The Diego Diaries: Shadow Box 10 (dd3 174)
-At the school
Sideswipe sped into the main classroom where their daughters spent their orns. Pausing beside Bluestreak, he smiled. "Hey, Babe."
"Sideswipe," Blue said looking up from where he'd been placing tiny chairs around tiny tables where the smallest sparklings learned to sit and do things as a group. He smooched his bond. "What's up?"
"We have duty shortly, Sunny and me. Change of schedule. Someone's sparkling is separating who works at the prison. We get to do their duty for the next few orns. Where's Sunny?"
"He's upstairs. He's helping with the pool," Bluestreak said. "When do you start and how long is the shift? A full shift?"
Sideswipe nodded. "Yes," he said. "A full shift in about three joors."
"Why don't we get the babies and eat out? Miler and Venture can come along, too," Bluestreak said.
Sideswipe hugged Bluestreak tightly, blowing a raspberry on his neck.
Blue hugged him back, looking up at him with a grin. "You're feeling good today."
"We were shifted off the outpost duty schedule for a while. That's enough reason to celebrate."
"True enough," Blue said with a grin as he watched Sideswipe roll to the door. He transformed to peds and glanced back. "Meet ya at Cafe Praxus in half a joor."
Blue nodded as Sideswipe left heading upward to the pool room several stories above them.
-0-Upstairs
"Hey."
Sunstreaker looked up from the middle of the pool which was beginning to fill with water. He'd helped with the transfer of tools and other things they used in the pool with the babies. Now he was helping them get the water temperature right. "Pretty shallow for you don't you think?"
Sunstreaker grinned. "I'm testing the water temperature."
"Beats working," Sideswipe said with a smirk.
"Someone has to let them know. They're having a problem making the water warm enough," Sunstreaker said moving to sit on the side of the pool, his peds resting in the water. "Right now, its 69 degrees. Too cold for the sparklings to feel comfortable."
Sideswipe nodded and sat himself lowering his peds in the slowly swirling water, too. "This feels pretty good."
"You just noticed?" Sunstreaker said with a grin. "When this is over, lets go to the Sports Center in Terra. They have hot tubs that swirl."
"Sounds awesome," Sideswipe said. "However, in three joors we have to be at the prison to do a tour for someone whose bond is separating any second now." It was silent a moment. "This really feels good."
Sunstreaker smirked. "I think so," he said. "We have night shift at the prison for how long?"
"At least a few orns,"
Sunstreaker nodded. "I wonder if we're going to see Sentinel."
Sideswipe looked at him as a hard expression formed on his face. "I hope not. Slagger."
Sunstreaker nodded. "Might be fun," he said without a trace of mirth in his voice.
-0-At Sciences
Wheeljack considered the question and the possible answers. Then he knew that he couldn't explain it simply enough for the humans to understand. He'd tried with the scientists. They'd come around to the edges of understanding. These filmmakers hadn't a chance to reach that far given the circumstances. It seemed too much like magic or voodoo for the humans to grasp. "I can't explain it to you in a way that would make much sense. Just take it for truth that we can carry things in subspace that we need and use."
Jack Mellar considered that. :Tell me about space bridges then: he said.
Wheeljack grinned.
-0-In Ops Center
They sat together as Springer explained things to all of the gathered mechs and femmes. By the time he was done Optimus was grinning, Prowl was scandalized, Ratchet was amused at Prowl's unease and general befuddlement at the notion being fronted, Jazz was pacing from the sheer joy of it, Mirage was lounging enjoying Jazz pacing, Starscream was musing on the oddity of grounders and their flights of fancy, Ironhide was enjoying everyone's enjoyment as well as Prowl's disquiet and Elita was chuckling.
"Springer, you're certifiable," she said with a grin.
"That's been true forever," Springer said with a wink. "I just think that the more we frag with him the less able he will be to make good judgments and build measures against us."
"Telling them that you're his bond, Ratchet and Ironhide his genitors and Bumblebee his youngling among other family yet to be named is good tactics?" Prowl asked as the fritz began to gather in his guts.
"Consider it this way, Prowl," Kup said gathering his own flights of fancy together as he sat quietly at the end of the table with the rest of the security mob. "He won't know what's true or not. If we can set up a reliable drop for him to get information, we can feed lies and he'll buy them. Using this as a starting point is one way to get his attention and keep it."
"But telling him military trivia and the like could solve the same thing, right?" Prowl replied with an earnest expression.
"Yeah but where's the fun in that?" Springer replied with a grin.
Optimus grinned at the big mech who had been his personal savior on many a cold night in the midst of their long defeat. He looked at Prowl whose expression he filed away for future scrutiny over a brew. "Since nothing he would be getting would be true anyway having a little bit of fun could not hurt. Leave your enemy guessing about you. I rather like the idea of slagging him myself."
Prowl looked up at him, a slight frown of complete oblivion on his face as he tried to digest this detour through crazy town and failed. "I guess that will do then," he said.
Optimus grinned. "It will for me. Elita and Jazz, prepare what you think will be a good scenario for us to feed him information on a continual basis, then present it to me and this team when you are ready. I also want the scheme drawn up with me included in the planning. Since it was my idea in the first place I would like to be part of this slagging."
Springer grinned. "Consider it done."
Prowl looked at Springer as the second crazy event of the day unfolded before him. Earlier he had spoken at a Magistrate's Court regarding the younglings being held for trial...
"Sir."
A voice gave him pause so he stopped his journey down the corridor to the elevator and turned with his game face firmly in place. Several of the high caste youngling's genitors were walking to catch up to him.
One of them, a big mech with an exquisite paint scheme looked at him levelly. "Sir, I would like to know why someone with your busy schedule took the time to come here and speak at the trial of my son for misdemeanor charges."
The others closed the gap and paused to look at him with varying degrees of emotionalism that were beyond Prowl to decipher.
"I came here to make it clear to those in a developing ongoing problem that this kind of behavior is not tolerated here. I'm responsible for the safety and well being of everyone. Anyone who's in opposition to that is my responsibility. Your son and the other four have been causing discord since they got here."
"My son is not the problem," the mech said. "He and his friends aren't the problem."
"Then enlighten me," Prowl said levelly.
The big mech considered his words carefully. "Those younglings, the other ones … they've been harassing my son since we came here. Even before that. We've had trouble with them before we left for the migration."
"Where did you originate that you would have contact with them?" Prowl asked.
"Folix 2. We had a colony there and these younglings were harassing my son and his friends since then," the big mech said.
"If I asked others from Folix 2 for information regarding this allegation would there be truth to your statement?" Prowl asked calmly.
The mech stared at Prowl with an expression that was hardening into something he'd seen often. It was an expression high castes suffering from mech entitlement syndrome often formed on their faces when they weren't 'getting through' to the one to whom they were speaking. "I don't doubt it."
"Then consider it done. I would like to know the sorts of individuals that live here and what they pose to the greater whole myself. I will ask personally," he said, his poise perfection even as his wings betrayed his anger. "No one is allowed to assume that they have advantages by reason of some now outlawed social designation over anyone else who lives here. We practice the concept of unity.
"Everyone is as valuable as anyone else and no one more so by reason of some arbitrary designation by those with a vested interest in dividing our society into the haves and have nots. You would do well to understand that. High castes before you learned to their detriment that thinking otherwise was a sad trail to roam."
"You assume that we're the aggressors, that we're the natural bad element here. I will have you know, sir, that my family served Cybertron for generations and did so with distinction," he said stiffly.
"So did everyone else. So did the families of the mechs your son has been brawling with. Who created the wealth that you possessed? Who did the work that made life sustainable on Cybertron? You? I heartily doubt it," Prowl said coldly. "The video shows your son and the other four cowardly taunting peaceful mechs and fighting them in a public space. They harmed two other individuals as well. I'd think that would be of more consequence to you than chastising me for doing my duty."
"Your duty," the big mech said bitterly. "We know of the situation as it exists here for high castes, how Kudon was murdered and how there's little concern for the issues and problems of our caste."
"You haven't heard me," Prowl said moving closer even as he lowered his voice slightly. "There is no caste system here."
They stared at each other, then Prowl walked off, his dignity intact and his anger firmly under control. As he entered the elevator he sent word to Springer and Drift to do intel on the colony on Folix 2. He'd have chapter and verse if he had to dig it out himself. The elevator door closed and he disappeared from view altogether.
Sitting at the table in the present moment, listening to comedy surrounding the idea of slagging Paragon with falsehoods about the bonded and genitorial status of most of the mechs and femmes at the table, Prowl of Praxus chalked it up to the fact that some things passeth understanding.
By the time everyone got up to go, a drop scheme was in place that would 'allow the 'Cons to receive intel without the Autobots knowing about it' and all manner of interesting and intriguing ideas were part of an ever growing list of possible 'intel' with which to deceive.
He would live another nine million years and not get it. But he didn't care. As long as Prime was happy, he was.
-0-Later that night
"You can do perimeter patrols," the Officer of the Orn said as the prison night crews gathered to go on duty. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker nodded knowing that their duty would pass faster if they could move around. When the briefing was over, they stepped out of the Guard Center and transformed their peds. Moving off in different directions, they slowly rolled around checking this and that outside of the fence perimeter.
Cell block A was silent with nearly all the inmates inside watching the television. A new episode of Platoon was playing. The two had Bluestreak tape it for later consumption so they wandered along slowly without much of a care. The sky was beautiful, filled with the lights of stars and the city beyond including Terra was intensely beautiful. The illumination pushed back the soft darkness of evening and the air was a balmy -45 degrees.
Sunstreaker skated slowly along, his optics scanning a ridge nearby that rose gently from the flat empty plain that defined their life. As he moved along he heard a noise nearby. Pausing to turn with his sensors on full, he noted a familiar figure standing by the fence also looking up to study the night sky.
Sunstreaker moved closer then stopped. He smirked humorlessly. "You're out tonight. Bored are ya?" he asked coldly.
Sentinel Prime considered the familiar figure before him. "Maybe." He grinned mirthlessly. "Good to see you again, Sunstreaker."
-0-TBC 2013 (1) 5-4-19