The Diego Diaries: Avalone and Some Stuff (dd8 283)

=0=In an outer office in a habitat on a far away place

"How so, James?"

James Daniels glanced at Drift, then sat back. His hands felt static charged and the turmoil inside was beginning to push hard against him again. He shook his helm. "Nothing matters anymore. My mother was a good person and I lost her. You were never there, Dad. I needed you and you were never there. You took my son and turned him into a cold blooded predator without a conscience."

Jase Daniels stared at his father. "And you have no part in that, I suppose."

"I do. I was weak. I wanted to please my old man and I thought I wanted you to have it all. Well, look at us now." James sat back gathering his thoughts. "I was never one to reveal anything but I tell you now, I want to yell at the top of my voice about everything." His voice broke. "I miss my mother. Do you hear me?"

William Daniels nodded. "I miss Katie. I miss her every single day. I wish she were here to have the life she wanted and not the one she was left with."

"We can't live on Earth, maybe never. This is it if we want to have a life that isn't filled with catcalls and hatred. We have to make it here and I have to say …" James paused a moment to gather his thoughts. "I like the habitat. I like going around the colony, especially the countryside of Unidad. I'm … I feel afraid around the bots." He glanced at Drift who oddly seemed to understand his angst and disconnect. "They're all so tall."

Drift nodded. "We are. I can see that. You do know that we know you're there and we make effort to keep you safe."

James nodded. "I know. Its just so strange. But I suppose you've seen stranger. You must look at us and see children. You're older. You've seen things. You seem in some ways I can't define … more 'real' than us. I don't know how to explain it. I just feel … inadequate around all of you." James stared at the floor in misery.

It was silent in the room as everyone there digested the conversation for meanings some of them couldn't understand. He was speaking from his spark, it was evident to Drift and that was good enough for him. He rose then walked to James to sit on the coffee table directly in front of him. He reached out and took James' hand. "Do you feel me? What do you feel?"

James stared at Drift. "Your hand. Nothing more."

Drift nodded. "I have a hand. I call it a servo. I have two. I have two feet ... peds, two eyes I call optics … I can stand and move. I have a heart I call a spark and a soul that animates me that came from the same place you got yours, though they have different names, those places. I have feelings, I can love and hate. I have a hard past filled with regrets but I also have a present and a future that matters more."

He let go of James hand. "You and I have a lot in common. The package is different but the contents are almost the same. You want to have a purpose and meaning after a terrible experience but you can't have it until you come to terms with what happened. It brings regrets, some of them from a long time past and you've made yourself to carry the burden. You need to put it down, James."

"And how does that happen?" James asked.

"You try to find a way to make things right, even if its only for you alone inside your head. At every moment we do the best we can. In a moment later on down the road we might do better and still feel regrets for the past one. But its over. You can't have this moment if you don't deal with the old ones. They will dog you." Drift was silent a moment as the room seemed to shrink down to the players watching and talking.

Drift sat straighter. "I was a Decepticon who made a career of killing Autobots. I hunted them. I was a criminal and a pirate, I was a killer who didn't look too far down the road because in my culture mechs like me didn't last long so you burned bright, did what you want and died when the time came.

"But I got lucky. I found someone who saw me as someone who could change and stood up for me, someone long since gone. I got to see myself because of him as better and different, as someone as worthy of peace and hope as anyone else. It took a while but it changed my life. I got to feel what love was, something I hadn't felt since my youth with my genitors … my parents.

"I live here doing useful work, have a bond with the love of my life and we have a son now, Tell of Polyhex-Kaon of Cybertron. If I hadn't fixed my broken spark then I wouldn't be able to love anyone now including myself which is still a work in progress I might add."

James stared at him with a faint grin. "Sounds like work."

Drift nodded. "It is but it has to happen. You have a lifetime to work out what and who you are. One path turned out to be a bad thing but understand … Prime knows who and what you are as well as what you did. He still let you come here because in his processor and spark every living thing deserves a life that's good for them. Who else would have let you come?"

"No one," William Daniels said. He looked at Drift with misery on his face. "No one would have allowed it. I had friends from childhood who dropped me. I was all alone in our house with no one to talk to. I know you're angry, James. I know I didn't do the right thing by either of you but … I wish you could know how sorry I am."

"Its kind of late for that, Grandpa," Jase said coldly.

"Why?" Drift asked.

Jase Daniels stared at Drift a moment. "Because I'm not like you. My life is in the dumpster. I can't go home to any kind of life. I don't expect you to understand."

"Why? Why wouldn't we understand? Who knows more about losing absolutely everything better than us?" Springer said. "A corporation stole our family business and we couldn't do a thing about it. My family ran during The Fall and made it to ships to leave in the Diaspora. I got them away together but I haven't seen them since. Where are they? What are they doing? Are they hungry? Are they slaves? Were they killed for their tech? You'd be surprised how often that comes up. I doubt that you can match us for losing what matters."

"I was a master of the universe. I could hold up things for our country and conversely for the world, things that could help everyone if I wanted to and I did. Often. People suffered because of me. Yet here we are working in a place like this and getting reasonably good treatment by those who have no obligation to do so. It baffles me, the kindness of other people. I had none and yet they give it to me," William Daniels said.

Bill Nast rose to walk to the window. He stared out. "My wife was a good woman, Christian and kind. She raised two good kids. I was always working. You know how it is," he said bitterly. "When that happened, when she died, I wanted to kill all of your kind, nuke all of you to Hell.

"We were sweethearts since high school, my wife and I. We were a team. I don't know sometimes how to go on without her. I have my kids and they keep me going but the loss of her light is unbearable." He glanced at the two mechs. "I don't know why I'm telling you this and you'll never convince me that you understand or care."

Drift considered that. "I don't know where my parents and my brother are. My brother was a good mech, law abiding and kind. He was religious and took care of my genitors who were worn down by over work and poverty. I wish I knew where they were so I could apologize to them and take care of them the way they deserve. If my brother wanted to go to college I would help him. I wish they could see our son. I want to see then holding him and spoiling him but they're lost to the wind. I do believe I know how you feel."

"Okay," Nast said. He turned toward Drift. "Fair enough. But what in the end does it matter? Dead is still dead and lost is still lost. You have a least the barest hope of seeing your family again. My girl is gone forever."

"You're religious. Doesn't it help you?" Lennox said. "You always made such a big thing about your religious beliefs."

Nast stared at Lennox with a cold expression. "I hate God."

=0=Far away

He walked down the corridor of the battleship where he lived when they were traveling. Ordinarily, he captained squadrons of shuttles that were primed and deadly combat machines. Now he was back on the ship he was assigned, a mid ranked officer of some notable skill and reliability that was smart, decent to his mechs and someone Paladin trusted.

Paladin was a strange one. He actually put store in those mechs who he admired for skill and smarts. He also knew that as a phase sixer with a partner who also was he wouldn't be challenged. That took the edge off the group that was always there with other armadas. The 'Cons fought for leadership. No one here would do that. It made for a calm group overall.

They were slowly in fits and starts making their way through the minefield of the energy floe that had slowed them to a stop on the arduous journey through this part of perdition. Onward they would go though it would be longer than planned. Given that no one would follow them there was no rush. But Paladin was earnest in getting his part of the galaxy carved out and what better way to do it but on the backside of Optimus Prime.

Cord walked into his quarters, then sat at the small desk that the former Autobot battleship provided each living space. He considered his mechs, all of whom pledged themselves to him. After seeing the bounty and futility of challenging Prime they decided that changing sides with the hope of finding lost family and friends was a better deal all the way around.

He'd gone over the extraordinary films made and struck off the ones that showed Prime's bounty, armaments and the number and kinds of weapons and ships he commanded. He cut off the data sweeps that counted Prime's populations into the hundreds of millions not counting Cybertron and most of all, he cut out the part about the relics, especially the Allspark being in his possession.

It appeared on the data he gave to Paladin that Prime had a colony that was mid range, some armaments and armies as well as few powers beyond his smarts and implacable will. It made the possibility of defeating the big mech seem like a walk in the park.

It was hoped by him, this mech who was tired of 'the life' that he, his kids and anyone else who wanted to go would be long gone before Paladin rammed his helm into the supernaturally powerful forces of Optimus Prime. He sat brooding on the situation, wishing against everything that this was over and he was walking the streets of a Cybertronian city once more.

He hoped to do so with his bond and sons, too.

Wherever they were.

=0=Somewhere else

"We're going to go now, Optimus. Meet us at Saturn Shipyard then," Ratchet said as he sat in the command seat of the great Avalone.

:Understood: Prime said. :Prime out:

Ratchet glanced at the senior specialists at the stations around him, the engineering team leaning over the command table studying the schematics that made up the giant titan and Jetta who was sitting in the navigator's seat with a pensive expression.

Ratchet grinned. "Well, its show time." He plugged into the ship once more. A metallic voice came over the intercom, the voice of Ratchet beginning the lift off sequence for an injured ship that couldn't do it themselves. "This is R-1. We are liftoff protocol six-five-two. All systems report."

Metallic voices none of which were Avalone began to call in, voices attached to his medical status systems that could vocally report if called upon to do so. It would take a while for them to signify they were ready for liftoff. It had taken the longest time to call them up, get a status report, then send teams to those points to check and/or fix whatever it was there. Now the work was done and it was time to lift him off and away.

It would be a good thing because activity from the two Decepticon bases nearby suggested someone with a big group was coming out to take a look at the buzz. It was time to go.

Overhead, four gigantic ships which operated at the shipyards and sometimes in the construction of the cities hovered. They would take the task of lifting Avalone with tractor beams that were developed on these modified former war vessels that came about after Banner's near crash. No one was going to be caught flatfooted again.

When the last voice checked in, Ratchet called the code, then sent it to the four ships overhead to begin the operation. "Avalone -eleven-fourteen-B-all-is-go. Liftoff protocol engage."

There was nothing changed for a moment, then the sensation of something landing on the ship from four angles could be felt. The floor began to quiver like the string on a bow.

=0=TBC 10-22-2021 For Misty. Again. :D:D:D

ESL:

pensive: (pen-siv) concerned, strained with worry or anxiety

It is no end surprising to me how many people, some really religious and some not so much who told me that when something terrible happened or someone died in their family their religions didn't help them one bit. Amazing.