The Diego Diaries: Onward (dd6 557)
=0=Out there
"What do you think? Do we pull away?" he asked the two Knights and three Autobots that were running security for the migration. They were coming toward the Prime signal almost by accident. The direction they were coming from wasn't in the line of sight of the message send. They had gotten it through an anomaly of space which was both a good thing and not.
There were Decepticons in their group, a large solid block of black ships with purple sigils. They were filled with troops and some of them had fighters fixed to their hulls, ships that if they decided to come off and make trouble would probably succeed given their lack of military among the nearly completely civilian group. They were a mix of different settlements that had left Cybertron during the build up to war sensing quite rightly that things were going to get bad shortly.
Sentinel had just been assassinated and the leader of their dissident faction, Orion Pax had been arrested and no one knew where he was. They had been planning, then left, heading into the only direction that Cybertron hadn't settled. They headed for the Perseus Transit, so called by the humans they didn't know at the time. They had their own name for it and among the rocky planets and sparsely settled systems there, they had built up a very large civilization. Keeping to themselves and trading sporadically with those aliens who passed by, they were relatively happy, though homesick.
Cybertron which was located in the Orion Spur was a dot on a map and a fading memory of The People until someone passing through, an alien species with trading ties to the planet said that Cybertron had fallen to Optimus Prime, the Decepticons were in disarray and that they were calling home everyone who could and would come. Prime was rebuilding Cybertron and the chance of the 'Cons regaining the planet was fading with each passing orn.
A huge meeting was held, decisions were made and ships constructed. They were large and meant for long distance travel. Filling them with memories, possessions and each other, they left their own colonies behind, sending a message toward Cybertron which was still on their oldest navigation maps. It was the way they were discovered. Decepticons who were in the region doing who knew what had picked up their signal and had joined them when they were closing in on Prime. They were many, silent and when they joined up, they flew among them without commentary or action of any kind. They were just there.
It was disturbing. That was when they sent a scout ship ahead to send a message of distress to Prime. hopeful that it wouldn't be picked up by the 'Cons if bulleted ahead of the migration. When they did, the 'Cons launched a vessel to tail them. They sent the message, then rounded for the route back. They never made it. The three in the scout ship were captured and taken aboard the lead vessel of the Decepticons.
No amount of requests for meet ups or return of their people could coax a sound out of the 'Con ships. They didn't change their actions or patterns but realigned in the body of the migration even more. The only thing the civilians could do was press on and hope that what they had heard about Prime and his ability to assist them was right. For the first time, they were all scared.
The senior soldier, an Autobot commander by the name of Blackjack considered that, then shook his helm. "I don't think so," he said as he glanced at his brother. "We can't provoke them. We have to wait to hear from Prime. We continue onward, say nothing and hang on."
The others nodded, then the civilian sent a message to the migration, one innocuous enough not to provoke the 'Cons. "Hang on. We're getting there."
=0=In a redoubt in the domain of the Prime of Cybertron
He caught the message as it went past. Pleon read it, then called Ominous to come. He entered, read the message, then grinned. "Well, this is interesting. That part of the arm doesn't seem to be in Prime's game plan. Why not contact the 'Cons in the ships and see what they want to do? We could use more mechs. The ships as well. Do it," he said.
Pleon nodded, then walked to the communications station to make an encrypted message to send to the Decepticons in the group who through the message from the migration had just told them that they were coming. It was a general call to any 'Con group as well that might be settled into an established fort in this part of the arm. It might have been an automatic send that some ships did to locate fellow Cybertronians in unknown space in different times. It might be that somehow they knew they were here. It didn't seem likely to Pleon given the area they were coming from but he sent it anyway. Both he and Ominous sat back to wait for a reply.
=0=Out there
A message jetted in, heading for space as messages do. Both the 'Cons and the civilians captured it, read the contents and braced themselves. The message was from Decepticons on Decepticon frequencies. It was hammering in to reach them, perhaps unaware that there were others in the receiving group besides 'Cons. Blackjack frowned, then turned to the others. "We have to let Prime know about this. If the newcomers make their way here, none of us are going to get out of it with our hides intact. We have to brace for trouble. Send a message to Prime. Tell him what's happening."
The civilian head of the group sat with the brother of the military commander to make a message of extreme distress to the last known Prime of Cybertron. The last message they had before they disappeared into the ether long, long ago was that Pax had been released from jail upon massive demand from the uprising population, that he had stormed the Senate and was now Prime. They were glad but it wasn't enough to get them to turn around. Three Seers in the group had made it clear that there would have to come a major reckoning for Cybertron before it was safe to come back. Apparently, that had happened already. What they had to do now was live long enough to come back home.
It was a grim group that flew through the darkness heading for a system with a large but relatively nondescript sun which fed life to a good nine or ten planets. It was far from Cybertron but a fall back redoubt for the Prime. Given their current situation, it was preferable squatting in a military base camp than dealing with the faceless and silent threat among them.
=0=Day before Christmas and all through the colony …
Ratchet watched the food in his ovens cooking as he had his minions, everyone he could pull rank on turn his home, Blackjack and Alor's as well as his genitor's homes into a party house. Tonight, everyone and their targ were coming to eat dinner on this, Christmas Surprise Eve and he wanted the party to be memorable. They always were, these excursions into the wild side and given the amount of food, drink, kids, freeloaders, hangers-on, family, professional allies and pets, the scene was going to be wild. Then they would repeat it with family at Primes (minus about 300 others who were here for the food, drink and folly) complete with gift exchanges.
But first, they had to do Santa Priming for the masses the following orn.
Ironhide wandered in, stole a bun, then set Halo on the floor. She looked at both, smiled brilliantly, then ran albeit as fast as tiny peds could take her to Hero's room and toy boxes. It would take her a while to get there.
They watched her, then Ratchet grinned. "Thief. Frag you, butter fingers. By the way, Prowl got a few joors of probation and two orns of house arrest but for work for dropping that bottle on Xantium at the game. The league doesn't want to set a trend." He grinned. "That's Our Prowl. A trendsetter."
Ironhide grinned, then walked to his chair to sit. "Prowl is a trendsetter on tossing tables and desks, snatching sparklings and falling on his face drunk. That's about it, the conformist slagger."
"I don't know. I got to see a photo album of him and his genitors with snapshots of family together standing along side of famous things and places. He's just a little kid in most of them. The adults are smiling beautifully and he's standing in front of them with the greatest pouting and frowning expressions I've ever seen. Our Prowler was a real gothic little emo slagger then. It's hilarious."
"I'll have to look," Ironhide said as he turned on the monitor. The news was playing.
Ratchet turned back to his cooking, the room looked like a diner and the hallway outside was lined with benches and little tables brought in by SPEEDY TRANSIT AND STORAGE! YOU ASK, WE DO! or something like that. Ratchet couldn't remember. He just knew that he liked the mini and micro-mini slaggers that ran the show.
It would be peaceful in the apartment until show time.
=0=Earth2, Earth 1, Sciences, N.E.S.T. HQ, The United Nations Consulate of Earth, The Resort At Autobot City and Unidad Terra 1
They were arranging for a dance party the next day, Christmas Day to be exact at the biggest and newest habitat on world for humans. There were very few going home for the holidays, most staying to have a human holiday on an alien planet. The opportunities for the ubiquitous year end family letter to everyone and sundry was enormously more entertaining from here than telling about how things were in the suburbs or city back home. Finger food and drinks would be the major attraction with all of the human habitations bringing their part of the massive amount of each that nearly 17,000 party goers were expected to need.
They were planning for everyone on world to come, though children would be staying home. Babysitters from the Social Services Division of Autobot City would be coming to stay for the six hours that most parents would spend dancing, eating and drinking, conversing and gadding about in the confines of Unidad Terra 1. The singles and childless would continue on into the merry joors of morning.
The women who ran the social show on world had worked it out, everyone was texted for their share of edibles and drinkables and it was on. It was amazing how many humans in all the different places sent orders through to Earth for this and that thing to make their hor d'oeuvres the way their mama probably didn't. It was a given that at a potluck, handmade buffet or hor d'oeuvres bar, everyone would be trying to outdo each other.
It was written into the human genome.
Everyone as well would be wearing their best. Even though their uniforms were cut out of the same pattern, their embellishments weren't. It would astound anyone on world at the amount of precious gems that would be worn by men and women at the shindig. Of course, given that they were made and 'sold' here by various artisans including the redoubtable Needlenose and were composed of just about every imaginable gem of any imaginable size, everyone was also determined to out do each other with that as well.
The socialites of Earth2 were no exception.
Given that Judy Witwicky had a crown of big diamonds, a ravishing matching diamond necklace, rings and earrings made to compliment the set, other women in her circle dolling up just as madly would be much remarked upon down through the ages. The members of the Autobot City Women's (and now men's) Auxiliary were determined to continue to write new pages into the Book of Legends.
They would succeed.
=0=Ops Center, Autobot City
It arrived, a message from far away and when it did Paragon turned grimly to Blaster. "You have the conn, Blaster. I have to go to Cybertron for a moment to talk to Prowl and Prime."
"Got it," Blaster said as he moved from tactical to the center table. He watched Paragon leave, then shook his helm. "What the frag now?" he whispered before he bent to the tasks at hand.
=0=TBC 12-19-18 edited 12-30-18