The Diego Diaries: Onward (dd7 56)

=0=Outside

"I have to meet with the Sports League Committee at the arena over a number of projects and ideas, Prowl. Perhaps we can meet up later this morning," Optimus said as the group began to disperse.

"How about lunchtime at The Pit Stop?" Prowl asked as he gathered Possibility and Solus from Prime. He opened his hatch and slid them inside with Sojourner and Miracle. The little mechs were standing around their peds looking upward as the adults sorted out their orn.

"Sounds good to me. See you at 1200 joors there," Optimus said as he stepped away toward the Arena District down the way.

"I'm going with Prime. He might need a face punched and he can't do it for a while. Holiness and all," Ironhide said with a smirk. He walked away as well.

Sun, 'Jack, Hardie, Raptor and Hard Drive watched them go, then grinned almost at once. "Let's go with," Sun said. "I think it might be fun to hear about the league expansion on Cybertron." The group followed after Prime and Ironhide.

Everyone watched, then turned toward Ratchet. He had Halo and Hero while the others had the rest of the children and animals. The big kids were standing between Alor and Prowl with grins. "What?"

Laughter greeted that as Prowl watched Prime and Company go. "Are we on the town tomorrow night or what?"

"Your call, Granny," Ratchet said with a grin. "I was born ready myself."

Prowl rolled his optics as the group broke up, each bit going to their own project, place or idea. Around them, the colony swirled onward.

=0=Arena District, League Headquarters at Autobot City Public Sporting Arena

They entered the office and greeted everyone, taking seats around the big conference table where the officials met and things were diced out. Password, President of the Martian Adult Football League along with Marble, the President of the Cybertronian Adult Football League sat side by side to discuss matters of mutual import. The league presidents for basketball, racing and rugby plus the design teams for soccer and pole vaulting were also present.

"Thank you for coming, everyone," Password said as Chief Administrator for the Martian-Cybertronian Sports Association, the governing body of all sports played professionally among their people. "We're very happy to have you. We have to discuss the expansion of the leagues, both football and basketball on Cybertron as well as here, the addition of another sporting arena in one of the Crater Districts which will also be able to host a professional lobbing league as well as the progress on our newer sports considerations, pole vaulting and Cube.

"But first, the important things," Password said as the group laughed. "You were saying … you were considering playing football next season ..."

Prime grinned. "Yes. I am."

=0=Jailhouse

Pico and Carbide sat together bored out of their processors. They were having a very hard time being around Rockwell who was sitting at the table eating something. He was as hardcore now as before. Somehow, it didn't bother them before. It did now. It grated and was irritating.

They were having a conversation off line.

:I hate this place: Pico said to Carbide.

Carbide nodded. :I do as well: He set his cup down. :I want out of here:

It was silent a moment as both mused on things, then Pico stood up to walk to the bars. He stared at the open door knowing after being told that there were sensors outside they could use to call for guards. If they weren't too busy at the time they would come. "Hello! Guards! I need to talk to General Hard Drive!"

Rockwell glanced at Pico with surprise. "Why?" he asked as he glanced up from his pie.

"It doesn't concern you," Pico said as he stared at the door. He could hear faint ped falls coming his way.

"The frag it doesn't? What are you going to do?" Rockwell said as he turned around in his chair to watch a guard enter, then walk to where Pico stood.

"What do you want?" the guard, Sentry, a young Home Guardsman who was working in corrections as a career asked.

"I would like to speak to General Hard Drive," Pico said.

"It's weekend. He could be anywhere or even Cybertron. I can't guarantee that I can get him," Sentry said.

"Try. I need to talk to him," Pico said. "Tell him Pico would like to talk to him."

Carbide leaned forward in his chair. "Tell him Carbide does, too."

The guard stared at them, then nodded curtly and walked out. It was silent again.

Then it wasn't.

=0=Far away

They flew in defensive formation, a large contingent of Seekers crossing the empire the long way around. The Network had been abuzz with information about the Great Elder, Starscream and the colony of Mars. Nothing about the overtaking of Cybertron had made it this far out in the heavily controlled turf of the Decepticons. The 'Cons had blocked it by this point, most of it. Some information had made it, thus all Seekers all over the empire were defecting.

For them, it was also a cat and mouse situation. The regular troops were supposed to kill them on sight and there was danger that made the trip long and tiring. Having to detour and to hide from time to time had slowed them down. Some troops didn't hunt them but joined in their flight heading away to something better than decimations, hunger, frustrated rage and homesickness.

There were ships with them, big ships and support. They were making their way toward the Bootes Constellation and its expanses of open empty space. It would be a long detour but the Network told them that it was the best way to go. It also told them when to send a signal to Prime that they were coming.

It wouldn't be for a long while yet.

Flying in formations that rotated as they proceeded, they heard the echoes of ships that were aware of them. Whether they were hostiles or not was unknown. It was, however, abundantly clear that if they were caught, everyone in the group would die.

It rather concentrated the mind.

They flew onward into the darkness heading for the longed for possibility of peace and safety. It would take a while to get even close.

=0=Elsewhere

They walked to the metro station to go to their genitor's home. Anders and Burris were hosting lunch so that they could catch up as a family. Lon and Bezel would be there as well. It had been a while since they could do so. They walked down, caught a train, rode it to their 'home town', then walked out and onward to Bezel's genitor's house.

Reaching there at last, they entered, then hugged Anders and Burris. Both of them were very happy and making their way forward from the debacles of the past. On any other world Burris would be in prison for life or terminated. But because it was this one ruled by Optimus Prime, they were gathering in his apartment to have lunch, enjoying a second chance that he, Burris would never have granted anyone else.

Only on a world ruled by this Prime could such mercy and innovation exist.

It had sunk in through the hardships of their trudge through the disaster that was Cybertron with the Praxian Elites that such a conclusion could flicker to life and be sustained by the cognitive dissonance of what the two thought was real and what was actual realness all around them.

There were no arguments to make when you had to gather the body parts of babies and children who died huddling in a bombed out basement with their grand genitors. Nothing could replace the howling in your processor when you had to find tiny legs and arms and see the dead empty optics of their skulls laying in a corner where they had landed when they were bombed.

Walking through the camps to see the gratitude and to watch the big mechs who held their orns in their servos jump to help with every request and suggestion for the comfort of total strangers was something else altogether. Seeing elders hug Hard Drive and his family, watching them get this and that little thing together to give to children, visiting all manner of their people in hospitals, schools and tents, their first real home in their lives had been torturous. But what had turned the corner was when they finally thought about how hard it was for the victims to live in such conditions.

The camps were miracles that stretched into infinity it seemed, orderly, neat and sometimes filled with spontaneous violence that erupted without warning. He, Cargo had been punched on numerous occasions. Sneak attacks by deranged or enraged individuals had been a hazard of the job and even left a cut or two in Keystock.

They'd done their jobs silently, working clerical when the moment called for it and trudging all over the world with whoever called for them to come. They didn't have to carry the backpacks now but they were quiet and obedient anyway.

Right now, they were all eating a meal together in celebration of Festival and the fact that their family was finding their way along now. Their father was proud of his job, their ada was proud of his and Keystock and Cargo were able to be in the same room without fisticuffs with Bezel.

Win-win.

=0=Jail

Sentry came running in when the shouting began and halted with two other Watchmen as they saw someone crash against the cell bars. A sizzle greeted that along with a loud cry. Pico was staring over his shoulder assembly at his back. The force field had burned when Rockwell jumped him and threw him into the bars.

"Oh, slag," Sentry said as he glanced at the two jailers with him. "What now?"

"Stand back, infant, and watch. We're going in there to settle this one way or the other." With that, two of the three jailers slammed their fists together, the bars came down and they waded into the fray. As they did, Pico flew out of the cell block to hit another and fall to the floor. It would be described at the next staff meeting to Drift and Springer as a very picturesque attempt at flight.

=0=TBC 8-8-19 It'll be longer tomorrow. :D 8-8-19

NOTE: Pole vaulting is a recognized and popular sport among Cybertronians. :D:D:D Its canon.

ESL:

Cognitive dissonance: the difference between what you believe to be real and what actually is. Or as its known around my house: my checking account. ;)