The Diego Diaries: Inter Dimensional Tag (dd6 459)
-0-At The Residence, Iacon, somewhere in time
Prowl stood before a mirror studying his newest markings. They were familiar and not. His own were covered with something that would come off later in his own time, but for here would be hidden away. The tattoos he wore were familial, those that passed for them here. They were larger and more colorful. He didn't care for it, the showiness. It clashed with the fastidiousness of his normal manner and appearance. Turning toward Prime, he considered the big mech who was sitting on a couch watching him silently. "This isn't me."
"No, but it will do until this gets ironed out. My team is coming with what they know tomorrow and we can see what we can do. I am sure you want to go home as much as I want to get my Prowl back," Prime said as he stood.
"I have a family and job. We have things to do," Prowl said. "I'm essential equipment."
Prime grinned. "Prowl says that as well. Come with me and let us dine together." He led the way out and upward to the residential portion of the palace. It was beautiful, large, held a number of family members in residence, all of whom were at the beach house on the Sea of Mercury, and was private to the public. Prowl was well versed with it having spent half his adult life coming to the beck and call of a number of Primes. He even spent a few nights here with Sentinel. That this Prime was in a relationship with that slagger made him nervous to be here. He found a strange desire rising in him to protect Prime if Sentinel should show up.
Post traumatic stress syndrome was a bitch.
They walked through the magnificent rooms that were part of the apartments, then headed to the dining room where an elegant table was set. They sat down, then waited. Prime grinned. "You look like you are going to have your last meal."
"It feels like it. How often did you flash in and out of this dimension?" Prowl asked.
"It is hard to pattern. It comes when it comes. For the first three times, I was in command of a fleet. We came to your call and sought information." He nodded to staff who came in with dinner for two. They set it up, bowed, then left.
Prowl glanced at them, then Prime. "Wirelite and Chromo. I know them. They were butler and house mistress of The Residence in my dimension."
"They were? They are quite noble individuals. They raised good sons and are the heart and soul of this place," Prime said as he began to organize his dinner.
Prowl stared at his own, excellent and beautiful food, then looked at Prime. "What about Earth? Do you know about Earth?" he asked.
"Earth is quarantined. They are a violent and treacherous species. We do not allow anyone to disturb them. We want them to grow and change. They are too primitive to accept either as a fact or a good thing that anyone exists in the universe but themselves," Prime said.
"Are they space going?" Prowl asked as he sipped a tall glass of clear liquid. It was outstandingly good.
"They are but they can only reach the fourth planet of their system yet. We are hoping against hope that they grow and join us," Prime said. "Some orn anyway."
Prowl ate some of the food, delicate and delicious cuisine, then glanced at Prime. "Your empire … what does it encompass?"
"Vast swathes of space. We have many, many partners in our confederation," Prime said. "We seek and encourage peace and responsible cooperation between all of us."
"Do you know the Hu-An?" Prowl asked.
"We do. They are very great friends of ours," Prime said as he refilled Prowl's glass, a tall fluted confection of crystal that bore the Emblem of the Primes. It was also inscribed with the creed.
"You hold to the creed?" Prowl asked.
Prime nodded. "Until all are one," he said.
"Then tell me truthfully … what's the back door here? What's the dark spot on the shiny sun you're painting here?"
Prime stared at him, then set down his glass. "I suppose you expect that given what you come from. Cynicism is perhaps inevitable for you. I do not know everything beyond what you told me but something tells me that Cybertron is in dire straits and that you are relatively inexperienced with the concept of peace and justice for all."
Prowl felt his pride sting, then he sat back. "I'm unused to believing everything I'm told. You could be feeding me a line of slag. How can I know that you're what and who you say you are?"
Prime considered that. "Trust is something you can build if you come at it with an open processor. Tomorrow, I have to go to the Temple in Simfur. You will attend to me. Then you will understand that here we are what we say we are. I do not know who this Megatron is but he does not have a place here. We do not allow war. We do not allow social injustice. It would appear that in this incarnation we actually practice what you preach."
Prowl stared at him. "If you say so," he said stubbornly.
Prime grinned. "You are as hard headed as my own. Tell me what I can expect to be happening to him. He is my partner in our effort and my very great friend."
Prowl considered his doppelganger. "Prime is honorable. He's being treated with care and respect. Our people are working hard to fix this. I have seven children and a life there. Trust me when I tell you that no stone will be left unturned."
"I am glad to hear that. Given we are talking about trust, meet me halfway. The flip side of no stone being unturned is no turns being left unstoned. Your cynicism will make for a long and disharmonious collaboration," Prime said.
Prowl stared at him hard, then gave a small nod.
"Tell me about your life. What was it like? Your genitors? What led you and Prime to be together? I have known Prowl for eons and it might be helpful if not entertaining to consider the points of convergence and disconnection," Prime said.
Prowl considered that, then shrugged. "I'm from Praxus, from an astronomically wealthy family who were given preferential treatment under the caste system. We gave to the empire mathematicians and physicists, gifted economists and scientists. We were celebrated, my family, for our intellect and accomplishments."
"But it appears you did not fit in nor care for that kind of life," Prime said.
Prowl shook his helm. "No. It was smothering. It was suffocating. I wanted to …" He considered memories a moment. "I wanted to fly. I was trapped in a cage and I wanted to fly."
"So you did," Prime said.
Prowl nodded. "I never fit in. I went to schools, I attended college. I'm a mathematician and analytical and strategic theoretician. My ada is a masterful mathematician, perhaps the best Cybertron ever saw and my atar is the best economical theorist ever. They were both brilliant and gifted. But they were also dominated by our caste, our societal expectations. My grandgenitors were interesting. My ada's were and are hopelessly bound by The Code and their habits. My atar's were better. I went my own way half the time and saw what life was like for everyone else."
"It was not equitable," Prime said quietly.
Prowl shook his helm. "No. It wasn't." His expression hardened. "There was suffering and hunger. My caste said they were lazy or they'd do better but the system was rigged. It was rigged against the majority for the minority. It made me furious and ashamed. I decided to do something about it, to bring it down." He grinned slightly. "The bravura of youth."
"What did you do?" Prime asked as he sipped his drink.
"I joined the police. I became a policeman and did it my way. I was obsessed and ruthless, merciless against those who were responsible for the misery and desperation of the majority. I tracked syndicates, killers hired to bust unions and silence those who didn't go along … I was after a shadow government when the Autobots recruited me to become second-in-command of the Armed Forces. I accepted after tidying up loose ends. I believed I could do better with access through that job."
"Did you?" Prime asked.
A cold expression formed on Prowl's handsome face. "No. It was their way to get me off the trail. Then things went south and the breaking point was reached."
"Tell me about this Megatron," Prime asked.
Prowl smirked slightly. "What can I tell you about him? He was the inevitable outcome of a general failure of our culture and society to care. Did you know my caste mocked empathy? They mocked caring for and feeling the misery of others. The System of Exception and the relentless corruption was the disease. Megatron was the cure, or so millions upon millions thought. He came out of the slums and gladiatorial pits of Kaon and created hope where none was. He was the face of the inarticulate fury that was ready to explode. It needed a voice, a figure head."
"What about Prime?" he asked.
"He was a long shore man. He grew up in extreme poverty, without more education than his genitors could scrape up for him," Prowl said. "While I sat in schools hating it, he was scrambling for books and learning, his genitors risking prison for taking out too many library cards so he could have what he dreamed of, a decent meaningful life. No one but high castes had full access to an education." He looked bitter a moment, then he continued. "He was strong and good, slowly working through the system to make things better on the docks. Then someone smarted off and a general strike was called. Orion Pax was the leader by default, that's how much he was loved and trusted. Then it spread and ignited a dormant pool of gasoline that burned our world half to death.
"The movement to end inequity began and it raged. As it raged it began to coalesce around Optimus. Megatron who had been the one before Optimus found things slipping away. Then Sentinel faked his death for his own purposes … he became Prime by killing the Prime before him, Nominus … then a new Prime was needed. Megatron and Optimus stormed the Senate, the Matrix appeared and chose Optimus. That was when Megatron declared war and it was all inevitable. It was all fragging inevitable."
It was silent a moment, then Prime set down his glass. "What is Cybertron like now?"
"Devastated. He took the AllSpark and sent it into space to prevent Megatron from getting it and destroying not only the world and empire but enslaving the universe. With it, he could." Prowl stared at Prime. "Do you have relics as well?"
Prime nodded. "The Matrix Flame, the Matrix and Well. They are safe in Simfur."
Prowl vented a sigh. "No AllSpark here, then. The AllSpark was launched into space, fell into a worm hole and was lost for millions of vorns. We all left Cybertron to get it while the Decepticons held what was left. It was the hardest decision we ever made, to leave. But we couldn't let Megatron have the AllSpark. Everyone and everywhere was in danger until we could get it."
"Did you?"
"We did," Prowl said. "It had landed on Earth with Megatron. There were battles and even The Fallen intervened. We had to kill him."
"My brother … Megatronus. He was a problem there as well?" Prime asked.
"He was. What happened here with Him?" Prowl asked.
Prime considered the question. "He has been taken into servo by Prima. He is a danger but less so because he exists in a null universe, locked in by the Will of Primus. The People will not be put into danger because my family squabbles."
Prowl stared at him. "You are Thirteen then."
Prime nodded. "I am."
"You came here, then, aware of it. You knew you were Thirteen even as a child," Prowl said.
"I did. I came here to serve The People. It is my destiny to ensure their safety, well being and progress."
"Optimus is said to be The One Who Comes," Prowl said.
"I do not know of that prophecy. I have almost always been here," Prime said. "Tell me about your Prime."
"He is good, truly and eternally good. He is honorable, decent, self sacrificing, and self denying. He never expected to have a family but he does. Neither of us ever loved anyone else. He's my leader, my bond and my greatest friend. I love him with my whole spark and I'll do anything for him that he wishes or needs. There's no one finer and no one greater among our people. He's The One Who Comes and we're rising from the dead because he exists," Prowl said. "Nothing that happened was his fault but he feels the burden of it. One billion of our people are believed dead, one billion lost to the universe and one billion suffering on Cybertron. He took the chance to come there to save them and he succeeded without firing a single shot.
"Our people are rising from the dead and we're finding them everywhere. It wouldn't happen without him. He's the greatest hero and leader, the finest of all of us that ever lived," Prowl said with emotion. "I will return to him again."
Prime nodded. "You will. Tomorrow, we will meet with my team. For now," he said as he glanced toward the window beyond where night was clearly falling, "you will be my guest. If you go back in the night, then we will regroup to figure this out no matter what happens. Somehow, some of us are caught in this loop. There will be an answer, I promise you. You will stay here to ensure that no one is alarmed or alerted about this but those who need to know. Tomorrow, we talk to my team, then go to Simfur. We will keep the schedule."
Prowl nodded, then finished his meal in silence. When they were finished, Prime walked him through the house, pointed out a few things, then showed Prowl his rooms. "I have a forlorn hope that this will be addressed easily. I am ever hopeful."
Prowl nodded as he stood in the doorway. "Forlorn is more what I know than hope but I'll let you lead the way on that score."
Prime nodded. "Recharge well. Tomorrow is not far away." With that, he walked down the hallway, then entered what Prowl knew was Prime's suite of rooms. He closed the door, then walked around his own rooms. He didn't feel like sleep. He sat on the couch for how long, he didn't know. Then he heard footfalls outside in the corridor. He walked to the door and cracked it to look out. He stared for a moment, then closed it.
Sentinel was outside in the corridor. He walked to Prime's rooms, then opened the door. Slipping inside, he closed it again. Prowl leaned back against his own, then vented a sigh. "Where are you, Orion Pax?" he said. He wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.
On a distant world in another time and place, a big mech stared out of the window of his apartment. His children were sleeping nearby. A stranger who looked like Prowl was staying in one of the spare berth rooms. He stared at the lights outside, then whispered. "Where are you, Prowl?"
He wouldn't get any sleep either.
-0-TBC 9-2-18 edited 9-7-18
ESL:
cynicism: (sin-uh-sism) the belief that nothing is ever going to be good, honest or true. Extreme disbelief in the good ever happening.