The Diego Diaries: Going On (dd8 585)
=0=Magnus
He sat in the meeting with a frown. It was called by the committee that had oversight of the space stations that were less commercial money making opportunities for the colony than welcoming post cards about their species to those who'd been harmed by the war and the marauding of Cybertronian criminals. It was Prime's attempt to undo what the Decepticons did to others over the long civil war that had nearly destroyed everyone and everything in its path.
It was working so fabulously well that there were long term plans to make more of them than the two that they had placed strategically in space. One was for security and the other a dazzling commercial enterprise. Because they were very popular places to come, trade and fuel for no cost, it was attracting more and more species with stranger and stranger practices.
A mech who was a manager at Space Station 1 on the Orion Arm was here to discuss a number of issues regarding different species coming there to trade in forbidden goods and items. They were having overtures from a species that was selling live beings, some of them apparently sentient, offering the station a chance to get into the business with them. It was bad enough for many reasons to the manager but new intel terrifying enough that the manager had come to speak about it himself was brought to their attention.
He informed them that they wanted to trade for any information about a planet that had a great ocean and a nice organic humanoid species evolving upon in a system with nine planets. Have you heard about it?
It was an intensely unsettling thing to hear. They were obviously speaking about Earth.
"What more can you tell us about the species that they trade?" Carston asked. He was a lawyer-investigator for the Justice Department who was interviewing the manager taking down his information as the committee listened. "To what degree of sentience do you believe their offerings to be and what is their own behavior in their situation? Are they obviously aware of their fate?"
"We only saw pictures of them," the manager, Leo of Saro 7 replied. "They showed us images of a species that they were offering for sale that looked a lot like humans but had longer fingers and bigger eyes. Most of the rest of them were the same. It was awful to look at."
"Why were they being offered? What did they tell you the purpose was for?" Carston asked with a slight dread.
"They actually told me that they make good pets and they even can be consumed for food," Leo said as he sat back in distress. "We've had weird aliens come to offer trade deals that were strange and obnoxious but none of them offer this kind of thing for food items or the like. We've gotten requests to sell live beings or species for whatever purpose is offered but we always decline. We don't do that. But saying that, I didn't put the ped down on this because we have to figure this out and I don't want them to disappear. These beings are sentient and self aware. He said they were. He had no qualms about this at all."
"Did they give any indication where they came from or how they were procured?" Magnus asked. "If this is something that's tied to a culture, if its part of their life and they raise them like the humans do their live food … there's difficulties in this whole business. Do we rescue sentient beings then? How much resistance do we face? Is this some kind of process that we can't interfere with? I don't know. Its all brand new to me. Its a big can of question marks."
"I put a tracer on their ship when they left. I'm having our tactical team trace them back to where they come from. If this is some kind of worldwide practice that we can't determine and/or maybe put stop to or its a bunch of criminals taking sentient people and doing this, maybe we can do something to end a practice like this. I just can't sit here and not do something. I'm ready to resign if we don't check this out," Leo said. "Its as awful a thing as I've ever experienced. And they were trying to find out about Earth. How many planets describe like that?"
It was silent, then Magnus leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table top. "I will talk to Prime."
Leo looked just slightly better.
=0=Lon and Bezel
They walked out of the clinic with a lighter step than when they entered. Walking together to the corner, they halted, then turned to each other. "You alright?"
Bezel nodded. "I am. Are you?"
Lon nodded. "Yeah."
The light changed so they continued. They would walk until shift talking together about their near miss and what they felt about it. It would be a strangely odd feeling that would linger in them as they did.
=0=Springer, Drift and Tell
He wavered but made it across the living room before grabbing the coffee table. Patting it, he glanced over his shoulder to smile brilliantly at Springer who was filming his son walking around rather nicely.
"BAI! ATO!"
Drift who was making lunch for the three of them glanced at Tell. "Did you notice that he almost said a word."
"I noticed. He's speeding along," Springer said as he held out his servos.
Tell smiled brilliantly, then began a wobbly turn around before a swift rush to Springer who grabbed him before he could crash into the chair.
"Look at you," Springer said as he picked the baby up, then rose to walk to the table with him. He set the baby in his high chair, then sat himself. "Its amazing how many times we eat at the table now. I sort of miss the old orns of sitting in front of the teevee eating out of a takeaway box."
"We still do takeaway but plates and spoons are nice," Drift said as he set lunch on the table. He grinned at Tell, then gave him his spoon and bowl.
Tell would eat his usual slam-bam meal, then get dunked in the little tub in the wash rack to clean his sorry little aft. It could be debated which held more of his food, his little tanks or his face. Either way, his old dads were highly entertained.
=0=RTR Tools
The door opened as a big mech and two more slender ones entered. They looked around as Tie walked out to see what they would need.
Tie watched them as a slight unease filled him. His nearly infallible 'gangster-criminal' meter went off inside his helm as they walked around the displays of beautiful tools and weapons, checking them out as they did. He could feel the unease of the weapons themselves as they were handled. It was then that he was glad that the three hadn't gone near the swords. Those worthies wouldn't allow handling by anyone without a good clean aura. "Can I help you?"
The three mechs glanced at him, then walked to the counter. The biggest one who had cold hard optics and a calm manner nodded his helm in respect. "You are Tie Down, the Master who makes these things?" he asked as he glanced around.
"I make them with my bond, yes," Tie replied.
"I've dreamed all my life to own a sword from your shop, Maestro," the mech said. "I would like to commission one for me as an heirloom some orn to my son."
"Are you Circle or Knight? It helps us to make the sword holy if we know something about the one who wishes one. What you can tell us about yourself will allow us to make one that is special and linked by spark with you," Tie said.
Behind him, Ravel could be seen hand polishing the glistening blade of a sword with a blue hilt. It was incredibly beautiful having just gone through the first round of etching and prayers that would make it what it would become. There were three more rounds ahead before it was finished and ready for someone to join up with.
"You still make them by hand the old way," the mech said. "My family made weapons just like this long ago."
Tie considered that, himself fully aware of all the master metallurgists that were considered so by those who knew, mechs and femmes of war. There were some who were masters but none of them reached the exalted status of Tie and Ravel. That was a universal truth. "Who might that be? Perhaps we knew each other once upon a time."
The mech considered that. "Do you remember Quick Silver?"
Tie did. He nodded. "Paladin of Quick Silver based in Capital City. I remember he made beautiful daggers and jewelry."
The mech nodded. "They did. I do recall that they wanted you to teach them some of your steps for weapons especially swords but you refused."
Tie remembered a bitter argument long ago. "We can't teach our process. It can't be learned by anyone."
"How convenient," one of the other two mechs with this one replied.
"You don't understand," Tie said.
"Then explain it," the second mech said with an edge to his tone.
The mood shifted to something very dark.
"Our process is vetted by Solus Prime. Unless you have Her assistance then you won't prevail with what we do. We also keep the process for our son," Tie said. "Is there anything else I can do for you? I will put your name on the waiting list. I must tell you that its long and we go down the list in order."
"You can't make a gesture for an old friend?" the first mech said.
"If I did then everyone would be upset. We give priority to Knights," Tie said as he moved closer to the panic button under the counter.
That was when Ravel walked out to help him.
=0=Ratchet
He walked across the street carrying a box for his Appa and Amma. Corr and Chan had gone to do a bit of 'Christmas Surprise shopping for our babies, Ratchet' and he had invited himself along. They were heading for the shop to show the cute little things they picked up and to coordinate their purchases with a master list that the family's elders had made during one of their waiting times between classes.
They reached the shop and as Corr pulled the door open Ratchet and Chan entered. Corr entered, then the door closed behind them with the sound of the jingle bells Ravel had hung on the door handle tinkling prettily.
Ratchet walked forward slowing as he did from the bad energy in the room. He turned to Corr and Chan behind him. "Why don't you go and have a seat in the lounge, Amma, Appa. I'll bring the box in and help Ada and Atar with the customers."
"Let me have the box, Ratchet," Chan said sweetly.
The two walked around the counter carrying it past their tense children and into the lounge in the back.
Ratchet watched them disappear from view, then walked around the counter to stand by his atar. "What's the drill here? How can I help you?" he asked as he measured the mechs for threat level. It felt high.
"We were just sharing old times. I ordered a sword. Apparently there's going to be a wait for it of some duration," the first big mech said. His optics were cold and he was mean in his overall affect. The others were not much better.
"Well, this is RTR Tools. The list is long and the wait is worth it. Also, the things we make here either agree to go with you or they don't. If they don't there's nothing you can do about it," Ratchet said. He felt odd, old energy from these mechs. "Did you get their order, Atar?"
Tie who was feeling the burn nodded. "I did, son."
"Okay," Ratchet said. "Why don't you go back to work and I'll help them."
"I can-" Tie began before Ratchet gently cut him off.
"I got this," Ratchet said gently to his father.
Tie waffled, then stepped back to the doorway where he watched with unease.
Ratchet saw him, then deliberately moved to block these mechs view of his father. "Is there anything else we can do for you?"
"Not at the moment, no," the first mech said.
"So we'll call you, Mister…?" Ratchet asked.
"Pyrite," the mech said. "Pyrite of Capital City."
Ratchet stared at him, then nodded.
They stared at each other silently a moment, then the three mechs walked slowly to the door to leave. It closed behind them.
"Frag," Ratchet said as he glanced at the doorway. His fathers and his little grand genitors were standing there staring with fear and anxiety at Ratchet.
=0=TBC 12-09-2022
Don't have two shots in the same arm. Spread them out. Trust me. :D:D:D