The Diego Diaries: Stuff (dd8 334)
=0=The next day
It was cold and the sky looked slightly yellow from the rise in dust particules. Given the gusty nature of some air patterns on world, it was still possible to find the wind bursting up with oceans of sand and fine particulates combined. It looked like it would happen today.
Ratchet stared upward at the tower where he lived. The top four floors were missing including all the debris left behind while the top of the fifth level was being sheared for the addition of beams and the like. When they were through with the rebuild it was likely that this building would be dimensions stronger than even some of the stone buildings on world.
"Well, I hope they get this done sometime," Ratchet said to himself. "Some have to start over." He continued onward to The Fortress and a 'stitch and bitch' session with Granny. He ambled onward into the morning crowd.
=0=Prison
The mood was low as the inmates, those that still had a fire inside gloomed around the facility. Those who worked there were used to the mood swings. No one liked losing worse than losers. Some of the prisoners were bellowing and making 'conversation' while others were being difficult.
Winnie stood in the intersection near a compound where those who earned it came to play games and hang out with others. There were balls for basketball which had a huge following here and other games that were traditionally Cybertronian in nature. They'd come with a bad attitude and even though a number were using the time wisely there were several that weren't. They were making it known that if anyone had any 'bearings' they'd come inside and show everyone.
Winnie who didn't have bearings but had MASSIVE skills was deciding what to do about them when they got ready to go and would likely make their moves. Gee-Gee walked up to pause beside her. They were silent a moment together.
"Looks like the slaggers want to fight," Gee-Gee said.
"I know. When they leave its going to be problematic. Some of them don't seem worried about getting shot," Winnie said conversationally. "I called for back up."
"Well played. I'd help you but I have to supervise a processor related extraction and they need legal oversight. The guardian ad litem is on their way," Gee-Gee replied.
"The Helex pair?" Winnie asked.
Gee-Gee nodded. "Time to get them into care somehow."
Winnie nodded. "I hear ya. I got this handled."
"I know," Gee-Gee replied. "I'll see you later about the paperwork if there's trouble."
"Thanks, G," Winnie said as the redoubtable little femme walked onward toward the mental containment sector of their prison.
Both would have colorful times.
=0=The Fortress
Ratchet sat down across from Prowl who glanced up as he did. "Good morning, sunshine."
"Same to you, Loon," Prowl said. "Thanks for talking to Optimus. I think it helped."
"That's the plan. Speaking of plans … when does basketball start and have you noticed any clandestine practice going on?"
"After weekend. No. I think frag the clandestine. Get out there and practice," Prowl said. "We have another championship to win."
"I think its a good thing that Cybertron is taking another year to learn the game and not coming in to play. I think its going to go well there," Ratchet said.
"We'll still beat them," Prowl said grimly. "What sort of clown suits are you going to wear to embarrass us in the solar system?"
"You don't get tribal sports. Iacon always dressed up. We always made spectacles of ourselves because it frags off the gentry like you so much. The more you dismiss my traditions, the more I'm going to shove them down your throat. See?" Ratchet asked with the best smile he had on his face.
"Iaconians were always savages," Prowl said with a smirk.
"Does that include Prime and his genitors?" Ratchet asked.
Prowl's smirk fell. "What brings you here besides boastfulness, incipient insanity and gloating?"
"I thought we'd hit the food trucks for lunch. We can go around and see the progress," Ratchet said.
"You're on, sister," Prowl said. "1200 on the dot."
"Got it," Ratchet said as he rose to go. "See ya."
Prowl watched him walk across the room and out the door. "Thanks for Optimus, Ratchet. You don't have to analyze me, too." Prowl grinned, then began to do his thing again, sorting through mountains of data and details.
=0=There
"ADA! LOU DOING?"
Ironhide who was holding up a beam on a shattered roof glanced at his daughter who was standing beside a soldier who was looking after her while her old dad and papas helped raise a demolished room. "I am. You just stay there and watch."
All around them was the sight of Nova Cronum rising up again. It was redesigned to make sense, given its age and the times it'd been through. Now they were making a really high quality and sensible airport and to do that they had to remove electronics that had seen better orns.
Yes, Halo was on Cybertron.
The Temple School was configuring classes into their program about attacks and what to do/feel/think about them in the context of tiny children who never saw conflict before. None of the eight students ever had unless it was over the last donut in the box. Sela was coordinating that and helping the school district get it in line with the manuals. Tomorrow, she would be back hard at it learning about blue, two and getting along.
"APPA! YOU DOING?"
Blackjack glanced at his dazzling little granddaughter as he stood in water holding up a beam. "I am, Princess. You stay there."
She beamed at him. "APPA! YOU DOING?" she asked the next on in the line.
"I AM!" Raptor roared. He laughed. "We're all doing, infant."
"AMMA! YOU DOING?"
Turbine laughed. "No, baby. I'm bossing. Come to my district. Do my district's jobs, boys."
"WE'RE ALL DOING!" Sun said as he and Jack held onto the girder. Below him were techs pulling out wires, shorted boxes and other debris. "How long are they going to take down there?"
"You running out of steam, old mech?" Jack asked his brother.
"Yes," Hard Drive said as he sat on a box next to Halo who was standing between him and a soldier.
It would go like that for a while.
=0=At the Center for the appointment
Ratchet rushed in just as the technician walked into the waiting room to take Tell in for testing. He watched the smiling baby pass by, then walked in to sit with Drift and Springer. "Don't you two look like slag."
"Thanks, Ma," Springer said with a grin. "I'm never going to like taking him to doctors."
"I know but be glad you have some and you can," Ratchet replied. "This is the make or break testing that tells if he's truly regenerating his CNA on his own."
"What if he isn't?" Drift asked with a trace of fear in his otherwise calm voice.
"Then we go from there," Ratchet said. He sat back. "I'm taking Granny on a food truck tour at 1200. If you have the time come along. I can regale you about my great basketball ensembles and we can watch Prowl eat a hot dog with a knife and fork."
"Does he?" Springer asked with surprise. "If he does I should have hit him harder on those occasions I refuse to tell more about."
"You punched Granny in the face and at the time he needed it. Prowl is goal oriented and focused. Its partly his frame design, his upbringing and his do-or-die spirit of competition. Poor sad Prowler," Ratchet said with his best smile.
Huge chuckles went with that as they passed the time until Tell returned. Sitting down to hear the news it was conclusive. Tell was healing himself. No more medications would be needed. When he finally could hear a sound was still unclear but it was sooner now than before.
Three mechs and a baby walked out of the Center elated.
=0=1200 joors at the Junction
Prowl strolled up, then both crossed toward the Mall as they sauntered onward to the plaza where a number of food trucks were parked for the touring 'Tastes of Mars' conglomeration. They reached the plaza, stood in line, then took overstuffed hot dogs and beer to a table nearby that accompanied the group. It was one of several that parked in different public spaces in different cities on a rotational basis.
"This is good. Whoever invented yellow mustard is a god in my book," Ratchet said as he took a big bite out of his hot dog. His face reflected the bliss he felt.
"I like mustard, all of them," Prowl said as he took a bite of his own. It was pleasant between them for a moment, then Prowl grinned. "So … you think you can psychoanalyze me?"
"No," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "There's so little to work with."
"Very funny," Prowl said. "By the way … most of what I lost for the kids is on computer. I took images of them from time to time so recreating the pages is going to be hard and long but I can do it. What I can't recreate are the mementos and the trains. The toys they had as infants and all of it."
Ratchet nodded. "When they blew up my apartment we lost it all. I feel for you, Prowl. I'm sorry."
"Slag happens, I suppose," Prowl said noncommittally. "So what's the verdict?"
Ratchet grinned. "For a repressed smoldering emo Goth mech, you're damned near perfect."
Prowl grinned back. "Ditto, my friend."
They would eat, go on the underground that was still functioning and visit this and that place. They would do so until Gee-Gee called Ratchet to the Prison. Then the two of them would book it cross country at top speed.
=0=Prison, Mental lock up
They arrived, then hurried to the special detention section for mental and unstable prisoners. A group was standing in front of a cell block that Ratchet knew held the 'twins'. They were a pair of impaired mechs, both of them big, terrifyingly strong and utterly delusional who said they were from Helex. It could be but there was no record of either of them in the computers anywhere.
Ratchet halted beside Gee-Gee. "Well, its about time. I think we have to expedite this process, Gee-Gee."
"I agree," Gee-Gee said from the middle of a group of massive guards and a trembling femme who was guardian ad litem of both. "They want to talk to you, Ratch. They want to fight."
Ratchet considered the two who he treated as best he could through WIFI. They were too dangerous to take on any other way. Both of them had been gathered in the Diaspora by Dai Atlas and transported here in chains for detention. It was an unholy thing to see them side-by-side with their hulking bodies and demented optics. "What's going on, boys? We came here to help you."
"No," one said. "We want to go with the mech who came here, the one who attacked. We saw it."
The other nodded silently.
"That slagger ran away. Why would you want to go with a coward?" Ratchet asked.
"We would kill him and take over his fleet. We have scores to settle," the one replied.
The other nodded silently.
It was going to be one of those days it would appear.
=0=TBC 12-28-2021
Note:
Stitch and bitch: an old fashioned way to call a quilting bee. Women would save and prepare squares of cloth, then get together with someone who had a quilting frame to hand stitch them together to make a quilt. The elders in my family were famous for their quilts. Some are in museums. Stitch and bitch, sew and gossip. Given that they lived on farms and ranches spread out, this was a huge social occasion.
