sheath which felt good to him. He didn't know it was one. He figured it was more of their strange writing detailed to be ornamental. If he did, he would know it as a soldier's prayer, a famous one. 'One day an Autobot shall rise from our ranks, and use the power of the Matrix to light our darkest hour.'' Following it was 'Until all are one.'

He could have had the Autobot Warrior Creed but Ratchet held back on that one. The other was interesting enough. He was hoping that Lombardi would get it translated, then come to him to talk about it. If he came, Ratchet would have an opening. If he didn't, then all would be well, also.

"Then you think you can make a relationship with Ratchet?" Cam Frazer asked.

"It could happen," Lombardi said.

"Good luck with that. I was jumped by Sunstreaker this morning," Frazer said.

The others glanced at him, his father, Pierre Beliveau, Kyle Davis, and Owen and Rick Harris. "What happened?" Pierre asked.

"He called me out in front of the school administrator over that shit at Diego. He went out of his way to fuck me over," Cam said bitterly.

"Stay away from him if you can," Kyle said. "That maniac will kill you. I heard he already killed someone with a single punch, someone who once ruled Cybertron, here in this colony."

"What happened?" Lombardi asked.

"Someone insulted his kid and he punched him in the chest. The bot died," Kyle said. "There was a trial but he only got a slap on the wrist. He's the son-in-law of Optimus Prime, after all."

It was silent a moment. "Prime makes his decisions with the Matrix. He's said to be incapable of making a bad decision under those circumstances," Owen said.

"There's a court system outside of the legal system here," Rick Harris said. "Its called Caste Court. The high castes take their grievances there and the highest caste of all judges them. It's final, someone told me."

"Who's the highest caste?" Harris asked.

"Ironhide and his family. They belong to something called the Praxian Military Elites. Even a Prime has to obey them if they say so but they don't. They were formed to counter balance the others in the high caste ranks. They're considered completely honorable. Ironhide, his father, grandfathers and great grandfathers are among them. There's also another family of them here … someone named Piro and his father, Micro, who was just rescued a while back. They're unbending in their sense of honor," Rick Harris said.

"Ironhide … who would have guessed?" Owen said.

"He came from power, real power and wealth. You underestimate Ironhide at your peril," Rick said to his father.

It was silent a moment, then Owen took the blade. Pulling it from its sheath, he shook his head. "This is spectacular. It makes me shudder to hold it. The blade must be the sharpest I've ever seen."

"You can shave steel with it," Lombardi said. "Ratchet said it can't be scanned."

"What do the sayings on the blade mean?" Rick asked as he took it from his father.

"I don't know. I'm going to speak to Ultra Magnus tomorrow and I'll ask him," Lombardi said with a grin. "I think I just might use it as an entree into meeting some of the locals."

Harris nodded. "Do."

-0-Home

Dinner was had, conversation and updates on slag were taken, then everyone ran for their particular homework, video game and/or toy box. Ratchet sat in his chair beside Ironhide and held his daughter. "What did you find out were some of her preferences today, Ironhide?" Ratchet asked with a grin.

"Well, she likes trains. She likes compliments about her hair follicles … uh, threads … what would you call that?" he asked as he peered at the little femme dozing in Ratchet's arms.

"Let's call it hair to make it simple," Ratchet said with a grin.

"Okay. She's got compliments on her pretty hair. She sort of likes big bombs but that could be because she can see them better than the little stuff. She can really grip a cartridge, though. Femme has a grip," he said.

Ratchet grinned. "You're certifiable."

"I am. I don't care," Ironhide said with a grin as he sipped his beer.

"What are you going to barbecue this weekend?" Ratchet asked.

Ironhide frowned. "Nothing."

"We'll see," Ratchet said cryptically. "We will see."

"Oh, frag," Ironhide said with a grin.

-0-TBC 1-17-18 edited 1-23-18