The Diego Diaries: Searching (dd8 492)

=0=At the Port

He stared at the crowd searching it discreetly for anything anomalous. Anything that stood out or didn't fit was added to his database of information that could be used to figure out what might be amiss in the sea of emotions facing him. The lines snaked onward as among them the now former high castes shuffled along like anyone else.

Topix was a top private investigator on Cybertron once upon a time and had been a force to help his friend and fellow sleuth Calisman uncover sleaze and corruption that had precipitated unrest that led to the revolution. He was fearless, stealthy like Devcon was, someone with whom he had a personal and professional relationship with having worked on mutual cases before and was someone feared like Devcon as well.

The line up before him was from Camber and part of a big passenger vessel that had been problematic for the rescue teams. There were the usual mix in the group with a number of sub adult children, more than usually seen. One of them was a nervous appearing femme who kept looking around as if in surprise.

The adults with her read as high caste professional mechanisms, the kind who worked mid level in banks or corporations. They wouldn't be the type that did any kind of physical labor and because most of them were he wondered who did at their settlements.

Topix walked up to the little femme. "Hi. You look worried."

She looked up at him. "I don't know what's going to happen."

Topix knelt. "You're going in there," he said pointing to the door nearby which was slowly getting closer as they edged along. "You go in, they read your tags," he said pointing at hers, "then they tell you what's possible, how to do things, how long you have to get organized without a special reason, hand you over to an escort, then take you to your new life."

Adults were listening to him and weren't edgy about it. Topix was a former high caste himself, a scion of a family who made zillions in electronic surveillance equipment, thus his profession.

"Do you want me to help you?" Topix asked.

She looked at him, then the adults. "Could you?" she asked.

"Done deal," Topix said as he rose to introduce himself to the group with her.

He would find out that they were in banking, that they were irate that they 'had to live here like this', that they weren't going to be happy 'ever again' and that they'd see what the rest of 'their community' had to say about this.

Topix didn't disabuse them of that thought. But he did commiserate with them and listen sympathetically. The more they talked, the more he learned. He would go with them all the way to their homes, all of them.

=0=Morning

They reached the assisted living facility at Central Point to meet Budge and Mystic for breakfast. The highways were filled with buses taking refugees to new homes, the usual daily bustle of a giant metropolitan civilization going about their business and school transports finishing up their runs.

By the time they wound their way up the terraced drive to the Central Point Plateau, the children would be in school and all would settle down but for the refugees who would be coming for days. Walking to the Center, they entered to find Budge and Mystic sitting on couches in the home-like entry waiting for them.

"HELLO!" Appa Ratchet said as he hugged both of them. "You look so well."

"I feel better, better than I can remember," Budge said with a grin at his brother. "You look well, Ratch. Don't be worried about us."

"I am," Ratchet said. "You're my family, both of you. We always look after our family. Right?" he asked the others.

Tie, Ravel who was holding Tell in a blanket cocoon, Chan and Corr nodded.

"We do," Corr said with a big smile. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"I am," Mystic said. "Is that our little baby? Tell?"

"It is. Let's go sit and you can hold him. He needs to know his family, Mystie," Corr said sweetly.

They walked into the room to sit at a table while the cheerful attendants brought their food to them. It would be peaceful and happy for all of them.

=0=Prison

They stood at the bars of their prison enclosure. They were the hot heads that were picked up from the migration. Across the way was the temporary enclosure that held the hardcore prisoners and Decepticon troublemakers that were also gathered. Both sides stared at each other with hatred and disgust.

"Look at those scum," a high caste mech said. "Did you ever see such wastes of space in your life?"

The criminal group which was waiting processing into the general population pending hearings which were short, document heavy and usually ended in jail listened with growing agitation and hatred. Finally, one stepped forward, someone who looked dangerous as frag and ready to kill everyone on the other side. "Frag you, fraggers. How about I come over there and kill you?" he snarled.

The high castes laughed.

"Stupid idiot. What can you expect though?" one said as the others nodded. "Frag you, idiot. How can you do that when you're in a cage?"

That was when the Decepticon removed what should have been his finial, touched it to the bars and dropped them for his cell group.

=0=Out there

They took a food break as the analysts who had final data were working out the make up and breakdown for the migration. All of the data had finally been collected and there were teams dedicated to different portions of it working out what everyone needed to know. From that, they would tweak their efforts.

"I just heard that the migration is 9,532,652. They upgraded it slightly. Of that," Drift said pausing as if to listen, "5,237 are high castes from five settlements. The rest are the usual with a number of aliens departing now to go home."

"That sounds like a lot when you think about it but the colony is approaching 370,000,000 now," Hercy said. "Magnus would have the actual total."

"I remember when 57 was a flood and that first 1,000 plus migration with Ada the only doctor nearly capsized us," Springer replied. "The good old orns."

Drift nodded. "I remembered I hated you at first sight."

"To know him is to hate him," Sunstreaker said with a chuckle.

"Truer words never spoken," Sideswipe said. "What happened to you?"

Springer smirked. "He got a good look at this," he said flexing his chassis, "and that's all she wrote."

Snickers went around the space.

"How many high castes are left to bag?" Lon asked as he sat beside Bezel finishing his meal.

"300, I think. We have 225 in jail, 97 in the hospital and the rest in the colony now. 300 more to go, then the 'Cons again," Springer said.

"How many 'Cons left?" Sandstorm asked. He was lounging against the bulkhead enjoying a beer,

"Lots, I was told," Springer replied. "That is unless the titans bagged them all. Ace, Metroplex and the others are having too much fun with this."

=0=Ace, Metroplex and The Others™

"That's four ships down and more to go," Metroplex said as he carved another notch on the barrel of his gun. "This is getting to be addictive."

Ace grinned. "I do believe you like this too much."

"I probably do," Metroplex said as he glanced at The Others™. "How about we go next door and pay the Decepticons a visit?"

They all thought that would be slagging neighborly and away they went to another round of 'Hello, we're the - BLAM!BLAM!BLAM!'.

=0=At the prison

Several things happened at once.

The sirens for the perimeter of the permanent 'temporary prisoner holding facility-in transit' went off when the bars went down in one of the bigger pens. When they did the bars of everywhere in the grid that hadn't fallen doubled in strength. If they failed over 2,000 maniacs would be loose. The grid holding the few big mouthed high castes was on a different system and would hold them no matter what happened.

Hopefully.

What wouldn't help them was that 67 big HIGHLY pissed off Decepticons began to stalk toward the high caste's cage.

=0=Prowl

He glanced at Prime with concern. "I just was told that the grid went down in a Decepticon holding area and 67 of them are loose in the prison."

Optimus glanced at Prowl sharply. "What is the situation?"

"Hauser and Paragon are on it," Prowl said.

Prime relaxed slightly. "Keep me up on it."

Prowl nodded. He would.

=0=Cutting cross country after aborting going back to the migration

Ratchet poured it on with sirens and lights as he cut across the colony toward the prison far away. It would take less time for him on the highway given that his top speed in good circumstances was nearly 400 miles per hour.

When he reached the gates he was allowed in using his automated key signal that opened things without assistance as he hurried in without problems. He ran down the road to the turnoff that led to the holding area for short term prisoners.

A riot was ongoing.

=0=Springer and Company

"There's a riot going on back home," Springer said as he took the message.

"Do we go?" Bezel asked.

Springer listened. "No. Hauser and Paragon got it. Somehow about 67 Decepticons got out, opened the pen of an unknown number of high castes who were razzing them and its on."

=0=There

The mechs walked toward the high caste pen with murder in their optics. All of them were big, hardcore and unafraid. All of the high castes were terrified, paper pushers and smaller in stature. If they were bigger it wouldn't matter. These fraggers were killers and had no fear.

The big mech with the trick finial reached the high caste pen, grinned with incredible malevolence at those inside, then touched his finial device against the bars. It jolted along with his arm and took three touches before the grid of the pen went down. That's when they ran howling with murder into it.

As they did that the rapid response teams of the prison and two from the Emergency Response Center Standby Building that was part of the new base that was being built ten miles from the prison leaped into action. The army groups came howling in and joined the prison teams as they ran like the wind down the road to the riot.

=0=Around the area watching with horror (on one side and glee on the other)

The remaining mass of high caste prisoners stared with uncomprehending horror as the bars fell and a riot of flailing arms, fists and screaming poured inside. They grabbed everything in their path but for a small femme who crouched in the corner and began to bang them together like cymbals.

That's when the sniper towers nearby got a bead and began to shoot into the crowd with null ray rifles.

=0=Prime

He stepped out of a bridge to walk to the howling riot nearby, pausing beside Ratchet who was standing out of the way of incoming null rays from guard towers nearby. The noise level was incredible and the fighting fierce as the intervention teams poured into the cramped space.

It would be incredible to see.

=0=TBC 8-5-2022 edited 8-6-2022

ESL

razzing: (rah-zing) to bother someone verbally, catcalling or hazing, slinging shit. All of that is razzing.