The Diego Diaries: Cleaning House (dd8 520)
=0=Panel on the MCA
"This is an admission long overdue," one of the panelists said. "Its been about two years since this happened and now we just learn that the suspects have been held this long without disclosure."
Charlotte Mearing-Simmons stared at the commentator, a retired Colonel in Special Operations and Tactics who had been an advisor to presidents before becoming a news operative. "You do understand the purpose of preserving investigations by not disclosing to the other side what you have and know. They weren't disclosed for two reasons. Their cell was still be investigated and only now has been shut down, thus their utility is over. The second one is and its very important. Prime is sovereign over his domain and he doesn't have to disclose."
"I am, Charlotte, but he has obligations to us as well who were looking for the moles and who were protecting other related operations. We're allies and we should act like them," he replied.
=0=Ops Center, Mars
Prowl listened to the commentary with one audial while juggling the rest of the Empire's handily. Mick Moran and Charlotte were doing a good job managing the story as it unfolded on Earth. It was astonishing to most listening aka Prowl that anyone would side with someone who didn't fear Megatron the way they did. This story would rage for days before it would be calmed down a bit by disclosure of information about the pair's actions and that of their fellows, as much disclosure as was possible.
He glanced at the door nearby as Prime walked out, nodded to him and walked onward. He had duties at school with Spirit and T-Bar. Prowl grinned. Good tonic for what ails you, the kids. He glanced at his data pad then worked onward.
=0=Conference room at the Prison
Gee-Gee and Winnie sat with Springer, Drift and Ratchet going over the details of the transfer of the two accused back to Earth. They were going to be flying to The Hague with the prisoners and the humans who were representing them to drop all of the parties off. It would be the most simple trade as possible. Ratchet would go as the figurehead for Prime of his authority.
"This is a good giveaway," Winnie said. "Having humans in custody is a dicey thing. Anything can go wrong."
Springer nodded. "These two are a real pair to draw to," he said with evident disgust. "We're getting slagged in the press but the world has yet to know the full details. They killed two men in the wilds here and gave them a bad end. Its time for them to carry that ball."
Ratchet nodded. "You're singing to the choir, boys and girls."
Both would leave Mars at 1000 joors their time the next morning and land in The Hague at 2300 hours their time that night.
=0=Ops Center
Paragon walked to the command table and sat. He handed a data pad to Prowl. "Here is the housing location of the last individual in the migration who might have the chips. We can at least find them at their homes even if it might be a nightmare to track them individually elsewhere. Though I do remember the past few times we did that it didn't turn out too well."
"No," Prowl replied. "I can however attest to the quality of the couches made in the colony."
They both grinned.
"Jetta is heading this latest fiasco so you might jet that data to him or go downstairs with it. They should still be in the sub command center figuring this out," Prowl suggested.
Paragon nodded, then rose to walk out.
Prowl watched him go, then wondered how they'd be able to gain access to the processors of 4,287 individuals without half or more of them forting up to fight.
It was perplexing.
=0=Jetta and the Gang
Jetta stared at the data pad noting that all of them were being housed in Crater District 12 in the various cities. They were spread apart and it was obvious even to the newcomers why. No one in their former caste for the most part here wanted trouble with anyone over the system. That tug boat had sailed and was sunk at sea never to float anywhere again.
Jetta thanked Paragon who ambled off, then looked at the others. "Well, we narrowed their locations to Crater District 12, Cities 1 through 6."
"Oh joy," Greenlight said with a chuckle. "Piece of cake."
=0=Ratchet
He sat in his office waiting for the Master Medical Computer to work out the health profile of the slaggers in the prison. He'd had scans made by Forensics and the med teams that had shown up when the groups were tazed. He was looking for anything else that might be problematic or unusual about this group.
The computer whirled, he daydreamed about fragging Ironhide, then it halted. He read it, considered it, then sat back. These fraggers were stinking healthy on the general scans he'd made on the scene.
He then began to run their profiles against the general CNA database that he kept and waited. The computers whirled, then stopped. He read it, then sat back. These fraggers were stinking inbred, not only in their group but with others in the colony. They were groups for the most part in this migration who came from Capital City, Greater Iacon and Praxus.
There were among the less than 100 individuals that he had listed on his search about 75 percent familial relationships only two steps away from brother-sister marriages. He would have to check to see how many dynastic bonds there were that were just familial relationships, that is, someone adopting a 'son, nephew, niece' or other non reproductive arrangement. Putting someone in your family tree that had money, connections or supported you politically was as common as rain.
The less common ones such as Miler and Venture's, a bond that was meant to be a 'marriage' also appeared here with close relationships making up most of the connections. This was unusual and he considered why it would be so. Either they were incredibly isolated and 'made due' or they were so rarefied in their delusions that they kept their gene pool options for reproduction as small and 'pure' as they could.
That's when he set out to look for markers or indications of evident disease or syndromes from interbreeding amongst family or highly related members of their party. It wasn't a common thing to see this sort of limiting development in bonds like this that were 'recent', ie, not intertwined too closely together and over a shorter duration of time. If a bond like this let other less related individuals in it helped 'dilute' the problem. It would be interesting to see if this were so or if they had a genetic problem here.
It would take a while.
=0=Cybertron, in the northernmost climes of the planet, undisturbed terrain on a cold and windy orn
Raptor glanced at the team who had found the newest shrine. It was in the northern climes and had emerged itself from slowly melting snow and ice, both of which were millions of years old when Cybertron was in its heyday. It was intact and showed the markers of chisels and other tools that had dug it out as the dark dirty ice and snow melted due to slightly rising and changing weather patterns.
Cybertron was starting slowly to mend its deeply sick weather patterns.
He'd alerted the Museum Emergency Rescue Team and Prime who had just finished a few joors in the schools. They were on their way with Turbine as an Elder Clan expert and Hercy who'd been a wealth of knowledge in these structures and what they might require since he had helped build two back in the orn.
A bridge caught his attention so Raptor glanced toward it to see Prime and Hercy walk out. Behind them came the team and their delighted and excited director, Cauldron of Crystal City. They hurried to Raptor, then looked down into a dirty wet crater of ice, melting sludge and dirt. A dark stone appeared to be blocking some kind of opening.
A round hole had been enlarged allowing cameras to be lowered to the stone that blocked the hole, itself an indicator of a shrine. The small symbol of hands cupped was there but it was older than the one known now. This was just the hands. There was yet no concept of Cybertron as an entity protected by what they hoped was some divine being yet in the thinking of these, the first of their people or so it seemed. This one was terribly old.
Cauldron knelt to look, then glanced at his team. "We need this water sucked out and Larch, you have to come and enlarge the hole. When its completely uncovering the stone we can examine how to remove it."
Larch and a crew nodded, then worked to place a sump pump which sucked out the water almost immediately and kept the hole dry. Then Larch stepped in to carefully excavate around the site.
Everything that was removed was placed in containers to be sifted at the Museum Annex for Conservation at Autobot City for anything that might tell the story here. A photographer did a running set of images as markers were placed to identify progress and items while someone made a grid map to show where things were found. Even the chips of the ancient stone mason were carefully placed in containers and on the grid map.
"There," Larch said as he looked up from the hole. "Give me the wedge and the small hammer. I need the tool kit, the RTR one."
The items were handed down, then he worked slowly and carefully. It was painstaking, recorded and at last the stone in the doorway was loose.
Larch took straps from a crewman, slid them around the stone and ratcheted them tightly. He rose up, then with a couple of the mechs with him gently and slowly pulled the stone up and out. Moving it carefully to halt over a box filled with blankets to pad it, they lowered it, then dropped the straps inside before a lid with notations was placed over it. "Your turn, Cauldron."
Cauldron looked ready to explode with excitement as a bridge sounded nearby. Chevron, Sela and Partico who was the Temple Priest in charge of operations for Simfur stepped out. They walked over with beatific smiles.
"This is very exciting," Chevron said as everyone grinned at this small pure little mech.
"It is," Optimus said. He glanced at Hercy. "Does this ring a bell with you?"
"I worked on the one near Iacon and the one in the Manganese Mountains. I heard there was one here, one in the south and two others that were never located for me. It was chaos then even before the Revolution. This one I knew about and that hill over there," he said pointing to a jagged hillock rising out of the ice mass nearby. "That was said to be its marker. A jagged hill near it."
Prime nodded. "I am ready as is Turbine, Cauldron."
"This is a glorious orn, Lord Optimus. Let me see what we have, then we can decide how to proceed," Cauldron said as he stepped into the hole, turned on his lights, then bent down. He looked around in the doorway. "I see a small altar stone. I see several containers that must have the scrolls. There's images on the walls. This appears to be more advanced than the others. I think I see …" He gasped. "I see an image of Cybertron. Its in the cupped hands of The One."
Everyone glanced at each other. This would be the first image ever found of the concept of Primus and The One. The cupped hands were found here and there in very old places, mostly as graffiti by workers who made it for comfort. The idea of something beyond their miserable existence was slowly taking form for the Elders.
The addition of Cybertron aka Primus had never been found until now. This was groundbreaking and monumental indicating either an awareness of the planet as a living entity or contact with Primus Himself by the Elders. No one had found this symbol in a place this old before though there were always rumors that this existed.
Cauldron climbed out. "Lord Optimus, perhaps if you can go inside and see what we have. I would like your opinion given your knowledge of such things." He glanced at Hercy. "If you could do the same, Commander."
Hercy nodded, then watched as Prime stepped down, bending to look inside the cave-like structure. He stepped inside and as he did Hercy stepped down to pause at the door.
Prime was kneeling on one knee staring at the room and its contents. There were the usual hand prints, the 'signatures' of the illiterate builders of this sacred space. On the back wall painted with infinite care and skill the image of the cupped hands and a round ball with some brief details could be found. It was the most primitive version of the image they knew since childhood of the regard that Primus had for them along with The One.
This was the same and it wasn't. It was Primus alright but without the details. No one who made this knew that the planet was developed beyond their own local area, hence it was a nearly featureless ball. Yet they included it into their drawings, their imploring that the dead be found and rescued, the names on the scrolls nearby. Did they just know or did Primus make contact with them. It gave him chills to think about it.
Prime stared at it, the images of hands and felt his spark flutter. This was as pure a location as any he could find on his home planet. This was the beginning of independent thought and personality among his people, the beginning of their long climb to become the people that they were.
There were five urns holding the scrolls of names, mostly number designations of those who didn't live through this oppression. They would be unrolled, conserved and placed in honor at the Museum for everyone to see. This entire structure would be recreated and the contents placed in it for safekeeping and the viewing of those who needed to see and understand it, all of their people.
It was bare of any other designs or marks.
"This is old," Hercy said as he knelt next to Prime. "I wish I could tell them that they're remembered. I wish I could tell you how I feel right now."
Prime squeezed his should gently. "You do not have to, old friend. Anyone with a spark feels the same way."
Hercy nodded. "I hope so," he said softly.
=0=TBC 9-10-2022
beatific (bee-ah-tif-ik) beautiful and pure, like the smile of an angel
