The Diego Diaries: Cloudy (dd7 396)
=0=RTR Tools
"Wow," he whispered as he took it into his servo.
His father grinned at him. "That's the kind of sword that I have hopes and dreams for you some fine orn, infant. That sword is alive."
He glanced at his father, then the sword. It gleamed in his servo as he held it in the lighting that had been designed to showcase their beauty to the fullest effect. It felt light though it was heavy and the detailing was mesmerizing.
Ratchet grinned. "The poem is from the Chronicles of Primus, a prayer to His father, The One. The scarlet is a favorite color of the Pantheon, some of them use it for accents and finial embellishments. The sword is handmade with the proper prayers and respect spoken during construction. That's one of the many reasons they're so special. The Pantheon favors this House and the makers here. Our sword formulas are secrets and Solus favors them."
"Solus Prime?" the kid asked.
Ratchet nodded. "My genitors are blessed by Her. She's our patron here at RTR Tools." He pointed to the doors, one that let people in and the one leading to the workroom. "Those little hammers over the doors are homage to the Maker."
The kid stared at them, then moved the sword which seemed to leave a trail of light as he turned it this way and that. "I love this. Maybe some orn?" he asked his father hopefully.
Ratchet and his atar were having a conversation off line as Tie finished the transaction for the two mechs at the counter. They came to agreement. "What does the sword tell you?"
He glanced at Ratchet. "What do you mean?"
"Does it feel like it was made for you? Is it light in heft and balanced in your servo? Does it feel like a friend you've had all your life?" Ratchet asked.
The kid stared at the sword. "Yes. It does. Its really light. I thought it'd be heavier. The hilt really fits."
"That's because its chosen you," Ratchet said.
The kid startled, then glanced at Ratchet with enormous surprise. "The sword?"
Ratchet nodded. "They choose their partners. If you tried to walk out with that sword and it hadn't chosen you, it would sting you so hard your servo would ache for a decaorn."
He stared at it, then turned toward Ratchet. "What does it mean then? That it chose me? Is it … I mean … does it want to go with me?"
Ratchet chuckled, then nodded. "'Fraid so," he said.
The kid's father stared at the sword, then Ratchet. "He's pretty young."
"Then you have to keep it for him. When he's initiated, then he can learn to use it right. He always has to be honorable about it. He always has to treat it right. When he does, it'll be his partner and save him when he needs it."
The kid stared at his father with hopeful optics.
His father stared back, then looked at Ratchet. He bowed. "Thank you. It would be the most profound honor."
The kid turned to Ratchet, then bowed. "This would be something I'll never forget. To have a sword from RTR Tools is a dream. Thank you." He grew solemn a moment. "I mean, you are letting me have it?"
"Sure," Ratchet said. He grinned, then reached into the display to take a scarlet scabbard that was as beautiful as the filigreed sword blade. There were gold and silver inlays to the scabbard that told the story of Duality, the darkness and the light. Unicron and Primus. Ratchet took the sword and slipped it into the scabbard expertly. Then he handed it to the kid.
He took it, then bowed. "I will always bear it with honor," he said formally. He looked at it, then his father. "Recognize a knight?" he asked.
"Maybe. When you're inducted. For now, it recognizes you as a partner. The Knight part will come soon enough," the mech said with a grin. He glanced at the mech who'd come for a sword. "You feel anything from any of them?"
They turned to stare at the rack of swords, all of them gleaming in the lights. They were spectacular and of different sizes and lengths. All of them were brilliantly shiny, had intricate carvings on the blade and hung in gravity displays that turned them to slowly allow all their beauty to be seen.
Ratchet who was tuned into the swords since he'd been making them for vorns back in the orn reached for a big one with a deeply dark blue hilt. He held it out to the mech who look it reverently.
He weighed it in his servo expertly, then stepped back to move with it for a moment. Then he paused as if listening. Turning to Ratchet, he nodded. "I would be honored to bear this one."
"Then it will be so," Ratchet said.
The mech held the sword up before his face. "Recognize a Knight," he said as a flash of light zipped up the full length of the sword and enveloped his servo. The deal was made between partners. He turned to Ratchet again. Bowing, he formally sealed the deal. "We are one."
"Here's the scabbard," Ratchet said handing a midnight blue scabbard with silver inlays to the mech.
He slipped it in, then grinned. "At no time ever in my life did I ever expect to have a sword of this magnitude. You have to go to the Pantheon to get something of its nature."
Ratchet grinned. "They're almost as much fun to make."
"You're artists, Ratchet. Both of us," he said nodding to the kid who was clutching his sword against his chest, "are grateful and promise to use them with honor."
"Then that's all we can ask for," Ratchet said.
They chatted a moment, then walked out happily. Everyone of the group with them would be back to see if there was a sword for them. There would be.
Ratchet walked into the work room. "Two sales, no cash. Slim pickings tonight for dinner." He smiled. "Does that bring back memories?"
"Yes and don't do that again. I don't want to remember that stuff. Which swords?" Ravel asked with a grin.
"The scarlet and the blue hilts. A kid has his sword early," Ratchet said.
"Well, he will use it right. I have faith in younglings these orns, Sonny. The Knights and Circle raise good kids," Ravel said as he checked the smelter for his melted gold.
Ratchet grinned. "Is that where you failed with me?"
"NO ONE FAILED WITH YOU! YOU'RE PERFECT!" Appa Ratchet said from his chair.
Ratchet laughed. "I want that in writing."
=0=Elsewhere far away
He stepped out of his state vehicle to climb the steps to the Temple. Everywhere he went his people saluted him, waving and smiling at the sight of him. They touched him for blessings and some would stop to talk. He always did because he loved his people. He loved them for their goodness and spirit. Everything he did he did for them.
He walked into the Temple, crossed the great floor to the steps and down he went to the Well of Allsparks. He was uneasy about the intruder who had the ability to jump dimensionally and therefore had vanished completely. Anything with that ability could come back and his duty to his people was paramount. Thus, he was here to seek advice and assistance from the Pantheon. Given that he himself was a part of Them, it was just another orn in his life to come here for this problem.
The Temple had been told he needed to meditate at the Well so that area was cleared of everyone. It was just him, the Well and the Allspark. That relic turned slowly over the Well, as inscrutable as ever even though Optimus Prime knew It was the home base of The One when He came here. Part of The One was always with the Allspark given that, like Him, the rest of the Pantheon, the relics and some places on the planet were multiversal singularities. They could exist in all places at all times all of the time, forever.
He settled his processor, then began to chant the call to his siblings that he always used when he wanted to talk with Them over a problem. It didn't take time for the mist to rise and the figure of the God-King Optimus Prime aka Thirteen to disappear into the Matrix.
=0=Cybertron
He sat in the meeting with glazed optics. They were discussing the minute details of everything and everywhere. It had to be done and they were paying attention here, all of the district commanders, their commanding officer, Hard Drive and the related officers with them. Even Soundwave was paying attention.
Ironhide, however, was ready to collapse into a big pile of snoring. This was ten times worse than listening to Caro detail shorted futures or some other kind of slag on the money management side of the empire's operation. He had played all his games, read a few emails, sent a few emails, poked his servo with a small device he used to jack cars so he wouldn't slide off onto the floor, reviewed his tiny file of videos detailing facing with Ratchet, shut them down to control his rising 'needs', killed a sigh, watched a short movie about a duck that their kids liked, found out he really liked ducks, checked out the latest Norbert video on YouTube … he really liked that little dog with the pink tongue that always stuck out … where was he? Oh yeah. Facing videos …
"And now I think we need Ironhide to summarize the report for us and give us his opinion about the widgets," Hard Drive said as he glanced at his beloved and most cherished great grandson.
Ironhide started, then glanced at his beloved and most cherished great grandpa. "Uh," he began, then looked at the plates. "You're out of donuts. I'll get more," he said as he rose and nearly ran for the door. He was out of it in seconds.
Huge laughter greeted that as everyone relaxed in their chairs.
"It's fun having him back in his sub adult orns," Raptor said. "He was a hellion but a good mech."
"I can imagine," Hound said with a chuckle.
"I have the videos," Hard Drive said with a grin. "Did I ever tell you that he and a hoodlum friend of his hijacked my vintage car and nearly made it to the next city before the police grabbed them?"
He hadn't but he would over donuts when The Kid got back.
=0=The Ops Center, The Citadel, Mars about the same time
He was going over the rules of procedure with Prowl when the room faded and he wasn't there. He was standing in a brightly lit room, one so bright that everything looked deeply bleached white, walls and all. He glanced around with surprise but saw no one. He was alone in a huge overly lit room in a place he'd never seen before.
The urge to panic rose, then was quashed immediately. Growing up in basically a ghetto surrounded by negative forces that worked to 'keep you in your place', he'd learned to control his emotions so he could stay upright and functioning. Given that he'd become the face of revolution of late on Cybertron at this, the start of the long winter of Cybertron's travails in civil war, being alert and rational often meant the difference between arrest, a beating or death. "Hello," he said. The room echoed slightly. He began to walk toward a wall that as he did didn't seem to get any closer. "Hello," he said again.
Then he saw someone. He saw someone he never expected to see, someone whose very presence filled him with shock and dread given his time here. He stopped in his tracks as he watched the figure come close.
That figure halted, seemingly as surprised to see Orion as Orion was to see him. He came closer, than halted. "Prime … what is happening? Where is this place?"
Orion stared at him in shock a moment, then stepped slightly back. "Megatron," he said.
=0=TBC 10-04-2020 10-24-2020
There's a tiny comfort dog on youtube that is the cutest thing that ever lived. He had 40 or 50 second videos of his cuteness and I guarantee there isn't anyone with a problem who won't feel better watching him. He has cute little fuzzy gray ears, a tiny body and button eyes. His little pink tongue sticks out because he either lost some teeth on that side or he's got the defect that does that. One out of every four chihuahuas has that crazy tongue thing but on Norbert it works. LOL! Norbert for President. :D:D:D Go. You won't regret it.