The Diego Diaries: Cloudy With A Chance of Pow Pow (dd7 383)
=0=Gathering at the Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars, The Primal Colony of Cybertron and The Empire
They sat down in the big conference room, grim faced adults, two youngling mechs with pensive expressions and Prowl. He had the information known and gathered on a data pad as they waited for Paragon to bring the updates from Sensors and Tactical. It was quiet as they settled.
Orion felt out of place, like he was a spectator in someone else's life. He would, they said, be running the show here ordinarily and this stranger appeared to be someone from out of his past. It was weird hearing that without a memory to back it up. He glanced at Ironhide who looked grim but had a nervous tint to his aura. Ironhide was as out of his depth as he felt, though Ironhide was a soldier and at least had a clue of structure and possible action plans that might come up. This was all new to him.
Paragon entered, closed the door, then sat at the table. "I have a possible location for him in the Bootes. He's some distance from the base that Polity had. I don't believe, however, that it'll take a lot of work to find Polity out. What Rotor does at that point is anyone's guess."
Prowl glanced at Orion. "Polity was an intruder with godhood pretensions. We left him in a pile of rubble not so long ago He had a good sized fleet and he operates out of a base in the Bootes Constellation, a place pretty barren of planetary activity. He's close enough here to make easy jumps if his bridge tech were better but far enough away, about 120,000 light years to make it hard with what he has. If he did, we would detect him before he had a chance to get very far.
"There are three groups here that bear watching. Polity who's reduced in threat at the moment and two others that sustained the same spanking from us. One is a combiner named Razorclaw."
"Combiner?" Orion asked.
"He's part of a demented program where up to five or so mechs are engineered to combine into one big one, one big stupid one usually. The problem with him is that he's the brains of the most perfect one ever created. All combiners are flawed, all but him and his brothers. They form a combiner called Predaking," Raptor said. "We have all of his brothers in custody so that's off the table, though I imagine he's not happy about it."
"The other problem is a mech called Ominous. We attacked both their bases after they refused a request to scan them for their elements. We didn't expect them to like it and they didn't," Blackjack said.
"You then attacked them?" Ironhide asked.
Blackjack nodded. "We did, the slaggers. They've been quiet or so I believe," he said glancing at Prowl who nodded.
"Are they independent of each other?" Orion asked.
Prowl nodded. "Thus far. We'd have to obliterate them if they weren't."
"And you haven't because?" Ironhide asked.
"They're at strategic points on the trails that refugee migrations travel. If they're attacked and scatter then all bets are off," Ratchet said. "We can't risk our people."
Paragon nodded. "We traced the signal back through the various arrays to a point in the Bootes that's still a good distance from Polity. He's traveling very swiftly which makes it hard to pinpoint. I'm assuming that he heard the scuttlebutt out there and decided to pay a call."
Prowl reached over to the computers nearby and pulled out a rolled up data pad. He stood, then unfurled it out onto the table where it nearly covered the surface. It flashed into life as Prowl tapped until the right schemata came up. "Where, Parry?"
Paragon stood, worked a moment, then a light in the middle of a big empty of space appeared. It was moving fast in the direction of Polity's base. "There."
"Do you think he knows Polity is there?" Blackjack mused.
"Do WE know Polity is there?" Raptor asked Prowl.
Prowl glanced at Jazz, then nodded.
Jazz rose with Mirage to walk to a computer nearby. He jacked in, then the two of them began to search through the sensor data for information.
Prowl sat back with a frown. "We need to know more about him but we don't need to make this easy. We can't attract him. He'll find us, likely, but we can't make it easy."
"Maybe we can extend our reach out that way. Fort Recluse is the closest base. Maybe we can beef it up just in case," Hard Drive said.
Prowl nodded. "I think so. We'll send reinforcements now. Redirect Teletraan to go through the data from that area as a top priority, Paragon."
Paragon nodded. "I think this is going to be a waiting game now, Prowl. Given that we aren't clear about who Rotor is, we can only wait to see what happens with him. I'm sure he's going to be coming here."
Jazz glanced at Prowl. "We still get signals. They're there. Probably rebuilding everything from scrap."
Prowl nodded. "Three opponents and possible targets for overtaking."
"Then we better get a plan in order to take out a phase sixer. Rotor is a bad mech with mental problems. I don't know if he has anyone with him. These slaggers don't usually run in packs. 'There can only be one' if you didn't know," Blackjack said.
"What do you remember, if at all, Ratchet?" Prowl asked.
Ratchet sat a moment accessing some of the oldest stuff that he carried in his files, then glanced at Prowl. "I don't have much. Most of it I keep on indexes. I do remember him being a mech with mental problems. He's a violent mech but a quiet hunter. He sees slights that aren't there." Ratchet paused to read though a list. "Give me a moment to unpack some notes. I was told about him at Carilon. Everyone was afraid of him there so I kept records just in case."
It was tense in the room as they waited.
Raptor glanced at Ironhide. :You alright, infant?:
Ironhide glanced at his grandpa. :Will this be a fight?: he asked.
:When aren't they, infant?: Raptor replied. :You'll do what we say in any course and you might not come along if its a mission. You're too green. Understand?:
Ironhide nodded with a frown. :I will:
=0=In space far away
He flew through the endless night of the relative emptiness of an area known locally as the Bootes Constellation. It was a place without attraction or much content so he continued onward heading toward what was appearing to be oddly regular ambient noise far away. The underlying impression it was creating was that of an unnatural or artificially generated source. Stars and all bodies in space give out ambient noise. One can listen to a star or planet 'speak' or nearly any other body or element that space could offer. They tended to be irregular and occupied certain types of niches on the spectrum.
This didn't. It was regular and registered on the audio scale like ships or radio traffic. It was caused by something that wasn't created naturally by the universe. Anyone who traveled learned the difference right away. Knowing it could mean the difference between life and death. Xylon knew it. He flew toward it fueled by an internal reactor that would supply all the energy that he would ever require. If he never ate again it wouldn't matter. Phase Six mechanisms, the Warrior Elites of Megatron's personal security were designed to pursue their master's wishes until the end of time.
It was silent as he flew in his alternate configuration, a sleek ship with incredible armor and defenses. He ignored everything else as he homed in on the signal, Polity's base just inside the defended domain of Prime.
=0=A joor later
Most of the others had returned to Cybertron but for Ratchet, Prowl, Orion and Ironhide. They were watching Halo run up and down the table with her 'hair' flying as she laughed. She was going to each to hug and 'kip' them, then run to the next one. It was a welcomed relief.
"What do you think he will do, Prowl? I would think given the area he is in that Polity would be his target. If these mechanisms are as much as you assert, going to a base with many will not deter him. It might even bring the troops around toward Rotor in replacement of Polity," Orion mused.
"That's the scary part. If he can con Polity's group to side with him, he becomes a phase sixer with an army," Prowl replied.
"Then we must face him before he gets there," Orion said. "Would that not be easier?"
Prowl considered that. "It might. It's a possibility." He glanced at Prime. "You won't be coming on that mission. You can't be exposed to harm. You're the only one on this planet that, and I say this grudgingly considering everything, can't be replaced" he said as he glanced at Halo. That's how important you are to the way things have become."
It was heavy in the room as they considered that.
"Prowl is right. You're the tent pole for this circus. No one can or would stand up to Megatron the way you do and have. No one would be able to keep things together the way you do. No one is expendable and we all agree to that," Ratchet said. "But some have that much more added value to the overall well being of everyone. That mech is you."
Devcon came into the room, then halted by the table. "We have data that Rotor is heading for Polity. What do you want to do?"
Prowl stared at the map which hadn't updated yet. "I need to warn them." He turned to a console and called for a channel to Polity. Glancing at Orion and the others, Prowl said, "I will tell him. No one make a sound." He glanced at Orion. "Don't say anything. I don't want them to see you and figure out that something might be wrong. He's mad enough to do something about it, something stupid."
Orion nodded as Prowl walked to a console and sat in the chair there. The camera view would be of him alone. He waited, then a figure appeared on the screen to him, an elegant figure who had a black aura, one filled with fury. It was silent, then Prowl began. "Polity, I am Prowl, second-in-command for the Prime of Cybertron."
"And?" Polity asked coldly. Behind him a functioning operational center spun onward. Apparently, they were making progress getting back on their peds.
"And … I'm calling you to report a threat. A mech named Xylon is heading your way. It would be in your very best interest to tell us all you know about him."
"And why would I know him?" Polity asked as he sat back in his chair casually.
"Xylon is a name the mech uses. His real name is Rotor, last known location the industrial planet, Carilon. Does that help?" Prowl asked equally as coldly.
"Can't say it does," Polity replied.
"Well, how about this then?" Prowl said. "He's got mental problems, he was a killer and enforcer as a civilian and a member of Megatron's elite bodyguard. That makes him in conclusion a Phase Six mechanism."
It was silent a moment as Polity digested that bit of news. "Why are you telling me this?"
"As I've said, he's heading your way. A phase six mechanism is coming toward you," Prowl replied.
"I suppose you hope he obliterates us," Polity said.
Prowl shrugged. "One way or another, he's going to fuck you up."
Polity stared at Prowl. "I'll take that for the meaning you seem to intend. I don't intend to be 'fucked up'."
"Lots of mechs have said that about phase sixers. All of those mechs are dead," Prowl said.
"Are you offering to assist?" Polity asked.
"Are you prepared to surrender?" Prowl asked.
Polity offered a humorless smile. "Not on your life."
Prowl returned a very tight grin. "Its not my life we're discussing here, slagger."
Orion watched Prowl negotiate with a mech that reminded him too much of too many supervisors and the leadership of Cybertron. Sometimes things didn't change no matter where you were.
Or when.
=0=TBC 9-18-2020 10-24-2020
There's a band on youtube called the Hu band. They're a heavy metal band from Mongolia and they have a video for a song called Wolf Totem.
O.
M.
G.
They sing in their language with their instruments in a style called Mongolian throat singing. I'm tingling after watching it. Miko and Bulkhead would have it on their play list. I love this planet. Diversity is truly king.
ESL:
scuttlebutt: an old fashioned term for news or gossip that was popular during World War II. It was often used by soldier when asking about the news or goings-on.
If you go onto youtube and google planetary or star sounds, you can listen to them 'talk'.
:D