The Diego Diaries: Chaos 36 (dd3 46)
=0=On the sidewalk of the boulevard in a city on a planet in rebirth
"So, things are pretty much organized in the armory then?"
"Yeah. We had a delivery problem. Munitions were going to bakeries and cookies to the depots. Not that the mechs complained but the grocery outlets and cafes weren't feeling the love," Ironhide said with a grin.
Ratchet snorted. "I can only imagine," he said as he watched his elders heading toward them on their way to the store. Waving, he caught their attention. They crossed the street against traffic and walked to the cafe.
"Ratchet, Ironhide! How nice to see you," Ravel said beaming at them happily. "We were going to the store. They're letting us back in now. The stores on the other side of us absorbed the worst of the blast, poor things. We weren't so badly harmed that we can't go in and put things to rights."
"Sit. Have a snack and a sparkling," Ratchet said pulling a chair over.
"Oh yes," Ravel said sitting. Ironhide slid Hero toward her little grandada. Ravel enveloped the infant in his arms, kissing her gently. "Ah, my little girl," he said softly. "What a lovely baby you are."
Hero looked at Ravel, her little optics watching the smiling face above her. Tie kissed his digit and touched her face gently. "What a lovely little girl you are."
"I don't want you to overdo," Ratchet said shooting severe optics at his genitors. "You're still getting over the slagging of the explosion."
"I feel wonderful," Tie Down said with a grin. The waiter came and all ordered.
As they did Sideswipe came rolling up. Pausing, he looked at the four. "Hi."
"Hi. You came fast," Ratchet said pulling another chair up.
He sat and nodded. "You called. I was near."
"I did. I want you to help your grandgenitors put the store back together. They aren't to lift anything heavier or bigger than a wrench," Ratchet said.
"Sure," Sideswipe said.
"Where is your brother?" Ratchet asked.
"He's going to Charon. He's delivering a component of some kind to the base." Sideswipe glanced at the little segway and the IntraCom intern filming. "You're going to be on teevee."
"I already have been. You forget I'm the first and greatest star in this family," Ratchet said with a smirk.
"Senate hearings don't count," Sideswipe said leaning back in his chair as drinks and finger food arrived. "By the way, you might as well speak English. They're going to translate whatever language we use in the footage they make into episodes."
"Lovely," Ironhide said with a smirk. "I suppose I better not say 'frag' and 'slag' too much."
"I would. I am," Sideswipe said with a snicker. "Often. Every other word."
They laughed, They dined. When it was over, Sideswipe would go with his grandgenitors to help them. He would find it intensely enjoyable. They would find him a 'lovely young mech, you are'. All would be good.
-0-Nearing Charon
They had stood at the windows filming and watching as the planets came and went. All around them were wonders. The conversation with Silverbolt had been fantastic and would prove to be great footage. The big yellow front-liner was another subject all together. He was quiet, relatively. His gaze was almost impossible to meet without feeling that a throw down was being established.
Mellar who himself was no weak sister found Sunstreaker a challenge. However, he was a man without a lot of internal qualms so he rolled toward the big mech aware of the laser-like focus upon him as he did. "Sunstreaker, have you been stationed out here?"
"I was with the first group." He leaned back against the bulkhead, his format relaxing.
Relatively.
"Tell me about the Wreckers. I hear they get the tours out here. I hear that only the toughest and best warriors are put out here on duty," he said.
Sunstreaker nodded. "That's true. The Wreckers are a group of warriors that were the last defense shock troops, the go-to-when-all-else-fails mechs. We get the jobs that can't be done. The ones that shouldn't be done. The suicide missions."
"Springer is the Wrecker chief, right?" Mellar asked.
Sunstreaker nodded. "He's the one. There was one before, a legend. But he's dead. You don't last long in the Wreckers. We go through a lot of mechs."
"You lasted. Sideswipe, too," Mellar countered.
Sunstreaker looked at him for a long time, enough for the man to shift uncomfortably. He nodded. "We did because we're that good."
"You don't seem afraid of anything. Are you?" he asked.
Sunstreaker thought a moment. The things he feared … the loss of Bluestreak, Sideswipe and his infants, the endangerment of his extended family, the loss of Ironhide and Ratchet's respect, failure in general … all of it surfaced and he pushed it down. "No," he said simply.
"Some among our own kind would find that kind of thinking not normal. Everyone is afraid of something," Mellar ventured.
Sunstreaker looked at him then leaned in slightly. "You must be among them asking that question."
He shifted and nodded. "Maybe I am," he said boldly.
Sunstreaker leaned back and shrugged. "You probably are." He grinned slightly, something that made the humans feel a *SMIDGE* better. He himself raised Mellar up a couple of notches in his thinking for possessing and using ball bearings.
A chuckle over the intercom caught their attention. "That was really stupid," Silverbolt's voice said. His chuckle would lighten the mood as they came within visual range of the largest of Pluto's five moons.
-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars
They gathered at the center tactical table. Prowl spread out the rolled up datapad that nearly covered the tabletop. It was big enough to handle any venture they would undertake including those that were on the other side of a space bridge. Perceptor, Wheeljack, Prime, Ironhide, Miler, Springer, Drift and Ratchet moved closer, the infant in Ironhide's arms showing no interest in the pretty light show laid out before them.
"We have a big group coming in and the city is prepared to absorb them. However, we also have a large group of Decepticons flying along with them. We don't have any information about them and we need to find out if they're going to be trouble," Prowl said.
"We should assume they are until they prove otherwise," Ironhide said swaying gently.
Prime nodded. "I want to send a message to the migration and get a chance to find out what is coming," he said as Prowl stepped away to the console behind him.
By the time the big winger returned to the line up Hero was in his arms. Ironhide glaring at Prowl and looking at his empty arm shot deadly optics to the smirking bot. "What the frag?"
"You snooze, you lose," Prowl said cuddling the infant.
Ratchet snorted and patted Ironhide. "Sold out by a fellow Praxian. Why do tears refuse to fall from my optics?"
"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO SUPPORT ME, OLD SLAGGER!" Ironhide said glaring at Ratchet.
"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO CALL ME FOR FIRST TIME THINGS WITH HERO!" Ratchet replied.
"Oh. Right," Ironhide said turning to Prime who stood with a giant smile on his face. "Where were we?"
Slag ensued.
-0-On the ground at Charon
He stepped off, the crunch of the desiccated ground under his ped lost in the emptiness of vacuum. He looked at the men standing in the doorway of Silverbolt. They glanced at each other, then began to file down the ramp. Stepping on the surface of the moon, they smiled at each other. :WE'RE ON THE FUCKING MOON OF PLUTO!: Mellar said.
Lenora who was with them looked up at Sunstreaker. :I'm in awe that you don't need air:
Sunstreaker nodded. :I know: He reached down and gently picked her up. Looking at the others, he nodded. Then he began to walk to the installation that was nearby, the lights in the big windows signaling habitation here at the edge of oblivion. The men hurried to follow, the intern from Autobot City bringing up the rear. He would be the footage that would count. The others were too overwhelmed to film. In this instance, they would be part of the show.
He reached the building and entered the code that opened the outside hatch. When all were inside, Sunstreaker entered and it closed. He keyed the inside to pressurize and when it did the inside hatch opened. They stepped in to the main room of the fort. It was half lounge and half command center. Below their peds were the living quarters, play rooms and storage for the fort.
Mellar looked around and paused as he saw a forest of legs. Staring up, he looked into the grinning faces of the ten bots stationed there. :Hi: he said.
They nodded.
-0-Ops Center, 3.1 billion miles away from Pluto or 34.1 standard AU's
Miler nodded. "We can do that, Optimus. We can focus a tight beam to send the message through, then time the gate to open wide enough to send the flight through and back again. It won't take very long and even if it registers they won't have reactive time."
Wheeljack nodded. "Tell us the size of the flyover team, their top speeds … that is, the speeds they have to assume to make a good sensor scan of the cons and migration … we can work out the details with that much information."
"Prowl?" Optimus asked.
"I will calculate it," Prowl said. He looked at Starscream who had just arrived with Red Wing and Cloud Burst, his field commanders. "Who do you suggest for this flight?"
Starscream thought a moment consulting internally with Red Wing and Cloud Burst. Then he looked at the table maps. "I have specialists in a lot of areas, Optimus Prime. I have recon specialists who can fly through, scan the slag out of everything and return before they can even register what happened."
"I would need them on this, Starscream," Optimus said. "This has to be as fast as we can make it."
"You have them," Starscream said. "Stealth is of the essence. So is security. May I suggest that you arrange for the refit of the prison? Our brig might handle bad aft commanders but the rank and file might need more space to accommodate their numbers."
Optimus nodded. He looked at Springer. "That's your job, Springer."
He nodded. "My pleasure."
"When is this going to happen, Optimus?" Ratchet asked.
"Tomorrow," Optimus said. "I want this done swiftly so we can plan how to bring the migration in without provoking a fight."
They nodded in agreement. The conversation and planning continued.
-0-City Hall, Metroplex District
Ultra Magnus sat in the big conference room with the heads of city departments. He had listened in on the planning session for the rescue having been delegated his portion of the process. He would manage the intake and housing portion of the migration once again. His staff were professionals in the management of vast numbers of refugees and this was going to be no different. He would make sure of it himself.
"There is no estimate of the size of the need coming this way. They will do a flyover tomorrow to scan the population and critical areas. Apparently, there are Seekers who specialize in this sort of operation who will do that. What I want to know is how are things going to stack up if we put together a need of say, 100,000+ individuals?"
They sat together and organized it. It was what they did.
-0-Charon
They toured the base chatting with the bots there. Sunstreaker had blown their minds pulling the component crate out of his subspace. He shrugged when asked about it and told them to talk to Wheeljack. When all was settled, they followed him again across the unholy landscape of the planet toward Silverbolt, Leonora riding on his servo. She felt the power in his hand and considered how smushed she would be if he ever closed his fingers. It wasn't a pleasant thought.
They entered the big ship and began the three hour ride back to Autobot City. They would pepper him with questions, gab with Silverbolt and make their way back from a world they couldn't survive without their suits toward one that looked like they could.
Mellar logic.
=0=TBC 2012 (10) edited 12-21-18