The Diego Diaries: Getting It Going (dd8 209)
=0=Morning after school buses run past
Ironhide trudged along the street with elders who were going to The Fortress to bridge to Las Vegas and Cybertron. He was heading there to check in with Prime and Prowl. His thing was Prime's so he was nearly always at elbows with Optimus. Ratchet had left for the Medical Center next door to their tower to do the orn's battles with whatever came.
The streets had been heaped with sand and dirt that had been plowed like snow plows would do with snow anywhere else onto the sidewalks by trucks running day and night to move debris. Smaller trucks that could drive on sidewalks were sweeping the sand into holding tanks which could be dumped at the site chose just outside of town for all of it. The final destination was the refinery where it would be used to make things such as glass.
It was dusty yet as the silty talcum-like powder left in the air drifted at its own pace to settle again. Conversation was lively, the pace picked up and soon they were inside The Fortress disappearing from view at last.
=0=Port of Mars, Cybertron and the Empire, the center of the huge facility
They gathered in the command center to go over the plan. A smaller number of refugees were being accepted through the bridges because transportation around the colony was still a thing to get them to their homes. Getting the word, the unit commanders who were military and who managed a single massive space bridge and its cargo apiece walked into the bridge facility buildings nearby across the broad paved tarmac to start the process up again.
Inside, the bridges which were housed separately were already blasting away. The workers who greeted the newcomers and sorted them at the stations nearby were already there. He walked to them, Clarity of Detox City and began to organize the restart of immigration. The other three site commanders were doing the same and in seconds after consultation with the Network in the several gathering points for refugees far far away, the whole process would begin again.
=0=Ratchet
He walked through the wards of the Meadow Lands refugees, checking each against the data of the night before. All of those that he stopped to see were out of danger of more debilitation but the damage was done. It would take a lot of work, surgeries and care to get them back to an independent life.
He continued onward toward the emergency room to see what the night's haul was when an alarm he set way the long time back triggered. He paused to consider it, then read the data that was primed to be sent to him when it was. He grinned, then glanced at his officer of the deck. "Tee-Bee, I have to see about a situation. I'm turning this over to you. Its good work. Make sure everyone says I said so. Comm me if you need me," Ratchet said as he raced for the elevator to go. He was gone in seconds.
=0=Earth2
Rick Harris stood by the window staring out at the highly dense and lightly orange sky that struggled to send more than a weak filtered light back to him. The silt would reside by noon tomorrow it was said. It usually took about three days for it to do so when the winds finally died down.
He called his clients on Earth to tell them they were rescheduling. The climbing areas he favored, Level Four at The Peaks, a steep cliff face near Ranger Station 12 and Flat Rock at the base of Olympus Mons which was also a training facility for N.E.S.T. were closed for activities until infrastructure at both places were checked and brought up to specs.
They were disappointed as he himself would be but it couldn't be helped. He was stuck here for a couple of days at the least. He couldn't take the Metro to Unidad where there was a lot more diversion in the vastness of the habitat nor anywhere else for that matter. He wasn't 'essential personnel with a priority one task to attend to' so here he was.
It wouldn't be so bad if Marco was off work but he wasn't. He was working in the lab and would halt his experiments at lunch. After that, he would work until quitting time at 1630 hours or 4:30 pm. He considered that, then sighed. It wasn't easy being in love with weird work and hours nor was it when you were unclear what your parents and step parents would think of things if they knew.
He'd been married. He gave it a good try but his nature was what it was. He'd moved to Paris, considered his options, then opened an adventuring business that had taken off right away. When he moved to Mars to operate here the line for a chance to come and climb was off the hook.
Now he was stranded.
He grinned. / … Stranded. You're on Mars, Rick. You're in a good thing with Marco. Your sister is your best ally and she's doing great./ He grinned again. Coming here was the best thing the two of them ever did. What it would do for their parents or step parents was yet to be seen. At the moment he didn't care that much. The view was amazing, his life was getting better everyday and he made a living doing what he loved to do. All was right in his world.
=0=The Port
Ratchet careened in transforming in mid air. Landing with a graceful thud as all of them usually did, he hurried into the holding area for newcomers who needed this or that done about their identities, their condition or their families who might be here. He disappeared from view right away.
=0=The command table, The Fortress Ops Center
They laughed together at a joke, then Prime sat back comfortably. "The kids got to school. I was concerned about the level of traffic on the road but most of the work force is still on vacation."
Ironhide nodded. "We walked over and it was pretty calm. It'll be good to get things back together. Somehow, I feel like I haven't been home in ages."
"When that force reaches the turnoff and spots the station we're going to be busy again," Prowl said with a slight snarl. "It never ends. Most of the Decepticon empire is still intact and it might be that they drib and drab their way into disintegration this way."
Ironhide nodded. "I hope so and not. There goes every holiday and weekend for the rest of eternity if they do." He glanced at Prowl. "Are the arrays up and running that way?"
Prowl nodded. "We put the boosters on the relay and just released a massive array a parsec down the Silk Road from the main transit area. I wonder if we should warn aliens out there that a fleet is perhaps coming this way and that we plan to meet them in arms."
"I am considering that," Prime said. "When the maps out there are finally updated we need to meet and see what we should to do. Most of the known species out there are spread far enough apart that it should discourage the intruders from harming anyone until we can do something about them."
"We have trust and a great clientele out there. They tell us a lot of what space is like in that general area and even beyond. None of them enter the danger zone but they have a lot to say about space around it. We're the largest force in this entire area even before we got Cybertron back. Some of them are big and can fight but they prefer not to. They would rather trade, explore and build alliances. Its rather impressive how generally peaceful this area of the Orion Arm is," Prowl said.
"We need to keep it that way. We may have to garrison an area there and supply and support it by bridge," Optimus said.
They would chat and strategize for a while.
=0=Temple
They sat on overturned bins that they were using to cart sand to a pile at the corner nearby that Public Works would come by every joor or so to check, then move out. The two sad sacks who were piling it there were on a break.
They'd come at the crack of dawn as ordered, then worked hard at it for a number of joors before Lady Sela and Lord Chevron had walked out with donuts and a cold drink. Chatting a moment, they walked back in, Sela to the school and Chevron to administrative duties.
The two watched them walk away, then overturned their buckets to sit. They ate their snack, drained their cups, then stood up to begin again. They would. They'd dig and carry, dump, them come back to continue. They would do so all day long. At no point in their ordeal by Raptor would they speak a word to each other.
=0=Port of Mars
Ratchet saw them. They were immensely hard to miss. Walking to one that had been flagged to him by a worker bee as the 'elder' of the group, he paused by the small bandy-legged mech sitting on a bench. "Hi, I'm Ratchet."
The little mech stood up to stare upward into Ratchet's face. All around Ratchet a rather large group of mechs and a couple of little elderly femmes stared as well. All of them were identical. "I'm Macs. I remember your name."
"I work with your son. He's on his way with others to get you and help you settle. I set an alarm for when you might show up. Some of us have faith in family finding their way back," Ratchet said.
"My son? He's here?" Macs asked with surprise.
Ratchet grinned. "He is." He turned to glance at the door as the ones he wanted walked in and headed his way.
One of them slowed a moment as he saw who it was, then he ran forward to swoop the elder into his arms and spin. It was incredibly loud and happy a moment. It was even incredibly bright. But then, it wasn't often that the entire family of Wheeljack from both sides of his family tree showed up together in one place.
All of them bore his rare and decidedly attractive finials and all of them were blinking a blindingly bright light at the same time including the smallest children among them.
=0=Moments later
Wheeljack spun around toward Percy, then back to his father. "Uh, I want you to meet my bond, Perceptor of Crystal City."
"We know him," Macs said. He grinned. "I wondered when you two would stop fragging around and do this thing."
Wheeljack stared at his father, his ada, both sets of grandparents, his several uncles, their kids, his ten siblings and their bonds and kids, a number of odd pets held by the children, a lot of friends from the old neighborhood …
=0=Moments later-er
They walked through Customs and Immigration brand new repatriated citizens of Cybertron found in a colony way the frag out there from Sun and Jack's exploratory mapping, then brought here with gusto.
They had the gusto. They wanted to find a place to settle, set up their invention business and make slag again. Wheeljack who was nearly beside himself with happiness beamed at them.
Literally.
Then he remembered another important thing. "Uh, Ada, Atar … there's someone you need to meet."
Perceptor glanced at Wheeljack, then talked to him off line. :I will get him, 'Jack. Settle the family in:
Wheeljack nodded to Perceptor gratefully. He looked at the others. "Come on. Wait until you see your house. Percy has a thing to do. He'll come along in a moment."
"I'll help you, 'Jack," Ratchet said.
Wheeljack glanced at Ratchet with gratitude. "Thanks, Ratchet. Thanks for setting an alarm for them."
"It's what I do. Besides, who ever saw so many handsome mechs and femmes in one place at one time, ever?" Ratchet asked with his best smile.
Who, indeed?
=0=TBC 07-10-2021
slang: bandy-legged-bow legged. Has bent legs. Cowboys were called bandy legged from riding horses all their life. My Uncle Barney was a cowboy, a real working cowboy all his life and had bowed legs. :D:D
I LOVE YOU UNCLE BARNEY AND AUNT MARGARET AND BUTTON AND JERRY!