The Diego Diaries: Migrating (dd8 477)
=0=Springer and Drift
It was standoff, a group of tiny high caste femmes and mechs and the Boyz. Drift who was amused in spite of the futility before him stepped closer, then knelt. "Hi, Amma. Time to give the oath to Raptor and the boys when they come. Its going to be easier and the Caste Court ordered it for you. You do remember the Caste Courts, right?"
She stared at him with blazing outrage, this tiny fossil from the Golden Age then she slapped his face hard.
For her.
"Frag the Caste Courts!" she said as the others behind her nodded.
Drift glanced upward to Springer who was trying hard to suppress a laugh. "Ow?"
The sound of running feet drew their attention as Drift stood back up. At that moment a number of big mechs burst into the room to halt next to the fossils.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY/OUR GREAT GREAT GRANDPARENTS!?" -all of them
Then they jumped everyone.
=0=Hercy and Kup
They stood on the deck of a beautiful ship watching the slow march of the handcuffed head toward the door and a prison ship which was waiting for them. This ship was huge, the one they'd entered to find a very burly and fragged off waiting committee.
After a lot of swearing, yelling and bad acting which the Boyz met with silence and some internal discussion about how the 'high tones' could swear so good, Hercy finally asked: "You giving your oath and coming along or what?"
"FRAG YOU!" the biggest yeller said.
"Okay," Hercy said as he unsubbed his prod, activated it and stuck it against the big mech's codpiece.
He folded like a big tent in a windstorm, flapping and flailing into a puddle on the ground.
Everyone on both sides of the divide took a step back.
Hercy looked at the next guy. "You wanna give an oath and take a ride or what?"
He didn't but he didn't make a federal case out of it. All of them were cuffed in the waiting committee. The rest of the ship was waiting for them to inventory and it would be a lot of high caste individuals.
Heavily fragged off ones.
The Seekers with them, boarding specialists to the last one were leaning against the wall nearby smirking and snarking with the Boyz.
Hercy glanced at them. "Time to earn your shanix, infants. We have to move this ship and its packed up with slaggers. Mind the children but tag the adults electronically if they don't agree. No one walks off this ship without an oath. Any shooting? Remember kids."
They nodded and with the tiny mech leading them, everyone stepped forward to do their duty. It would be a riotous time in the old ship that orn.
=0=Springer and Drift
"I just got word from Amma that Tell is fine and still going to school. Apparently, Deaf Ed continues no matter what, its such a small clientele."
"That's good, the small part. I miss him. When we get back he always looks ten feet taller," Springer said as the last of the fossils were gently carried to the jail ship nearby. He grinned. "They're slagging cute anyway aren't they?"
Drift nodded, then chuckled. "I almost didn't feel that slap."
"Well, I'm sure there's someone out there who can land a good one. Let's go find them," Springer said as he walked toward the door himself and the shuttle waiting. They jumped in and the ship tore out heading for their next oddball encounter.
=0=At the hangar deck
Prowl stood beside Winnie as a group came aboard who wished to speak to Optimus. Since they were former family neighbors back in the orn, he elected to take this one himself.
They were walked off the jail ship, headed toward Prowl, then slowed with surprise when they saw him. "Prowl," Amdil of Praxus said. "I'm surprised to see you but I shouldn't be. You were the Second-In-Command before."
"Professor Amdil. What can I do for you?" Prowl asked coolly.
Amdil glanced around, then stepped closer to Prowl. "You can remove these cuffs. I can't believe the gall. What is this about? Why are we being arrested?"
"Did you receive the messages and informational videos we sent to you?" Prowl asked.
Amdil nodded. With him was Saluous of Praxus, Candless of Capital City and Spar of Crystal City. All of them were here.
"Then what appears to be the problem?" Prowl asked as Winnie stood beside him, sleek, cat-like in her menace and silently watchful.
"We find it preposterous. What is this? We came because we had to. Now you tell us this?" Amdil sputtered.
Prowl nodded. "If you go with these mechs I will send you more information. Until then, we have several millions to rescue."
"Prowl, we intend to pursue this. We don't intend to let this drop," Spar said ominously.
"No, I suppose you don't. Thanks for the heads up," Prowl said as he nodded to the guards. He watched with no small satisfaction as the intellectual and philosophical mechs behind The System of Exception, the mechs who broadcast, taught, think tanked and published for its horrors and limitations were hauled off without ceremony.
"I don't like them, Prowler," Winnie said with a chuckle. "I never watched them and I erased their books wherever I could."
"I burned them," Prowl said with a grin.
They would both walk back to their jobs with satisfaction and no small amount of dread.
=0=Sometime later at a new ship, a big one with questionable clientele
"I hear that Hercy and the boys have a live one," Springer said as he caught a comment on the open line. "They get the good ones."
"We get the ammas and appas who need to be in a nursing home," Drift said. "There's no justice."
They floated to a new ship, one that didn't respond to calls. Magnetizing on the hull, signaling the Seekers dotting it, he rapped on the hatch. Shooting erupted through the door.
Springer glanced at Drift, then grinned. "Maybe I spoke too soon."
"You?" Drift asked with a chuckle.
They would have a jolly old time.
=0=On the deck shortly later
Prowl walked to Prime, then leaned over to speak to him. :Guess what the tide brought in?:
Prime glanced upward. :I am afraid to ask:
:Professor Amdil of Praxus, Spar of Crystal City, Saluous of Praxus and Candless of Capital City. They're upset:
Prime frowned, then smirked slightly. :Terrible news. Nice to hear they're in jail. We need to have a strategy:
:I already have one: Prowl said coldly.
Oddly enough, Prime didn't feel better knowing that. Trouble had arrived on their shores once again.
=0=Ratchet
He floated into the ship where a number of unhealthy individuals had been found. He walked down the corridor with a grinning Wrecker and four very intense and hero-worshiping Home Guardsmen who met Lissie's standard for 'semi combat-risk low' missions.
:Those kids are golden, Congo: Ratchet said.
:I have kids their age. I love this age, sort of old enough to be responsible but young enough to hero worship anyone with skills: Congo replied.
Ratchet grinned. :I know. We have some seriously cute kids in our colony:
They reached a room filled with adults and a few children who looked poorly. They were surrounded by healthy adults and a few elders who looked at Ratchet with a mixture of hope and wariness.
He entered, then began to scan. "My name is Ratchet of Iacon. I'm the Chief Medical Officer of the Autobot Army, our colonial system, Cybertron and the Empire. I'm here to get you ready for transport and to assess the situation as it stands. If we work together these folks can get on with getting better."
No one disagreed as Ratchet walked to the worst cases, a pair of children that were laying on soft blankets on a berth nearby. He knelt to look at them. "Well, aren't you two the cutest little things."
They stared at him with the optics of sickness, unable to speak back from their weariness.
He examined them, then subbed a needle. Inserting it into their neck port, he waited as the numbers he sought increased slowly.
A femme and two mechs were hovering over him.
"How are they? Will they … what's going to happen now?" a mech asked.
"Well, I gave them a nutrient that they'd never gotten because they have what the humans call an auto-immune disease. Their bodies are attacking themselves because it isn't there to balance their systems. I just introduced it and its going to help. What they need is a treatment plan at the convalescence hospital for children that we have in our colony. That's where they're going as soon as they stabilize."
"Then they're going to be well again? Normal?" the femme asked. "My grandchildren will be good again?"
"Yes," Ratchet said as he stood up to turn to them. "Its a process arresting and reversing this but its begun."
It felt like the air deflating from a balloon.
"What I need to know is simple. Are you going to give your oath, go into our colony and live like The One commands or are you going to be slagging trouble like too many of you right now?" Ratchet asked directly.
They stared at him, all of them, then the femme seemed to deflate as well. "I'm sorry for that."
"Amma?" a mech standing nearby asked with surprise.
She turned to him. "I'm sorry for the lack of gratitude we came here with. I'm sorry for the lack of humility. He just helped our babies and we're acting like clowns. We were driven away like anyone else. Nothing about this," she said tapping her tattoo, "prevented it. What good is it if no one respects it? It didn't save our babies did it. You did," she said as she glanced at Ratchet. "You did and you didn't have to."
"I did," Ratchet said. "Everyone of our people is precious to me. There isn't one I wouldn't go into fire to recover. All of you, even your caste is precious to me." He glanced at the kids who looked better. They were looking back at him with their bright optics. "What doesn't matter to me is a past that created where we are now. We're here by choice. We can end it right here and right now by choice. I think you get it, Amma."
She stared at Ratchet, then nodded. "I've cried oceans of tears for my babies and none of us understood what was happening to them. Then we were forced out by the Decepticons abandoning our lives. It was useless then, wasn't it. We didn't have a prayer then and not before. It didn't matter, all the things we think are important. It didn't save us or prevent a thing. What's the good of it if it means nothing when we need it most?"
"Nothing, Amma," Ratchet said quietly. He looked at the kids. "Well look at you. Look at your sweet little faces."
Everyone glanced at the kids who were staring around at them and Ratchet. Then one of the babies grinned weakly.
The femme knelt beside them. "We're going to a new place and you'll get well. Then you go to school and make a lot of friends, all kinds of friends." She stood, then turned to the others. "I won't be tolerating anything less than that from anyone. Let's help our fellow Cybertronians help us. That's what The One wants and that's what we'll do. Learn from this now."
Apparently, they would.
Most of them.
=0=On the deck
Prowl sat at the command table hunched over the map. It was adding ships to the picture as they were scanned. A group of Decepticons had traveled together, obviously running from their bases and joining as they did. Jack was preparing to contact them as Optimus managed a number of things pending.
Nearby in their travel case, the humans ate a dinner that was packed for them by the kitchen at Earth2 which had the contract. Their travel container provided the facilities and places to sleep. No one wanted to leave. All of them were fascinated by the show outside and the split screen monitor forward of them that was filled with smaller images of different mechs taking care of business in the field.
They watched a tiny femme backhand Drift, Springer fly upside down into a bulkhead by a mech with surprising skills, Ratchet care for little kids and any number of other teams meeting slag head on for the good of all. Hercy became a god in their pantheon with one deft stroke of his prod.
It was awesome.
They sat in their chairs shoveling it in while their eyes were riveted on the screen. Even the ones who came all the time. It would be a marvelous introduction into the Way of the Mech for the noobs.
=0=Home
They walked together into the Delegate Assembly Office Complex heading for a suite that belonged to the brand new delegate for District 132-A/B. Leading them along was Docker who was delegate for District 1-A and B herself. Chatting as they entered the elevator, they rose to the seventh floor where they exited to continue onward.
"This is so exciting," Docker said as they reached the office door that led to the delegate suite inside.
They paused a moment to note the name painted on the door, freshly delivered to the new resident, Coros of Polyhex, Delegate for District 132-A/B.
"That's awesome, Coros," Sil said as she stood beside him. "There's your name and all."
Coros who felt the impact immediately nodded mutely. Shit was real.
"Let's go inside and I'll help you organize," Docker said with a chuckle after she subbed her camera. The cameras held by Coros's family and the recorder that Barrett was using along with the small one his parents held rolled along as they entered the huge series of rooms that would be his.
It was a moment to remember.
=0=TBC 7-15-2022 7-24-2022
FEELING THE REBOUND FROM COVID! Feels like a million bucks. TAKE CARE OUT THERE, MY DARLINGS!
