The Diego Diaries: Callow (dd8 396)

=0=On board

He walked across the deck toward the gathering of his elders, those that weren't flying shuttles or involved in the hoo-haw directly. Sitting in a chair at the table that was 'miraculously' open, he glanced around. Everyone was smirking or smiling at him. It read suspicious. "What's up?"

Ironhide glanced at Ratchet who was here as well. "What are you doing here? I thought this group was sound."

"They mostly are. We just missed you. Right?" Ratchet asked as he glanced around at the others.

Everyone nodded.

Ironhide frowned slightly, a delightful expression for his doting elders. "What's going on?"

"We just had a chat with Ratchet who had a chat with Drift and Springer. We decided unanimously that Ratchet would tell you. Right?" Turbine asked as he glanced around the table and seats nearby.

Everyone nodded, then grinned.

"What, Old Mech?" Ironhide asked as his frown deepened. He didn't bother to hide it given the circumstances though he tried when he could. His elders had a problem with his cuteness.

"Well, I was doing my job as I do, don't ya know. Sitting in my office when one of our many children gave me a call," Ratchet said as he sat back to bullshit. "It was Springer. He told me that you have an opponent in the next School Board election."

It was silent a moment as Ironhide digested that news. His frown deepened. "Who? What slagger would run against me? The People want me. I trend on Twitter and Bullhorn."

Snickers rounded the bend as Ironhide glanced from one to the other, then landed his optics on Ratchet. "Who?"

"Someone you knew from way back in the orn. His name is Callo of Praxus," Ratchet finally said with his most dazzling smile.

It was silent a moment, then it wasn't.

"WHAT THE FRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAG!? THAT SLAGGER!?"

=0=A few moments later

He sat at the nexus for information from Teletraan working out what he could to find the nemesis bot of his childhood and the run up to sub adulthood before college and the Academy saved both sides from killing each other. It was enormously illegal to run a check on someone without a good purpose but he didn't care. He tapped away furiously as everyone around him watched with a grin.

"Doesn't he look like he always did when he had a report or assignment due the next orn and he was up slagging it out the night before? Brings back memories," Hardie said with a chuckle.

"I remember him trying to plagiarize a time or two as well," Alor said with a chuckle. "The vocabulary was always a dead giveaway."

Ironhide ignored them as he dug through a number of databases both on Mars and Cybertron. When the returns came in he sat back. "Frag. The whole mangy mob showed up."

"Tell me about it," Blackjack said darkly.

"Ironhide swiveled in his chair to face his family. "I'll beat him."

Everyone nodded.

"No one would vote for him. I've done good here. Right?"

"You have." -Everyone of them

Ironhide frowned. "That fragger isn't going to beat me in this election. Who knows him?"

"No one," Ratchet said as he walked to Ironhide and sat his big old hootage on the big mech's lap. "You're going to beat his aft. I'll make sure of it."

Ironhide who peered around Ratchet to look upward at him frowned. "Not on your life, Old Mech."

"Trust me, Ironhide. I already have my ensembles for this picked out," Ratchet said with a dazzling smile.

Bedlam broke out.

=0=In The City at a restaurant with family and like minds

Callo of Praxus enjoyed his food as the group with him chatted about this and that thing since coming to the colony three decaorns before. They'd lived in a settlement that was divided by caste, the smaller and more vocal group of high castes finding a way to keep contact with everyone else to a minimum. The orn that Dai Atlas and Star Saber landed on their planet to pull them off to 'the promised land' was epic. It was also problematic with all the associated hoo-haw.

Atlas strode through the small settlement with an expert optic about moving everyone. They'd been told ahead of time to be ready to go and everyone was including the upper crust. Things were palletized waiting for the word. He paused before a mech he'd contacted, a mid caste named Portio. "Are you the leader here?" he'd asked.

Portio smirked slightly. "Most would say so but its not unanimous." He glanced across a broad dirt road to a group of high castes watching the show with suspicion.

Atlas walked to the group, then considered them. Immaculate mechs and the odd femme of all ages stared at him with suspicion and the usual bullshit. He was a deeply charismatic and formidable mech but it seemed lost on them as they searched out his tats.

He had none. Dai Atlas was exempt.

"Who speaks here?" he asked as Star Saber and the others waited across the great divide, the wide dirt road separating habitation zones.

"I do," Corme of Praxus replied. He was staring at the group with a cross expression on his face and his arms folded over his chassis.

"Who are you?" Atlas asked calmly. One of his favorite things was denaturing entitled beings. He was used to the ingratitude of the few as opposed to gratitude of the many. His mechs watched with amusement among the tense group of low and mid castes they first greeted.

"I'm Corme of Praxus. I would like to know where we're going and what awaits us," he said.

"We're going to a big staging camp, then onward to the main one, Omega Base. There you will rest and be given medical treatment while you learn about your final destination which I will tell you now isn't Cybertron," Atlas replied.

"We aren't interested in going from camp to camp. We want to go home," Blisto, Corme's bond said.

"That's out of your hands," Atlas replied. "You're going away from here to a staging area, then you'll be transferred to a camp that's safe and preparatory to going to your final destination, a colony world called Mars. So get organized. We're leaving in a few moments."

With that Atlas walked back to the other group, expressed a few words, then everyone began to get the group and their baggage moving. As they did Corme's group watched, then turned to their stuff. It would appear they'd have to carry it themselves.

They did with ill will.

=0=On a ship heading for a new place

They were loaded in without regard for caste or attitude. The big mechs of the Network, Circle and Knights were mixed with specialist Autobot technicians, medics and soldiers assigned to help with security. They came to the camp in bridges, did their tours, then went home at night to Cybertron or Mars.

It was a job.

Corme and Blisto sat on the deck side-by-side watching things silently. Their soon-to-be former colonial comrades were ignoring them as they took refreshments and drinks from the techs who brought them around.

One knelt beside a femme with three kids. He grinned. "We're going to take a baseline so we know how you are and can plan treatments if they're needed," he said. He plugged into the femme and began to record not just her vitals but her identity as well to make a record for her and the Bureau of Refugees and Immigration.

"Why are they doing that, Appa?" a child asked who was sitting nearby.

Corme glanced down the deck to see one of their own asking his brother the question.

Corme's brother, Hixus shrugged. "I don't know."

An Autobot soldier who was leaning against the wall stared at the kid, then his father or who he though was the father for a second. "Just so you know … Prime has outlawed The System of Exception in the Empire and wherever Cybertronians live. The correct answer to that kid's question was the medic was helping a fellow Cybertronian to be well. You better get it straight."

Hixus glanced up with anger on his face. "Is that so? Frag you. Prime doesn't have the authority."

The mech grinned, then glanced at the tech. "Slaggers. Better get a vaccine for this soon," he said as he glanced at Hixus again. "How about you call a Caste Court to settle it then?" this mid caste Praxian soldier replied. "Three have tried. All of them have failed."

"The Caste Courts are rigged," Corme said. "Everyone knows that. The Courts are a joke."

"I'll be happy to tell Hard Drive, Raptor, Blackjack, Delphi, Ironhide and Turbine that you said so. They're running this rescue. What was the name again?" he asked as he leaned closer to show his own tats, that of a mid caste from Praxus.

Corme and Hixus didn't supply any names.

=0=At last at Omega Base

They stayed at the staging area for three orns in simple quarters with simple food. It was one of the more hopeful places in the universe with the refugees there feeling the first breath of freedom from fear and the hope of a better safer life among their own kind.

The camp was vast and adding more every orn as ships came and went, some from huge distances away. Security there was incredible and there were every kind of Cybertronian in every kind of condition. Medical was stellar, the housing much better and the food abundant and well made.

Corme and his son, Callo walked down rows of tents on hard compacted pathways as they explored the camp which seemed to go on forever. There was a heavy military presence along with communications tech that defied anything they'd ever seen. The tech edge that made them so invincible seemed to have continued.

It was then that they found the tent where continuous videos of their next stop were playing endlessly, videos of a place called Autobot City on a world called Mars.

Some joors later …

They walked out of the tent amazed at what they'd seen. They were also amazed at seeing some of the mechs and femmes who ruled that place in various positions of influence. They'd seen Neo and Laret. They'd seen every adult member of Hard Drive's family along with Prime, Prowl and Ultra Magnus.

It was disconcerting in the extreme.

They walked back to their tent, then entered to find everyone there. Sitting, Corme glanced at his bond, the rest of his family and three friends who had left with them in the Exodus. "The next destination is a vast complex cityscape of endless sophistication. Cybertron is a mess. We won't be going there anytime soon but this place, Autobot City is incredible."

"I would think the videos were wrong but for the gossip I've heard here. The soldiers, most of them that are straight army come from there every orn to work here along with medical and data personnel. They corroborate the videos," Callo said.

"Then we're going to a good place, one better than the colony or other places?" Lasher, Corme's father asked. He was a former diplomat who was part of the government of four primes. He was a business attache to Sentinel in the last government and a hard nosed individual with little give.

"Define better," Corme said grimly. "The System is abolished and if you want it back you have to honor fight Prime."

It was silent as they soaked up that bit of news.

"Also, Hard Drive and all his family are there including Ironhide," Callo said grimly. "They practically run the show."

Lasher frowned. "Then we have to find a way to bump them out. We'll lay low, check things out, then make a plan. I don't intend to not be a diplomat. Its what I do."

Callo chuckled mirthlessly. "That job is Ratchet's."

"Temporarily," Lasher said coldly. "I was the diplomat of record for generations. I don't intend to yield ground now."

"Well, we'll see," Callo said. "Ratchet is Ironhide's bond. Ironhide has the Prime's audial. Its going to take finesse."

Lasher nodded. "It will but then what is the essence of diplomacy than both those virtues," he said.

It wouldn't be a long wait at Omega Base before they began the short walk through the huge bridges toward a new life on Mars.

=0=TBC 3-24-2022 edited 4-11-2022

ESL

Disconcerting: (dis-conn-sert-ing) off putting, making one uneasy or nervous, something that makes you want to leave or feel weird

hootage (hoot-udg) Ratchet's big old backside