The Diego Diaries: Confront (dd8 488)

=0=Venture's office, City Hall Governmental Business Annex, Terra

"He was," Venture said of his son's hunt for the Allspark. "They found It. Primus restored all the artifacts both here and at Simfur. Its possible because He's a multiversal singularity. We are the luckiest and happiest group of Cybertronians that exist."

"Is that so?" Tile asked with a soft voice.

Venture felt the burn. He sat forward meeting Tile's gaze levelly. "Yes," he said. "It is."

The three mechs stared at Venture unsettled by his uncharacteristic forcefulness. The mech they remembered was a quiet individual with a slight air of defeat about himself. They knew he had trouble with his son but not what it entailed. He and his bond, Miler were devoted, drawn together in their misery perhaps, decent and religious to the core even for their caste.

"We put in applications here and at the Delegate Assembly. I can write, as you know, bills and legislation as well as legal documents. I would like to continue my specialty here," Medium said.

Venture considered that. "I would speak to the department head of personnel at the Delegate Assembly Annex. Its one of the buildings, the one closest to the street that handles all of the personnel, hirings and such for the Assembly. Its the office building for the delegates. His name is Particle and he's a very good mech." Venture sat back unconsciously folding his arms across his chassis in self defense against his rising anger. "We play on the same bowling team in the Senior Adult League."

"I'm assuming its a game?" Tile asked.

"It is. A very fun one," Ven replied. "You might want to join a league. You meet all manner of folks and some of the best friends I have I met bowling and on the Temple Board."

"You finally made it on the Board," Pardon said with a slight grin. "I know you tried for a very long time."

"Its only here that things are possible for all," Ven replied. "You might want to know that Mraz, Gravitas, Templar and Eronus have taken orders and serve at the Temple both here and on Cybertron."

They stared at him with surprise.

"Truly? I can understand the other three but Gravitas?" Tile asked.

Ven nodded. "Neo and Laret are here as well. Neo teaches in her own classroom for advanced infants at the educational tower in Metro District 2 while Laret is Senior Caregiver of infants at the Sparkling Day school here in Terra. Some of my grandchildren attend both.

"There are a lot of our former caste here making their way brilliantly. Fenix, my colleague down the corridor founded the Iacon Order as a fraternal group to help newcomers and to assist in works in the colony. Its all very wonderful, this place and its affect on others."

It was silent a moment as they took in the news, the great unspoken hanging between them. Medium decided to take the bite. "What about The System. We know Prime outlawed it but … what is the temperature of our brethren here?" he asked.

Ven sat back considering his words. "No one has the stomach for it anymore. There are pockets of resistance and so far they've stayed within the lines. However, the payment for overt resistance is to be charged with treason or honor fight Prime. I wouldn't recommend either myself."

Pardon shifted slightly. "And by whose authority does he state this is so?"

Venture considered the three, intractable all of them. "Besides being the Prime who can? Why, Primus Himself."

=0=N.E.S.T. HQ about the same time

Twenty of the newbie soldiers were getting the tour of the N.E.S.T. Garrison on-world. It was one of the most famous places they could go to having seen it on Platoon: Autobot City' which was soon to return in about a month for its new season along with four new programs involving bots and human actors. Lennox was showing them around.

"This is one of the first facilities built here for humans," he was saying as they gathered around him in the Operational Center. "We maintain the security of the human population, assist the bots in all manner of things, assist the science that goes on here and train everyone who comes to work and fight in this kind of environment.

"You can live about a minute in extreme agony outside if you make a mistake and no one saves you. That's why you have the band on your wrist and the several chips in your arm. I know no one likes chips. I didn't either until the few who've died here were brought in. When you see someone dead from exposure here you thank God that they have the tech to locate and save you in seconds."

He glanced at the mechs who were working nearby repairing a sensor that was glitching. "All of the tech in every human space is maintained and repaired by the Habitation Technology Company, a private firm associated through bid contract with the government. That big ugly plug is Repo."

A mech with a totally relatable and handsome face glanced at them. "You wish you were as pretty as me, Lennox," the big former soldier said to enormous laughter and agreement.

Lennox snickered. "The only handsome thing about you, Repo, are your kids. He has three and they're so damned beautiful it hurts your eyes to look at them. Of course, the same can be said for Repo for different reasons."

Huge laughter rounded again.

"Keep talking, Lennox. A slip of a wrench and you're history," Repo replied goodnaturedly. His rapport with the humans was legendary. "I hear you're giving TED talks to the new habitat. Do tell, shortie."

Lennox grinned. "I let Ratchet do the talking." …

Ratchet sat cross legged on the concourse of the United Nations Multinational Military Garrison to give them the usual chitchat and slag. Joining him and the newbie soldiers were the three highest ranking and/or longest on world, Lennox, Epps, Graham and a number of others along for the fun, Gavin Pritchard, his father, Tam Pritchard, Thomas Lennox, several scientists including Sheila Conroy and newly minted immigrant elders of many different individuals both soldier, scientist and civilian.

"And that's how it happens," Ratchet said with his best blazing smile. It went over their heads but his warmth didn't. He was held in rapturous gazes by the crowd.

"I don't think I understand it but thanks for trying," a soldier said to general agreement and laughter.

"So you're saying … you can transform into big and small things," Jackson Davis began with a yeoman's effort. "Even if you have more mass than the things requires?

"There's a mech who thrives on this ability. Soundwave is a huge mech who can transform into things like a radio that a child can pick up and carry with ease. He's almost as heavy in his total weight as me but I'm heavier because I manufacture medical things in my body. He's just a first class fragger."

Chuckles greeted that along with much head nodding by those who knew from personal experience.

"What he does is he displaces or transfers the greatest mass of his body into subspace. Subspace is a vector or area of space that's enclosed in a larger space. Everyone has one. We just know how to enter it when we need it. He puts the bulk of his body into subspace and leaves out enough to make what he wants. That part of his body, the part that stays here contains his sentience. You may see an object but that object can also see you." Ratchet smiled again as he enjoyed everyone's expression of disbelief.

"What about you, Ratchet?" Sheila Conroy asked as she walked toward him to hug his ped.

He grinned at her. "I can do it. Everyone but children can. Most of us don't. It feels strange. We do it, however, if we need to, most of us to avoid trouble, usually by organics. You have a need to make everything you see into a gun or gun parts."

=0=N.E.S.T. HQ

"I still don't get it," a soldier said as the others nodded. "It makes me afraid of my I-pad."

Huge laughter greeted that.

Repo shook his helm. "Slaggers. All of you are slaggers."

It would go like that at N.E.S.T. HQ during the walk around.

=0=Out there

They came up on two Decepticon vessels, both of them running together. Most of the ships around them were moved away. No one answered as Prime and his crew magnetized to the hull. He rapped his gun but no one answered. Signaling to a shipboarding Seeker, the big mech crept down, cut a hole in the bulkhead, then stood back as Prime and the others entered.

It was dark inside the vessel as they crept along. The signals of habitation were ahead in the flight deck of both ships. They were many, as many as could be crammed into the space and made everyone nervous and wary as they approached the sealed double doors of the command center.

Prime rapped on the door. "This is Optimus Prime. Open the door and let us in. Be peaceful and all will be well. Answer me," he said with controlled fury.

It took a moment as the lock seemed to be fumbled. Then the door slid back. Standing in front of it on the other side was a child, a small child with big optics. He ran back to a crowd of them, children of all sizes and ages. Sitting at the conn surrounded by several elders, a mech stood. "Don't shoot us. We have children, elders, everyone's sick. We came to surrender, us and the other ship."

Prime stepped in as the children pressed back away from him in terror. He moderated his aura, flooding it with peaceful energy and as he did he could see the children and adults relax. "Who are you and what happened?" he asked.

The elder made his way through the crowd to halt before Prime. "We're fleeing Megatron's orders, the death orders, Lord Optimus. Our children who are soldiers got us away. We have to go back to get them. We've dreamed of getting away since forever," he said before bursting into tears.

Moments later…

Ratchet watched the last of them being loaded into runabouts to go to Camber for treatment. They were hungry, tired, had old problems caused by lack of doctors and treatment and were terrified for themselves and those left behind. He glanced at Prime. "This is fragged. If they ever find out this happened they'll kill the garrison. How can you explain two ships disappearing?"

Prime nodded. "Please interview them. Find out where they came from and the situation there. We can go get them."

Ratchet read the tension in Prime. "No one is going to be left behind, I think?"

Prime glanced at Ratchet with cold fury on his face. "No one. Not even Decepticons."

=0=In a high caste ship meeting the usual slag

Songbird, Ace and Metroplex along with a smitten Ambler of Praxus leaned against the wall as Springer and Drift went through the usual futility. The group before them were young, strong and filled with the usual rhetoric.

Songbird glanced at Ace and Metroplex who grinned at her, then stepped forward to kneel between the two Autobots listening with dwindling patience. "I am Songbird."

The group stopped shouting and pointing a moment to unconsciously bow to Songbird. Some things were ingrained into everyone apparently. Love for the big frames was utterly Cybertronian.

"I want you to give up your notions and join us in reality," she said in her lovely voice.

One of them who was caught up in the beauty of her voice, face and format stepped closer. "And if we don't, Lady?" he asked with a slighter but still evident ballsieness.

She smiled, an dazzlingly beautiful thing. "If not, my brothers and I will dismantle this ship nut by bolt by washer."

It was silent a moment as both sides stared at each other, then the mech stepped backward. There would be no more problems with the high castes on board.

=0=TBC 7-31-2022 8-12-2022

LOVE! LOVE LOVE YOU! Happy last day of July or as its called in Alaska, the first day of winter. LOL! HUGS! (Note replies to come shortly.)

ESL

intractable: (in-TRAKT-uh-bl) to be unbending, rigid, not willing to change or learn better ways. A lot of people are intractable in their political views and won't change even if shown evidence that what they believe isn't true.

Yeoman's effort: trying as best you can win, draw or failings

yeoman: (yo-man) either a small farmer or a servant with rank greater than a sargent in someone's household.

Rhetoric: (reh-tor-ik) language designed to have a persuasive or impressive effect on its audience, but often regarded as lacking in sincerity or meaningful content (translation: bullshit)