The Diego Diaries: Reboot (dd8 340)

=0=At the 'bad' prison

When the last door was opened Ratchet stepped inside. He grinned. "Hi, Tarbox. How about a sit down chat. You decide the topics. Okay?"

Tarbox didn't state a preference. He was too busy charging Ratchet like Rhinoxx.

"Oh frag," Roadie mustered as he glanced at Winnie from nearby. "Want I should shoot him, boss?" he asked.

Winnie grinned. "He can't take the trauma. Let's go help Ratch."

With that, the crew stepped in and by the time they cleared the gate entrance Tarbox had Ratchet around the waist. The two sailed past the group and landed on the bars. Howling commenced as they both staggered away from it, Tarbox backwards and Ratchet forward.

Roadie grabbed Tarbox before he could recover, then with help cuffed the big mech.

Tarbox shook himself, then lunged against Roadie which was like a mouse lunging against a mountain. Even a big mech like Tarbox couldn't budge Roadie when he was set. Yelling and giant loud abuse followed that as the mech was ratcheted down with ties and placed on a stretcher that had just arrived from the hospital way down the road. A big ambulance was parked nearby ready to fly the inmates wherever they were supposed to go.

"You alright, Ratch?" Winnie asked as Ratchet walked in a tight circle trying to see his own aft. There were faint marks of the blazing contact he'd made with the bars on it.

"What?" Ratchet asked her with a slightly dazed expression. "What am I?" he asked as Winnie called for a moment to recover.

=0=Ops Center

Ironhide and Prime walked in after inspecting the now rising structure of the very much enlarged Consulate of Earth. Walking to the command table, they pulled chairs to sit.

"You seen Ratchet?" Ironhide asked.

"He's at the prison trying to salvage a bunch of dead heads," Prowl said with his usual empathy and charm.

"Is it an extraction?" Ironhide asked as he began to rise.

"It is," Prowl replied as both Ironhide and Prime rose to go. They were gone before Prowl could sit back in his chair. "Have fun."

=0=At the Prison

"You sure you're okay?" Winnie asked as she checked him with her own medical equipment. She was a doctor in her own right, a 'general practitioner' with an amazing background in emergency medicine treating trauma and self inflicted wounds.

"Sure," Ratchet said to both Winnies as he gathered his marbles back into their sack. The jolt was meant to smart and being held against the bars by a charging prisoner had done its job. "Who's next?" he asked as he wobbled toward the gate.

Everyone followed him in a straight and highly bemused line as he weaved his way through and out onto the paved pathway. He glanced around at the mechs left, noted there were five now and glanced at Winnie. "Who gets the hammer next. I feel lucky."

Huge laughter and mockery greeted that as a bridge opened nearby. Prime and Ironhide stepped out to walk to the group.

"Old Mech," Ironhide said with irritation. "I told you not to do extractions without me along. You always end up getting planted."

Ratchet smiled his usual dazzler. "Why, Ironhide … all three of you … you always say the nicest things."

"He got plowed into the bars and held there," Roadie said. "It was great."

Prime snorted in spite of himself. "If you say so. Who is next?"

"That's my question," Ratchet said with a slight frown, then everything snapped back into place. He staggered a moment, then straightened. "Things are back online. Slag. That was weird. Which one do we get now? I think I already asked that," he mused absently to himself.

"That one," Olly said as he pointed to a mech that looked nearly square.

He just about was. His real name was Chem and he was as wide as he was tall. He looked like he was chiseled out of cybertanium. He was without too many frills and on the battlefield could take punishment like a tank. He was a ground game maniac and was fearless about running at an enemy line to take them out by himself. He wasn't a team player. He had taken more abuse than a mech should have been possible of achieving.

His nickname was 'Tank' though Chem appeared on his transponder identity disks in his body. He didn't appear on databases and the town he came from was somewhere in the north. He was someone who had been relegated to being a 'roughneck', that is, someone who helped drill into the earth by adding pipes to the long chain of them to create a well. A chain would be wrapped around them, they'd be added to the last pipe punched in, then spun hard to drive the pipes even farther into the hole. It was dangerous, dirty and many were the mech who lost limbs, digits and opticals doing it.

He stared at them impassively, noting that Prime was among the group walking toward his cell. They were coming for him, he mused. Good, he also mused.

"Hey, Tank? We would like to talk to you," Ratchet said. "We want to take you somewhere else to live rather than here. There's going to be more and better things to do there. So how about it. Let us in and go nicely and you get there faster." He smiled at Tank with his best smile.

Tank considered the smile. Everyone who was a Cybertronian always did. It was one of the best ones out there. But even though he thought the medic calling to him was a looker, he also knew he'd punch him into orbit if he came in and tried to move him. Tank didn't do what he didn't want to do. It was always that way. Given the blows to his helm from roughnecking and the war combined with his extensive criminal arrest record, he was on the rolls as one of the most dangerous of the 47 in here. "Nah."

Ratchet considered that short curt response, then turned to the team. "Who wants to be my back up?"

"Old Mech, step aside," Ironhide said.

"Do, Ratchet. We will get him. Its going to be bad either way so we will do it," Prime said as he suddenly itched to go rounds with someone.

"Don't bump his helm. All of these slaggers have injuries and some of them are significant. I'd shoot them if they weren't already fragged up and medical stasis doesn't help because that tech is glitching in all six of them. That's why they're the first to go. All of these fraggers need to go," Ratchet said with a frown. "Damn. We really know how to make things go badly."

Prime glanced at Olly who prepared to let them in. "Let me go first, Ironhide. Back me up if it goes badly."

"This mech, Optimus, has the grip of a pair of pliers. He had to have one to work in drilling. Don't let him grip you," Ratchet said. "Once he does you have to dismantle his servo to get free if he won't let go."

Prime stared at Ratchet, then Tank. "Now you tell me," he said as he walked to the gate to enter the cell. As he did, Tank turned toward it to wait for him.

The gate opened so Prime and Ironhide entered to stand side-by-side. It was silent as both sides regarded each other, then Prime moved swiftly. He ran to Tank, then gripped his arms.

Tank stood in place staring up at Prime, then headbutted him in the chest.

Optimus groaned, then staggered back rubbing his chassis.

Ironhide stared at him dumbfounded, then rushed the big mech. He gripped an arm and tried to bend it but it didn't move. It was just about the most solid object Ironhide felt at that moment he'd ever touched. Then he found himself flying backward to bounce off the bars and land on his face.

Prime watched him go past with surprise, then began to stalk around Tank to get advantage.

Tank let him.

Ratchet watched the show with a device in his servos. The stasis link in the mech wasn't working and thus he wouldn't be going night-night any time soon. He glanced at everyone. "Get him, boys."

The crew grinned, then rushed Tank. Everyone got a grip on him and yanked hard.

Two of the crew flew sideways as he shrugged his arms. To others hung on for dear life but Tank ignored them. He was watching Prime and Ironhide who had rose with a need for vengeance in his mind.

"Ooh-hoo!" Ratchet called out. "I don't think its working." Everyone including Tank glanced over as he smiled brilliantly at him, then returned to the surprisingly dull moment at hand.

Prime paused. "Tank, we want to take you to a better place than this. I want you to have a better life."

"I don't need one, Prime. I like it here," Tank inexplicably said.

"There's gardens and places to go. There's none of that here," Winnie said. "Come with me, Tank. I'll help you myself."

Tank stared at Winnie through the fog in his helm. Someone nice was talking to him. Maybe it was his ada. He stared at Winnie, then nodded slightly.

Everyone who had a grip on him let go and stepped back gingerly. It was silent.

"Come on, Tank. I can take you there. Come with me and it'll be alright," Winnie said gently.

Tank hesitated, then began to follow her. A bridge appeared nearby and they stepped into it. The place became very still.

Prime glanced at Ratchet. "What happened do you think?"

"Sometimes when your marbles are scrambled you go with the softer energy. Winnie is a nice femme. Maybe he had one in his life once and confused her for that one," Ratchet said. "I don't know but I do know that wouldn't have gone very well without a break like that."

Prime vented a sigh. "I, for one am glad."

General agreement met that as Winnie walked back through the bridge which closed once she was through.

"He's in confinement?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah. I asked femmes to meet me and they have him. I think he's thinking about someone in his life," Winnie replied. She glanced at the pen next to the one Tank occupied. "This one is a strange one."

"Aren't we all?" Ratchet asked with a grin. "What's his story and who is he?"

"His name is Collier and he's from Torus States. He somehow considers him the son of Primus."

"We all are," Optimus said.

"Yeah, but none of us can call him Dad quite like he can. He's the personal son of Primus," Winnie replied.

"Which Prime then?" Ratchet asked.

"Telestar."

They stared at her, then everyone glanced at Prime.

"I am unaware of a prime named Telestar," Optimus replied.

"Well, there he is," Winnie said nodding to the tall powerful looking mech who was standing by the bars staring at them. "That is Telestar. Call him Telestar Prime or he won't talk to you."

"Religious fanatics are some of the hardest slaggers to work with, Optimus. Talk to him like a brother. Maybe he'll make this easy, one Prime to another," Ratchet said.

Prime considered that. "It is worth a try," he said as he walked to the cell to stare at the big mech who looked at him with interest. Mad interest. "Telestar, I am Optimus Prime."

The big mech gazed at Prime for a moment, then nodded. "I am aware of you. My father speaks to me about you."

"What does He say?" Optimus asked as he stepped closer to the mech who looked strong and fast.

Telestar considered that. "He tells me that you don't deserve to be Prime."

"Who does?" Ironhide asked nearby.

Telestar glanced at Ironhide. "I do," he said before he swung on Prime with all his might.

=0=TBC 01-06-2022