The Diego Diaries: Interlude 3
-0-In a dojo at the Cultural Center
He was lounging in a chair when they found him, all 26 feet of lethal mechanism relaxing with familiar faces after a lifetime on the move. Grinning, he looked at them as they approached. "What took you so long?"
"Kids," Sunstreaker said slapping his servo across Splice's outstretched hand. Sideswipe returned the salutation as well as they found chairs, sitting and sprawling as only big, athletically inclined, powerfully configured mechanisms could. "You energize?"
"Yeah," Splice said nodding. "Was that Class A energon or am I dreaming?"
"It was," Sideswipe said. "You're sitting on it. This planet is half Class A and A- energon."
"Frag," Splice said with a grin. "That's amazing. I was told Megatron was here several times but never knew that."
"He never did, the slagger," Sideswipe said with great satisfaction. "He won't either if we can help it."
-0-In a Detention Pod in Security Level 9, Brig, Decepticon HQ, Kaon, Cybertron
Soundwave looked at the pulsating spark that was housed in its own original chamber. It was held in suspension in a stasis cubicle, a dull sensory-free hell for anyone who was unfortunate to be there. He had come down to check on the 'lodgings' of his 'guest' and 'ally', Overlord. That bot's protoform was in storage hanging in a locker like a castoff suit of clothes.
Soundwave stood before the glowing cubicle with satisfaction. Turning, he ordered the guards to the door to wait outside. He presumed they would believe he was enjoying the victory over this infamously notorious monster and didn't want company. They would only be partly right. He could do that with or without company. What he wanted to do now was to communicate with the detached psyche of the beast without anyone knowing he had figured out how to do it.
It was common knowledge that the Decepticons and their putative allies used lethal, unethical and even mad science to gain whatever foothold or advantage they could against a foe led by a Matrix-bearer. It had come to Soundwave that as long as Prime's 'magic' was greater than theirs, they would not win.
Given that Megatron was less interested in process than he was in outcomes, he didn't want to know how Soundwave and Shockwave reached certain levels of technological accomplishment. He let them instead be free to run wild in the pursuit of victorious advantages, damn the costs. Megatron just wanted to know if it worked and how it advanced him.
Few knew that Soundwave was a collector of ideas and technology, his spies and tentacles reaching surprising depths of undetected access. They knew he was spied constantly, using information gathered against them to his advantage. No one was aware however that the things Shockwave did or created weren't a secret from him either. No one was aware that Soundwave laboriously educated himself in everything that the mad scientist and secret bond mate of Megatron thought up or created so he could turn it around for himself.
It was difficult and many times frustrating to the point of madness but he had kept up, his symbiots keeping him clued in as the clueless everywhere went about the business of conquering not only Optimus Prime but each other. He knew that was why Megatron bonded with Shockwave. The megalomaniac had assessed threat and took one of his most relentlessly unpredictable foes off the table. If he, Megatron died, Shockwave died too. That Megatron didn't know Shockwave was working on survival of sparks following the death of a bond was something that worked to Soundwave's advantage. All of the mad scientist's other projects were golden opportunities as well. Shockwave was nothing if not prolific.
Megatron was nothing if not … exotic. That Shockwave wasn't repelled by the demands made upon him by his 'bond' said something about his own personal depravity as well. Neither were aware that none of their machinations, projects and crusades were secure, so carefully and thoroughly did Soundwave operate. Nothing they did passed by Soundwave's constant vigil and the traps, taps and listening networks he had in place. As it was, Soundwave filed those peccadilloes as he always did: against the future. It was a future he dreamed about constantly, when he himself would crush Megatron's spark and claim the greatest prize of all, Cybertron.
He subbed a meter and ran it over the space where Overlord's essence hung in limbo. Finding the right frequency, he extended a tentacle which welded itself to the console. When the link up was made, he stood a moment listening to the mad rambling invective of the big mechanism as he floated in nothingness.
"Overlord"
The word pierced the static insanity of Overlord's spark and he heard a voice say his name at a level of understanding that he never had before. It was his name. It shimmered all around him without a starting point or a face behind it. It just 'was'. He didn't know which way to turn or move. He wasn't sure those things were even possible. He just called out.
"I AM HERE!"
Outside in reality, Soundwave smiled.
-0-In a dojo
"When the city fell I ran. The gang fell apart and no one was sticking around. I hopped a ship and they took off rambling all over the local sectors trying to flee. When we landed on a way point on the trail from Cybertron to Junk, I hopped another ship. This one was filled with Neutrals. There were other bots there too, the Missionaries."
Lon glanced at the older bots. They knew what he meant. He ventured a question. "What are the missionaries?"
Splice looked at the youngling, someone obviously enamored of the mechs here and seeking a meaningful life outside of his obviously high caste. He made a mental note to help Lon on his way. "During the run up to revolution, there was a vast peace movement. Some of them were just neutral because they didn't want to fight. Some wanted to protect their interests and the system. A lot of high and mid caste mechs didn't want war to change their life. They made a lot of noise about staying out of things. It didn't work."
The mechs sitting with them nodded, all of them old enough to remember.
"There was a movement that sprang up that was different. The mechs and femmes that joined it were a mixed bag. There were religious and nonreligious. High, mid and low castes. I remember the Temple priests were in the mix and so were all manner of professions. The unions came up from the underground and organized protests. They were outlawed by then. I hear that Jetta is here. He can tell you about that.
"It was all non violent. They had bearings. They used their bodies to protest and many were the beatings and incarcerations that happened to them. They never reacted violently back. I remember thinking they were crazy but now I understand what they were trying to do. It's like the old saying goes … First, they laugh at you. Then they kill you. Then you win."
Lon nodded. "Were you a missionary? Why were they called missionaries?"
"It was an insult," Topspin said. "The media and the opposition called them missionaries as an insult to belittle them because their movement was called the Primus Peace Mission. They insulted the members who were a cross section of Cybertron and because they were nonviolently seeking reconciliation they were gaining ground in public opinion. They were also for ending the system and replacing it with justice and opportunity. They never had a chance," he said shaking his helm.
Splice nodded. "They were persecuted to the ends of Cybertron. The Neutrals began to leave but the Missionaries stayed. They didn't go until the end but by then thousands of them were in prisons, work camps or dead. It was the saddest thing I ever saw once I figured it out."
Lon nodded. The twins were listening, themselves having crossed the path of Missionaries in the past. "There are Missionaries here," Sideswipe said. Splice glanced at him sharply. "Ratchet told me last night that the trine with the baby who was tossed out into vacuum are Missionaries."
"I'll have to look them up. I want to know if some of the mechs I knew survived or not." A hard expression came to his handsome features and he shook his helm. "It would be a miracle."
It was silent a moment, then Sideswipe nudged his ped. "How did you get so pure?"
Splice grinned slightly. "I fell in with a hunter group of Knights, one led by Dai Altas."
"Where is he? Do you know?" Topspin asked.
"I heard he was going to build a network out there, help refugees and then penetrate Cybertron. I think he's there now."
They all nodded. "So you're a Circle mech and a Knight?"
Splice nodded. "I am. I joined the Circle when I landed in a colony built by them. They were trading on the far edge of nowhere and had a nice set up, teaching their non violent way and trying to make a society that was what Cybertron never was. Then the 'Cons came and they had to leave. They're on their way last I knew. I left with Dai when he caught up with us. That's how I joined the Knights."
Lon looked at his tattoos. "You have a Circle of Light tattoo. You have a Knight of Cybertron tattoo. What is this one?" he asked noting a small image of Cybertron enclosed in a gold ring.
"That's for the Missionaries," he said quietly.
"You're a Missionary too?" Sunstreaker asked with surprise.
Splice nodded. "I am," he said almost defiantly.
They stared at each other, three mechs that had landed in the same Youth Center at the age of Kaon now. All of the hard knocks of life, the gangs and crime afterward as they struggled in a system that didn't value them, it hadn't broken any of them. Much. It was a miracle of a sort.
"You've taken vows?" Sideswipe asked with a smirk.
The laughter could be heard throughout the Center.
-0-Ops Center, Conference Room, Senior Autobot Officer Debrief
"And that is what we know about the group that was held. They are a mix of Circle, Neutral, wandering mech and femme as well as a tiny number of Missionaries in the mix," Prowl said.
They all sat and digested that. "At least some of them made it out," Wheeljack said remembering brave younglings and elders that walked into the beast with only their personal courage and conviction.
"I admired them more than the Neutrals," Prowl said. "They had ideals that mattered even if their process left something to be desired. The Neutrals didn't exactly aspire to very lofty goals mostly."
Ratchet nodded. "I loved the Primus Peace Mission. They were the bravest bunch I ever knew. They need to be given respect. I want the Museum's Talking History Unit to interview all of them and get their story."
"I wonder what they can tell us. Last time I heard, Prime, they were mostly dead or in custody. Maybe they know things we need to hear," Jazz said.
"Ratchet, you find out," Prime said nodding to the gangling bot with the fake chevron. "You are more on their wavelength."
Ratchet nodded.
The meeting continued.
-0-On the street
They walked along catching up, pointing out the sights of the city. By the time they reached the shooting range Bluestreak was wrapping up the lesson. His students were gathering their gear when he was swept off his peds by Sideswipe. Whirled around, Blue landed on his own peds once more. Turning, looking up, he found himself being scrutinized by three grinning mechs. "Hi," he said with a grin. "I see you found these homeless mechs. If you turn them in to City Hall, they pay bounties."
Sunstreaker grinned. "You've been hanging out with Ratchet again."
"Always," Blue said stowing his weapons.
Sideswipe grabbed the duffel. "This is Bluestreak, the mech whose endless good fortune for bonding with us is off the scale," Sideswipe said. He got an elbow in the chassis for his efforts.
Bluestreak smiled and offered his servo. They gripped wrists in the Cybertronian manner. "Hi. I see you have low standards for personal companionship."
Splice grinned and glanced at the twins. "I like him," he said.
"So do we. Most of the time," Sideswipe said ducking another elbow.
"Come on, Babe. We're going to the Club for a drink," Sunstreaker said turning and nodding toward the sidewalk nearby.
"Which one?" Bluestreak asked as he walked toward the highway to town.
"The usual," Sunstreaker said following him.
Splice stood watching them, then glanced at Sideswipe. "Babe?"
"Because he is," Sideswipe said with a grin. "Come on." With that, the two turned and hurried to catch up.
-0-On Cybertron
Dai Atlas sat at the console of the sensor grid they had laboriously laid over the entirety of Cybertron in the space of several decaorns. It was on a low enough frequency that the Decepticons wouldn't be able to find it. Hidden in the junk static of a world ripped apart, pulsing at a low power gain, its signal boosted from receiving station to receiving station, he sent the first test message.
"We are still here."
It went around Cybertron in less than a minute. He sat back and smirked. "Good, slaggers," he said with satisfaction. "Come and get us."
=0=TBC
2012 (12)