The Diego Diaries: Shadow Box 14 (dd3 178)
-0-Later that afternoon
Ironhide stepped onto the train to go back to The City from Aerie Hill. The huge expansion of the Seeker habitat had been a marvel to see and the big armories and depots below ground just the thing to facilitate their arming as well as weapon repair-upgrades without clogging up the system.
He had also gone out to the new armory in Phase Four of the expansion of Terra that was being built several stories below ground with blast shielding strong enough to withstand nuclear weapons. Terra would house soldiers and Home Guard members, too, so they would need cared for as well.
Hero lay in his arms staring at him as they stood in a beautiful shiny subway car flashing through the system, overhead lights filling the tunnels with brightness as the car tripped their sensors. When it passed, the lights dialed down waiting for other cars to go through. Hero was on a tour of the new spaces, meeting new mechs and the odd femme, going about the city that would be home for her with her old pa. He was intensely proud to show her and filed away every compliment given by anyone who spoke about her. He may be an older genitor but he was in love with his infants.
The train pulled into their station so he stepped off walking with the few passengers across the platform, heading upward to the steps that would take them above ground to the city. They would emerge into the light and facing them would be the Cultural Center and the tower where they lived. Its shadow would be long on the ground.
Pausing to look up, he grinned. "Let's go see your old ada, Hero. Let's go see what that slagger is up to." With that, he turned left and walked toward Mare Tranquilitatis and the Autobot City Medical Center Tower where Ratchet hung his hat.
Metaphorically.
-0-The Mole in Sector Seven, New York City, New York, USA, Earth
He sat staring at the screen as he watched the last bit of data being downloaded into the special drive he'd been given to facilitate huge data dumps by his benefactors. He had been selling bits and pieces of his research project to this and that individual before finally connecting with real money and expertise.
Some loons in a group called MECH had given him a call through the circuitous grape vine asking for a chat. It had been had, commitments made and his future immeasurably brightened by the conversation. He was going to be taking a 'much needed break' from his job and spend part of his 'recuperation' time with their scientists as they went through the masses of data he'd been slipping out of Sector 7 for some time now.
He had an enormous bank account in the Cayman Islands, a warehouse filled with concept cars including his dazzling red Lamborghini and a secret apartment in London from which to launch gaudily expensive forays into the world the way he'd always dreamed about. No one was on to him. He'd been aware that Seymour had been poking around in his usual 'nondescript' manner. That is, Simmons had telegraphed his intentions clearly enough for him to fake an illness as well as seek and receive medical approval for a lengthy convalescence.
There were two other translators working on the data blocks but they weren't in his class. They were still poking around the edges while him himself had built a computer interface that could decipher Cybertronian code in his overwhelming frustration with the Alien's strange language.
Mostly.
It certainly wasn't in the Indo-European language family he decided early on.
It was good enough that he could build his financial beachhead and have the life he'd craved since he was a little nerd getting slapped around in public school. Now he was divorced, filled with unlimited pocket money and aching to be free. A few meetings with MECH and he would be on his way.
He watched as the interface device downloaded massive chunks of alien data into the small black box MECH had given him which was on the floor hidden by his new Guccis. When the shift was over, so was he. He was off to meet with the money geeks, get another huge deposit to the account, then head off for his 'medical leave' in Fiji.
Life was damned good.
-0-In the hallway
Seymour Simmons walked down the corridor holding a small data device in his hand. He was working on alien data, too, but having only minor luck. The three geeks they had doing this for Sector 7 continually mentioned the difficulty of breaking a code that looked like a cat puked on their shoes. It was maddening. So he did the next best thing. He decided to become a code breaker, too. How hard could it be? And now that their lead man was taking a medical for shot nerves, it was his national duty to try.
So he did.
He walked past the mole and continued onward to the computer room unaware that the one he sought was watching him go with a big grin on his face.
He would plotz if he knew.
-0-In the office of the CMO
"Give."
(Reluctant compliance. Sitting with much old black ped flopping on small tables)
"You look good."
"Why thank you, Ironhide. I do try to keep up appearances. I have an image to live up to."
"You do, slagger. What is the word on the meet up on Earth?"
"Well, Ironhide, it'll be in about two or three orns. They're talking about it now on the news channels from Earth."
"Will Prime go, too?"
(Shrugs) "I don't know. He feels there's value to being mysterious but I believe we're losing the narrative. The speculation is getting out of servo. If we go and turn the tide by showing his awesomeness and overwhelming messianic divinity, it could calm things down."
"You have a few screws loose, old mech. Might have First Aid check your processor."
(Smirk) "You're just peeved I have the sparkling. She's quite the little diva. Look at this."
(Tiny sparkling is set down on desktop of the CMO. Held between two red servos, she looked at her Atar and grins. Atar commences melt down into puddle as little femme flaps her arms in joy)
"Look at that, Ratchet. Little femme is flying."
"I noticed. She's been conspiring with Sunspot lately. I have seen lots of whispering going on between them."
(Grin) -both
"Watch this, Ironhide."
(Red servos hold femme as she sits, then slip back. Little femme who is watching her Atar grins in a big familiar way. She flaps her arms and falls flat on her back.)
"Oh, oh. That'll teach her to multitask."
(Grin) -both of them.
(Red servos sit her back up. She smiles) "Tweet." (It's a dainty tweet. Soft and gentle. Two big genitors have an 'awww' moment. Then she grins at her atar) "A!"
(Two big genitors look at her, then each other, then her) "WHAT THE FRAG!" -both.
"Ratchet, she said, "'A!' Who was she talking to?"
"Me." -(Ratchet)
"Me. You were talking to me, right?" (Big black Autobot World Bender/Blah, blah, blah, etc leans forward) "You were talking to me, right, baby?"
(She grins at him and clutches her servos tightly as she absorbs the singular attention of both her most favorite mechs. Then in her excitement, she punches herself in the face with her balled up fists. Sitting, blinking, she's the spitting image of her genitors who are doing the same thing. Looking at Ironhide, her little face crumples into a very sweet sad.)
"What the frag?" Ironhide said picking up his daughter. He held her before his face, then kissed her. Her little weeps slowed and stopped.
"A."
Ironhide looked at Ratchet who was leaning on his elbows as he sat behind his desk. "See? Me."
"Slagger. It could mean any of us." Ratchet sat back and fixed a smirk on the slagger of his dreams. "Are you trying to repeat the Orion Caper again?"
The images of his little baby sitting on a couch in the little lounge off Central Corridor in the Fortress while Uncle Optimus and himself tried to get Orion to call his ada 'ada' and not 'ass' flooded his processor. "No."
"Good. Just checking, IRONHIDE!"
/... slag …/ -Ironhide.
He still beamed at his daughter anyway.
-0-On the street
They wandered along, a tiny mech and two tinier femmes. Kaon was slightly ahead and the twins were following, their tiny legs only able to step so wide. The twins followed with leashes and when the film crew drove up, they paused. Looking down at Leonora Huttle and her crew, they smirked. :What's up?:
:I saw your kids. They're SO CUTE!: Huttle said with a smile. She looked up at the two bots she had come to enjoy greatly. :They're adorable. They can walk now. The girls:
They both nodded. :The girls are ahead of schedule. Kaon's been walking for a long time.: Sideswipe said.
:I love them. Did they just get out of school?: Huttle asked.
:They did. We're heading for the studio: Sunstreaker said. He was filled with joy that someone was loving on his infants. They were the greatest creative act of his life and they made a lot of bad things good. He filed away the comments as they came for later review. :What about you? I thought you were following the femme team:
:We are. We have an interview scheduled with all of them for later: She thought a moment. :I was wondering, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe. I was wanting to know about what makes a mech or femme attractive from a Cybertronian point of view? What makes them appeal to others? I know that both of you are considered extremely handsome. I don't know how to understand Cybertronian sex appeal. What makes a mech or femme alluring from your point of view? I was hoping that you might consider possibly answering some questions about that.
"They don't need to be recorded. I'm at the point where I think I just want to know for myself. I find it extremely easy to find your species handsome and all of that. I just was curious about what you thought among yourselves. If you could think about that I'd be in your debt:
They looked at her, then each other.
Sideswipe looked at her. :You're looking for background for your own understanding then:
She nodded. :I know that there are enormous taboos on a lot of things. I wouldn't want to transgress on that. I'm just interested a great deal in your species and how you view each other from the inside:
They considered that. She watched them more than aware they were discussing this internally.
Then Sunstreaker looked at her, at a human that appealed to him. He had wondered if it was because she was nice, loved his kids and their species or if it was a femme thing hardwired into his manhood. He didn't know. He just knew that she was sincere. :Come with us. We're going to the studio. We'll answer what's allowed and nothing more. You can't record it:
She smiled and nodded. :Thank you, Sunstreaker. We're right behind you."
Sunstreaker picked up his daughters as Sideswipe picked up their son. Then they walked onward, a segway filled with human females following, their cameras filming the enormous bots as they covered ground to the Cultural Center beyond.
-0-On the street, NYC
He stood outside the building where he'd worked for years. He'd made a decent living with good benefits but it wasn't enough for his restless spirit. He'd fought with the wife over money and aspirations, both of them finding that neither had the same ideas. The divorce was inevitable and his freedom afterward less than the moment he thought it would become.
The alien data had fallen from heaven into his lap. It was his ticket to the life he had dreamed of. He took a deep breath and exhaled, a grin forming on his rather nondescript face. With a spring in his step, he walked onward to the subway that would take him to the apartment where he lived. Gathering his things, he would take a cab to the airport and fly to Las Vegas and his meeting with MECH.
After that, the world.
He disappeared down a subway entry to the darkness below, swallowed up by the late afternoon rush hour crowds.
-0-Autobot City, Mars
He walked upward out of the subway heading to Ops Center with his brother. Mack had turned into a find as his assistant. The two had always been close and the rapport was paying off. Jetta had cleared a number of issues under the organizational effort of his younger brother. All was good he thought as they chatted their way down the street toward the Fortress.
All indeed was good.
-0-TBC 2013 (1) edited 5-4-19
(By the way, someone asked how you pronounced Atar. You can do it how you like. Ah-tar or atter or otter. Two syllables or one. Ah-duh or Aah-daah. Just like their appearance, this is open to you to decide.) Thanks for the question. :D :D :D :D :D