The Diego Diaries: Out There (dd8 394)

=0=In a rocky gaseous area of space near a vast and demonic area of destitution

They gathered into the gaseous area where a burst of something or other had laid down a luminous slightly radioactive and sulfuric cloud. They entered to avail themselves of its properties which allowed them some modicum of shielding against anyone passing by with good sensors. Dai Atlas and his partners in their enterprise, Star Saber and Recoyl from The Network walked out of the elevator onto the deck of Camber after bridging over.

Everyone greeted each other, some of them old friends from the beginning of all time, then settled around a data pad that was updating information and maps fed to it by Atlas and Recoyl.

"There's 50 settlements now because we consolidated two into another small one. I have people there who will signal where to come to get everyone. They don't have much but they want to bring some things and their dead," Atlas said.

"Its a policy of Prime that no one is left behind. No one has to suffer the loss of a deceased loved one if we can help it," Hardie said.

Atlas nodded. "Its a deal breaker for some. We have the path planned out. The 'Cons are patrolling farther out every orn. They want to build a buffer here because there's hostiles that hide in the rifts somehow. We don't know how they do it or who and what they are but they're pretty awful. Some of their patrols have never returned. We have to get moving."

"Lead us. Can we go with the titans or do we relay with the shuttles to them?" Raptor asked.

"We have to go in with all we got. If we get into it with someone then we have power to defend. I want to get through this without a fight if we can so lets power in and get it done," Atlas said.

"Can we map them or do you have that already?" Turbine asked.

"We have it," Star Saber said. "We'll send it."

"Very well. Lead us in, Dai," Hardie said.

They would group up into a defensive formation, then head outward into the darkness to find 50 settlements waiting for rescue since The Fall of Cybertron.

==0=Home

Ratchet walked to the Medical Center to do rounds. The last of the Meadow Lands patients were getting ready for discharge. Some of them would be heading for treatment centers to convalesce with help. Their degree of Caches Disease and Level 6 Dementia had been life threatening to an extreme. Others would go to transitional housing where they would be helped everyday by Home Healthcare teams who would be their lifeline for an indefinite period of time.

The mental portion of their trauma had rectified itself with treatment, good food and assistance. They were themselves again and that was a spectrum of self awareness. Some were flummoxed with the changes and said nothing. Some were unable to process that this sort of life could be possible without the 'right' leadership and the fact that it was confused them terribly. Many were still dazed and confused about what actually was happening. Others were just the same old slaggers they were on their colony world but more careful about being too 'noisy' about it.

Most of the time.

Some things are a process.

Ratchet walked into a room with three elders, brothers who were leaders of the colony with the others. They were sitting on their berths after being checked by the experts. Because they were on a Primal hold itself, only Ratchet or Prime had the authority to dismiss them to their lives, whatever that was determined to be.

These three were going to a care center for the elderly ill in Central Point and perhaps from there to an apartment in the third tier housing. That would mean living free but with access to health care in the urban center designed to care for and protect them. It was still unknown how well they would live alone without it at their age and state of debilitation.

Ratchet looked at them, then picked up the data pad that held their charts. He perused it, then glanced at them. "You three are going to be discharged to a long term care facility where you're going to be given the right treatments at the right time by experts. We're still not sure that your processors are up to stress and able to remember what you need to do to recover."

They stared at him assessing without hiding it his low caste tattoos. One of them stood up, steadied himself, then glanced at Ratchet. "Who are you?"

"I'm the head of the entire medical establishment for the Empire and this hospital. I have the Prime's brief which means I have his hold. If I say you can go you will but not to your homes as of yet. You still need concentrated care and that comes at the Recovery Center at Central Point, an assisted living development we built just for this."

"And if we say otherwise?" the mech said. He was Chastain, a mech who had influence in his town back in the orn. He was a banker who ran rather than owned one. Sometimes not every high caste had great power, prestige and influence. This was someone's second or third son and thus, he was 'the priest'.

"Then I can order you to go and even have you put into protective custody. That means that the court will be arbiter of what happens to you based on the data of your progress. You can either do the right thing now and show gratitude for the possibility of it or go in cuffs," Ratchet said.

They stared at him, three relics of a long dead past, then Chastain sat down again from unsteadiness. "You have no right to speak to me that way. I have no intention of having you tell me what to do. You don't have the power to do so, low caste."

Something about Chastain welled up in Ratchet as emotional and pitying. He was a sick doddering old mech and was as ineffectual as could be. Yet he stood up to do battle for an old dying paradigm and somehow it struck Ratchet as sad and melancholic. "I do. I have the authority to release or not someone in a Primal hold. Your entire party is in the hold."

"Prime has no authority over us," another mech said, one seemingly older and more confused. His name was Langley and he looked like he wasn't clear where he was.

"Look, boys," Ratchet said. "None of you are in good shape. But you will be. All you have to do is what you can. I know you're confused and you don't know what's happening but try and focus. I'm going with you to the new place. You'll love it. A lot of your fellows are there."

Ratchet walked to the door, then peered out. Down the corridor came three big orderlies and three wheelchairs. He held the door open as they walked in, listened to the three frail old mechs argue, then out they came. They were upset but unable to muster the energy to get out of their chairs. Ratchet followed them to the elevator, the trip down and out to the runabout that would fly them with him to Central Point Long Term Treatment Center.

They would be taken in protesting all the way and housed together in a transitional apartment-like room that had access to the main facility and its homelike atmosphere. They would stay there to get better however long it took. They would be joined by nearly all of the elders of their group. Eventually they would find it restful and peaceful even if all the workers there were mostly low castes.

Such was the illness inside the illness of the elders of Meadow Land.

=0=Out there

They left the colonies that had combined with 1,200+ individuals in the confines of Camber. They'd been ready with their families, things and some caskets of the dead. It was with humbling gratitude that this group of former mid castes were rescued. They were just the start. If all went well this area would be free of refugees hiding away from war and strife by the time they left.

Raptor sat on a chair next to Turbine watching him make more maps and organize the pick up of the next group of 3,592 individuals who had a very nice colony where they made a lot of experimental energon producing machines, something that started out as a necessity and became a friendly competition between several families. Sciences would be happy as clams to get them and see their stuff.

Raptor glanced around the deck, then rose to stand beside his father. "I'll be glad when we're out of here. The Decepticons can come in ten different directions at us."

"That's true. The titans for me are more for show and rescue. I'm not sure how I'd feel about having them shoot anyone out here," Hardie said with a slight grin. "Might be the best fireworks we ever see as we shuffle off to the Matrix."

Raptor chuckled. "Yeah. Its a nice consolation prize for the audacity."

Both mechs grinned as they closed the distance following Dai Atlas and his companions.

=0=Home

Prowl hurried home to pick up a data pad he'd forgotten. He entered The Residence, then found it on the desk in the shared office. Walking out, he halted. Standing before him was Solus Prime. He stared at Her, glanced around, then found himself falling to his knee assemblies. "Lady."

"Prowl," She said with a grin. "You may stand, you know. Its easier on the knees."

Prowl glanced downward, then rose swiftly. He clutched the data pad with uncertainty, then stepped closer. "What are you doing here?"

Solus chuckled. "I thought I would check on My decorating and get your opinion on it."

Prowl glanced around, then turned to Her. "Lady … I can't find words to thank you enough. You saved the things that were precious to us, the things the children made."

She nodded. "I did. I don't like to see Optimus self abuse. He takes things way too closely to spark."

"I know. He … he cares about everything and everyone. Sometimes I wish he didn't so much but then he wouldn't be Optimus," Prowl said. He glanced around flustered. "Can I get you anything? A seat? I can call Optimus."

"No," She said with a grin. "I wanted to see you."

"Me?" Prowl asked with surprise.

She nodded. "I never got to thank you for being his friend and companion. The children are wonderful. He needed to have them. He never puts himself first. Its his glory and his biggest challenge. When he works on the trains with the children I feel his joy."

"They built that together," Prowl said. "He … he's the best father. When the little mechs needed someone it was only the beginning of the best part of our lives, the family. His genitors, mine … most of them," Prowl said ruefully.

"Your family is divided but that's to be expected," She said. "Few families get away cleanly from the past. In time they will. Its a choice they have to make."

"They don't seem to understand that Lord Primus Himself said that this was over," Prowl said. "Sometimes I despair."

"Don't, Prowl," Solus said. "In the end everyone comes home again. All you have to do is remember that all of us are one and that some have a longer journey to that simple truth than others. Your grand genitors will get there."

"I hope so. They love the children. I worried that they'd treat the little mechs differently somehow," Prowl said. "I've hated The System since I was born."

"I know," Solus said. She grinned. "Its done and Optimus will prevail because he comes from love. If you do that then life is better not just for you but everyone. The People have suffered. Don't despair. All will come to understand in their own time," She said before She faded away.

Prowl stared at Her as she did, then reached out to the space where She stood. She was gone.

He hurried to The Fortress once again.

=0=TBC 3-21-2022

NOTES:

In the old days, the first born inherited, the rest foraged. If you were a kind, your first born was your heir and the second was given to the priesthood. You became 'the priest' in your family.