The Diego Diaries: Moving On (dd6 572)
=0=Home Sweet Home
"ADA!"
"What, Halo?" Ratchet asked as he scrambled to gather up the bags they used to wrap presents for the kids. Back into the Christmas Surprise box they would go with most of the decorations and lights for another year done. It hadn't started out to be this way …
"ADA! ATAR!"
Optics flipped on if not out of skulls as two big mechs glanced to the right from their berth to see a mob of small infants staring at them with ten thousand watt smiles. Even the dog smiled. Three big kids stood in the doorway behind them smiling, too.
"We kept them out of things," Genesis said as the other two nodded. "They were going to dive bomb the tree."
"And that's why you get my stuff someday," Ratchet said as he rose from the berth.
"ADA UP! WE GO!" Orion said as Halo and Hero ran in circles they were so excited. Then they did.
Goed.
It didn't take long for the family to arrive once the message was sent but it was too long for the punters. They fogged in, the adults and their own several children who were placed on the floor to covet the tree as they added their own goods therein.
"What now?" Jack asked as he sat down next to Sun and Steiner. This was new territory to them.
"The big kids run the show. We sit back and grin," Ratchet said as he did.
It was hilarious how the little kids followed the big ones to the tree to 'help', then were herded back to sit in front of an adult to wait. Even Robby complained, then wandered over with Pudding and Flipper to stand in the window to absorb the light.
The big kids with Santa hats tossed to them by Ratchet began to give presents to quivering infants. Prowler stared at them slack jawed. Three Santas had just appeared in his house. Presents took care of that. Those that had outdoor wear were glanced over but the little toys were hugged tightly. New dollies, new little cars and trucks, a few airplane kits and the like made the rounds among the little/r kids.
Squees were had.
Big kids got electronics and games, books they coveted and other items that smart older kids would like who were still kids and not shorter adults. Hugs and kisses were given to everyone including the newbies as they expressed their happiness.
"This is great, Ada. I can repair the remote toys," Genesis said with delight. "I wanted this a long time."
"Good. You're on my team," Ironhide said with a grin.
"Frag that. They're all three on mine," Blackjack said with a chuckle.
"Remote toy teams? You do that here, too?" Jack asked his namesake.
"We do, Abba and we have war games with the Guild. We have a gamer guild and have huge war games. We're part of Prime's Doom Brigade," Hardie said with a grin.
"Oh frag … where do I sign?" Sun asked with a chuckle. There would be three more members before the orn was out.
"How about breakfast?" Ratchet asked.
"We did." -everyone there but Ironhide and Ratchet.
And the kids.
A dog and cat.
One of three cows.
Those ones.
"Come with us, infants. We're off three orns and you're coming with us," Delphi said as he rose. He plucked Halo up and hugged her tiny form.
Almost faster than they could spy, all of the children including the big ones were confiscated. The little bits squeed, then ran for their berth rooms for sleepy bed dollies, their little overnight bags and such to cart all their new booty with them. Big kids walked.
Dogs barked, cats meowed and cows mooed as the mad house organized. As swiftly as it was done that was how swiftly they all left.
Ironhide and Ratchet who watched from their chairs stared at the door as it closed. They glanced at each other, then the door. "Frag." -both of them
=0=Moments later
They walked down the street servo-in-servo on their way to The Diner On The Corner. Entering, they slapped servos and traded slag as they walked to a booth in the back where Drift and Springer were holding court. Around them, mechs, youngling kids now grown in number from six to fifteen, civilian friends and interested bystanders listened rapturously to the 'Cavalry versus The Idiots' from the previous evening or so.
They had a rapt audience.
Ratchet grinned. "Let me know when you get to the part where the horses stampede all over me."
The kids who were absorbed glanced at Ratchet. "Are you alright, Abba? I can help you," Coros said to the astonishment of exactly no one there. They were becoming amazing as they decided who they were going to be, these kids.
"I will if I feel a twinge, infant," Ratchet said with a giant smile. They ordered, then continued to listen to the yarning.
"What happened when the drunks turned on you at the bar in Oz, Abba?" a kid asked who was new to the dance asked, called to the Diner by the other kids. The interesting thing was all of them were former high castes.
"Well," Springer said with a grin. "I thought Pulley could tell you. He was there doing all the right things."
Everyone turned toward Pulley who sat up straighter. "I was on my horse, Bob. They told us to stay back and hold the horses. We did," he said with a serious expression.
All of the adults in the room grinned including a couple who were sitting nearby having breakfast as they listened to the fun.
"Commander Springer and Commander Drift walked to them who were yelling at each other really loudly. One of them got into an argument with Commander Springer and ended up cuffed so fast you could hardly see it happen. Then the others backed up but were part of the fight so they had to go to jail, too. The wagon came and took them. It was so fast it was amazing."
"That's you," Drift said as he grinned at the big mech sitting beside him with his arm draped over his chair.
"That's me. Amazing," he said with a grin.
All the mechs grinned back and shot him full of metaphorical holes off line. The kids stared at him with worshipful optics. It would be a nice time in the Diner this morning.
=0=At a home in Bern
"I'm not sure I like these overnight excursions," a big mech said as he ate breakfast with his bond and their two younger children. He was Nugget, a former high caste who was a legal consultant for a new group on Earth, Earth2 Corporation and the Earth Consortium.
One business and its focus was obvious and the other less so. They were a firm of former high castes who had fabulous consulting businesses on Cybertron and the Empire back in the orn. Now they were forming a private concern that would be a liaison between business interests on Earth and those in the empire. That they had to register as foreign lobbyists and follow a set of very strict regulations for them had been an irritation, not the end all and be all of their efforts to be a power player in the new paradigm.
Nugget was a father of Sil. He was partners with the fathers of Pulley, Coros, Dell, OD, Sio and Tempe. They were all business go getters in the Empire back in the orn and they were determined to be one again with their consulting business, Solar Business, LTD.
It had been 'interesting' when their kids had become enamored of the Watch. Now it was becoming concerning. Having their children running around with cops and being exposed to the sordid side of life wasn't something they had designed for their kid's lives.
"I want to know, Selo, when Sil comes home. I like that Jessine is her friend but the things they like to do bear correction," he said as he rose to carry his dishes to the sink. Having no 'staff' here was an adjustment but they bent their noses to the wheel to figure out how things operated and then make their way. Doing dishes themselves was one of them.
Unfortunately.
Selo who didn't like it any better understood their daughter more than his bond. He nodded. "Good luck with that. She told me in a text that they were going to be getting a tattoo for their group and that she had already sent the petition to be accepted. She said, and I quote, 'I WILL JUST *DIE*, ADA, IF YOU DON'T LET ME DO THIS!'."
They stared at each other, then Nugget leaned against the sink. "Frag," he said softly.
=0=Elsewhere
They wandered around the Metroplex Mall watching the masses as they went this way and that. A stop out at the Port of Mars had been enlightening. Hundreds of individuals were coming in a long continuous march to safety. They were ready to be here and had spent a lot of time getting better, organizing with their families and having their basic and major information harvested for the Bureau of Refugees and Immigration to be checked against mainframe computers on several worlds. All of this they did while learning of their new life through the extensive information videos and classes that were given to them at Oasis Base.
Several groups of Functionalists had been located among the masses and after a long talk with the senior members of the Guiding Hand Monastery had understood the situation as it had stood and were sensitized to the delicate balance that now existed among the different assimilating groups. It was hoped that information would lesson cultural shock and end problems before they began. As it was, several groups of high castes and a few borderline criminals were flagged for later visitations for assistance in the process.
Among them had been Sil's family now and the others in that group some time before, all of which were great friends and now partners in their business ventures. Though their children were sliding in swimmingly after a bit of a rocky start, the final assessment of their families was still marked as open on the books. There were enough red flags there to warrant it.
They came in groups of 5,000 at a time, standing in lines with their data in hand, waiting for the proper bus to take them to their new homes in Crater District 2. When they would finally drive that way over eight lane highways through and past vast cities, amenities and the signs of a muscular economy filled with purposeful individuals, they would also be passing three more craters with city starts underway. This was going to be some enormous endeavor.
It was a crap shoot keeping out every criminal and hard helmed die hard former high caste, financial bankster and all around hard aft slagger but they would try and succeed.
Most of the time.
=0=Mid morning
They were both in the book store getting something to read and the latest downloads from the colony's 45 newspapers and several dozen magazines. That didn't include those from Earth and other places including Cybertron. The news had mentioned that Cybertron had a swinging time for the holidays and it included fireworks, tons of food and drink along with parties held wherever possible. Elders and children got fun and personal gifts from the Prime and the adults got candy and good hootch.
Nothing was too good for their people even if it was now a full time aspect of the Industrial Park system. In a few orns, basketball weekend would be transmitted everywhere including there and among those playing would be the unthinkable … Optimus Prime would lead his team, the Invaders against that of his two sons-in-law, the Kaon Kowboys. It would be epic.
So was the rumor that Australian Rules Football was being evaluated for the sporting world line up here.
Until then, the beat moved on.
There.
Here? … On the street glaring at each other optic to optic ...
"Where are you going, slagger?" Ratchet asked as they walked out to the street.
"I have slag to take care of," Ironhide said. "Basketball practice if you want to know, nosy. Meet me at the Diner at noon for lunch. I, IRONHIDE HAVE SPOKEN!"
A fist to the gut took care of that impertinence as he ambled off to the metro past laughing pedestrians.
Ratchet smiled at them. "He's a handful," he said as he glanced around. "Slag," he muttered to himself as he walked down the street. "This is fragged-" Then he halted and smiled as before him, nirvana beckoned. Walking with a renewed spring in his step, Ratchet of Iacon walked into The Sports Center of Autobot City.
He had to put together a new cheer trousseau for the game upcoming. His ada had confiscated his cymbals, Iacon glyph hat, canned fog horn and other incidentals after all. He walked down an aisle, saw what he wanted, then grinned. "Now THIS is what I'm talking about," he muttered to himself as he reached for the best slagging thing since his tambourine.
=0=TBC 1-17-19 edited 1-25-19
ESL:
yarning: telling stories, an old western American expression. To yarn or the act of yarning is to tell stories and chat
booty: in this usage, stuff you stole from someone else (it usually means stole stuff but it can also designate just stuff)
assimilate, assimilation: to learn to fit in, to understand something and find a way to belong. Assimilation is the process of assimilating.
Trousseau: around my old timer family it included all of the linen and clothing items a girl needed to get married and run a household of their own … towels, dinner table linens, clothing, etc. Sheets and slag. All of it. :D