The Diego Diaries: Prime Stuff (dd8 341)
(This was supposed to go out last night but it didn't. I have been asymptomatic apparently with Omicron Covid for several days until the weekend when it slammed into me and left me so debilitated that I was unsteady on my feet. I never felt that kind of tired before. I must have forgot to post this. Sorry about that. I feel like a million bucks today which is soooo welcome. Its also 23 degrees above zero after being between -11 to -18 for a week. Its like walking into a stand up freezer when its that cold. I hug you all. I will try and post every day. I HATE it when I miss one. Take care out there. I love you so much. -Granny putting her cane away for now. :D ) :D:D:D
=0=At the site of Primal conflict
It was instructive just how powerful the punch Telestar landed on Prime. He actually lifted Optimus off his feet. Staggering backward to the astonishment of everyone watching, Optimus Prime brought up his fists. "Telestar, that was a good punch."
"I am Prime. I am defending The People against a usurper," Telestar said calmly as he brought up his own and began to circle Optimus. It was obvious to everyone that this guy had skills.
"Why fight when we can talk. I would like to get your take on being a Prime," Optimus said as he ducked a very fast jab to the face. It was clear this could go very badly and given the delicate mental condition of the mech, Telestar could easily die or be more impaired by the encounter. :You can't bring him into stasis and we can't stun him?:
Ratchet shook his helm as he stood in the gateway of the cell block. :It might undo him or even kill. I can't state it enough:
Prime stopped circling, then stepped back. "I would like to get your thoughts on Primeship, Lord Telestar. I think all of your subjects would," Optimus said as he nodded to the others.
Mad optics in a very calm face glanced at the group staring at him with surprise, dread and battle lust.
Roadie was Roadie was Roadie.
Telestar paused himself, considered the question, then turned toward the others. "I am Telestar Prime, the son of Primus. Acknowledge me and my father."
Everyone glanced at each other, then Ratchet bent down to a knee. The others hesitated, then followed including a slightly simmering Roadbuster. Prime bowed deeply.
Telestar stared at them, then Prime. "You may all rise," he said gravely.
They did, staring at him with fascination and dread. Even the ad litems, Blackstone and the pillbox guards stepped out to watch.
"What do you wish to know, Pretender?" Telestar asked. "I grant you an audience before I kill you for your impertinence."
Prime considered his words carefully. "What is your function, first and foremost, Lord Telestar?"
Telestar considered Prime. "It is to serve The People."
"Have you fulfilled your function as their guardian, do you believe?" Prime asked.
It was silent all around them in this area far from others. It was designed to be quiet and calm with features of control that were low key. One could hear the slight breeze ruffle the sand beyond the wire.
"I do. I have fulfilled my function to The People."
"I see that you were a Decepticon once upon a time. How do you reconcile that with being Prime?" Optimus asked.
Telestar stared at him, then glanced around a moment suddenly uncertain. Then it passed as he turned back to Prime. "I protected them."
"How?" Prime asked gently.
"I killed Megatron myself. My father asked me to defend The People. I killed Megatron to end his threat. It was a …" He paused a moment as if trying to remember something, then he looked at Prime. "It was done."
"You have killed Megatron?" Prime asked.
Telestar nodded. "I did."
"Why? What did your father say to make it happen?" Prime said. He bowed slightly. "I am overcome with joy at the news, Lord Telestar. I would like to know, if you may say, what the reason was so that I might tell others and they can feel the joy of your efforts as well."
Telestar stared at him for a moment, then turned to face Prime more directly. "I was asked to end the threat to The People. Megatron is and was a threat. I ended it. The People are safe. I have to take my place as their king. If you would show me the way I can resume my rule." He was silent a moment. "I have need of a herald. If you renounce your claim to the Primeship, I will grant you the honor to be my herald."
Optimus stared at Telestar's optics which glistened with emotions and things he couldn't understand. Then he bowed lowly. "I do, Lord Telestar. I would be honored to serve so great a Prime as yourself."
"Then kneel," Telestar said.
Prime did as guns around the area were trained on Telestar's skull.
"I am Telestar, son of Primus, Lord of Cybertron. I am King of The People and claim sovereignty over them. I have slain demons and restored their safety." He glanced at Prime. "I claim you for my herald. You will attend to me and help me with the well being of The People. Rise, Herald of the Prime of Cybertron."
Optimus rose to his peds, then bowed to Telestar. "I am honored to serve not just the great Prime who saved The People from Megatron but the Son of Primus, Himself."
Telestar nodded. "I know," he said quietly. "I must go to my residence and begin to restore the planet and The People. There is nothing that cannot be left undone. Our people have suffered enough."
Prime stared at Telestar who was completely sincere and unaware of himself. "May I take you there, My Lord?"
Telestar nodded. "You may, Herald. There is much work to do."
A bridge whirling low key nearby was the vehicle in which the Herald of Telestar Prime led the King of The People to his new quarters at a care center for severely mentally ill and dangerous prisoners. He watched him enter into a gentle custody process and waited until he was gone from sight. The turmoil in his chest was not just his own but the Matrix as It reacted to the strange mech. Rarely, It would stir to some terrible event or person, expending compassion or wariness to Prime. It was evident that It was taken to sorrow for the strange pretender.
With a sigh and a heavy step, Optimus stepped through the bridge and left the Center.
Telestar would be there a very, very long time.
=0=
Ratchet watched them leave, Prime leading the big powerful mech toward the bridge to disappear. He glanced at the others, then shook his helm. "I hate this shit. All that war does is break things. That slagger broke under the burden of his actions. He's … he's trying to make up for something that took him down to the ground."
Prowl glanced at Ratchet. "What do you suppose can be done for him?"
"First, he has to have some help with his processor. Then the event or events that made him fall will have to be dug out and examined. This is a very strange case and new to me. Its not that I haven't met a lot of Prime pretenders. Its just that this one seems to be aware of his duties to The People and not a homicidal maniac that wants to destroy everyone. Very strange," Ratchet said as they watched Optimus step back into the area.
He walked to them, then glanced at the empty cell. "That was very sad. I think he means to do his best for The People like a good Prime would."
"Something shook his sanity. I shudder to think what it was since his reaction is to fix and help rather than kill and destroy. I'm giving him to Rung and a student of his who specializes in delusions. This is a rare thing for me, Optimus, a compassionate pretender."
"And for me as well," Optimus said. "Who is next, Winnie?"
She pointed to a cell where a small mech was watching them with wary optics. "That mech is a nut job pure and simple. He likes to kill up close and uses small weapons. There's no nuance about him. He just walks up to mechs and kills them."
"What's his breakage factor, Ratch?" Roadie asked as he considered the shrimp before them.
"Rather high, I'm afraid," Ratchet replied. "I think rushing, then pinning him to be cuffed ped and servo is the best way to take him in one piece. He's always needed weapons? What's his hand-to-hand like?"
"Weak," Winnie said. "I think we don't give him a moment's respite." She turned to her team. "Bring him out swiftly."
The mechs nodded, subbed their weapons, shucked a few from their belts and bandoleers, then walked to the gate to go inside.
The little mech saw them coming, then put the table between him and them. It wouldn't take long but it would be hard fought as the screaming little trussed up mech was carried through the bridge by a couple of guards. They disappeared and so did his noise.
Ratchet watched them go, then glanced toward the mech who was sitting undisturbed nearby in his cell.
"That dreamy mech … he's not affected by the slag. Good. Now these two," Ratchet said scanning the last two cells. "These mechs have internal injuries that they need fixed. Given that they're vital systems and necessary, they'll die if more time is allowed before medical attention."
Ratchet turned to the group. "I want them rushed. Try not to bother their chest areas. One has a damaged spark chamber. The other has two nodes that need rebuilding. If they get too roughed up they could drop dead on the spot. That might not bother you but the slagging paperwork is a deal breaker for me."
The ad litems for the two stared at Ratchet with shock until he winked at them.
"Boys, I'm going in with you," Winnie said. "I know how to take down a spark chamber problem. The other one is yours. Olly, let's go."
Winnie walked to the gate with Oil Can aka Olly and together they entered. The mech inside got set but didn't get far before Winnie had him in a hammer lock and Olly was cuffing him. He cursed with incredible intensity as Roadie carted him through the bridge again.
She glanced at the other, considered her crew, then grinned at Olly. "How about trying for two in a row?"
He grinned at her, this amazing femme commander. "Sure."
Snickers greeted that as they entered to bum rush the slagger. It was over in seconds. Dragging him out cuffed, another mech took him through the bridge as Roadie walked back again.
"What now, Boss?" he asked Winnie as they all stared at the last mech, a very vague appearing mini-con who didn't look stronger than any of them including Ratchet.
"What's his story, infants?" Ratchet asked as he scanned the heavily debilitated mech.
"His name is Wire. He's a mini-con from B-101. He's a scout and knows how to blow things up. He's been shocked a lot," his ad litem said.
"That's evident," Ratchet said. "He's scrambled as an egg."
The ad litem stared at her data pad, then Ratchet. "Is he going to be okay?"
Ratchet considered the data, then the solemn emotional face of the little femme lawyer who was his only friend and guardian. He felt his peds melt a little. "We can work miracles. This little mech is going to be safe and well now thanks to you."
She looked at the mech, then Ratchet with an emotional expression. "I tried to help him. He's so lost in his helm. He's so helpless, Commander. I want to help him and save him."
"You did. You got him condemned. Nothing better could be done for him than that right now," Ratchet said gently. "What's the rest, if any?"
"He's alone. He was picked up wandering around lost in his helm. He was being taken advantage of, shocked by aliens to keep him away. How did that happen to him?" she asked as she stared at him fretfully.
"When soldiers get hurt or die, they're abandoned by the Decepticons. If you can't heal or repair yourself, if there's no one to help you they abandon you. Its why I hate them so much as a doctor. They don't give a damn about their own. He's lucky to be found so we can help him. He could have been pillaged for tech."
"That's part of it, Commander," she said. She looked ready to cry. "Some of his processor is missing. Its believed it was taken from him just before he was taken into custody by Commander Atlas and his network."
Ratchet stared at her, then the little mech. "Frag," he whispered. "Open the gate. Let me see if I can get him to just walk out with me."
Olly opened the gate, then Ratchet walked inside.
The little mech didn't appear to see him as he sat staring at the sky, then his servos.
Ratchet walked up to him, then sat down on the bench at the table beside him. He touched the little mech's shoulder. "Wire, can you hear me?"
The mech stared at his servos a moment, then up at Ratchet. His optics seemed vacant and there were burns that had healed all over him from some kind of electrical device. He stared at Ratchet, then gently leaned into his chassis.
Ratchet slipped his arms around the little mech and hugged him to his chassis.
=0=TBC 1-8-2022
