The Diego Diaries: Shadow Box 35 (Edited for boo-boos) :D
-0-Earth, here and there (The House of Representatives dining room)
"What do you think about the hearings, Bob?"
The minority leader of the House opposition shrugged. "They didn't cover themselves with glory by having this stunt hearing. The Autobots are very good at presenting their image and themselves. They didn't hurt their brand. The babies were a tremendously bold statement and seeing Optimus in public was masterful." He sipped his coffee. "They didn't change much I think."
"The overnight polls were pretty decisive and the polls of the past week are solidifying into a majority pro-Autobot sentiment in the public," the chief of staff said sitting down with his own coffee. The bustle of the dining room was welcomed after a morning of hot debate on the floor over the treaties that were held between the United States and the Autobot Nation.
"They had a lot of fiery rhetoric, Bob, but they made no significant inroads. The public saw Optimus Prime and felt confidence," Sam the Chief of Staff replied. "They will be okay in the long run."
"Not if the terror acts continue. We have to put an end to that. If we had enough votes, we could do more about hunting them but the opposition is blocking it. Did you speak to the Majority Whip about this? Did you appeal to his patriotism?" Bob asked with a trace of sarcasm.
"Dead end I'm afraid," he replied with a sigh. Their lunch came and they began to eat. They would need it. The afternoon and the next two weeks would be one long continuation of the same.
-0-In the country (The Opposition including foreign representatives)
They gathered around the table to discuss the strategy that would become the next week's campaign. Their network spanned oceans, their funding was immense and available, their expertise undeniable. They were a professional outfit from the get go. Amateurs had been weeded and everyone left had skills, understood secrecy and their smaller part in the bigger picture which was only represented by the gathering. Everyone else were in cells that if captured would limit damage by their distance from the center.
There were soldiers, politicians, media and militia standing alongside the scientists who were part of their master plan. The path to triumph was through the reworking of public opinion. They would do that with a spring bombing campaign and a lot of turmoil and push from their side of politics. They had already begun that step with the hearings. Those showed them that they had a long road to go.
But they were patient. The path to their objective lay through the streets of Europe, the vastness landscape of Asia, the faraway vistas of Africa, Australia and the Americas. They were prepared to turn the world upside down to win and they were prepared to go the distance.
They discussed Phase One of their campaign together, each of them working out their own part of the complex weave of actions to be undertaken. They would do so with data taken from the Autobots themselves, data that had been funneled to them by a technician from a shadowy organization named Sector 7. That technician had given them the mother lode. He however would not be seen again. He was too busy underneath ten feet of earth in an Iowa cornfield to be bothered.
He had outlived his usefulness to the Alien Resistance.
-0-Earlier (several weeks before)
He had been taken by private jet to Nevada and put up in the mountain top house of a casino gazillionaire. He had basked in the greatness of the moment, well aware that they were needful of the information he had been doling out in small doses for some time. He had been found through the labyrinthine maze of billionaire revolutionaries and their tech fellows. He personally didn't give a damn about all of that. He just saw them as a source of an infinite supply of money for his new life which would begin in two days when he flew off to Fiji.
Unfortunately for Boston Martindale, on-leave analyst of Sector 7, he would never have the chance to do that.
-0-Three days later (In a warehouse and underground installation in Las Vegas)
They stood around the table looking at the stack of CD-roms and stand alone drives that were loaded with terabytes of information from the alien craft that been found by their government forty years or so before. The devices contained gigantic chunks of intriguing technology and information that had been leaking into the greater world by the sad sack who was sitting drowsily on a chair nearby. It had reached their attention, so their 'public face', a gazillionaire casino operator named George Hendricks had invited him to come for a visit via his private jet.
He had come and then some.
They played some of the data through an overhead monitor and realized immediately that the language was out of their league. The sleepy man sitting nearby would have a few more days yet. They would have him show them how he cracked their code, what little of it he had managed. Then they wouldn't need him anymore. Until then, he would be handled like the Queen of Sheba.
-0-In San Francisco
They sat together with the other members of the regional task force that had bee formed to track and arrest members of a group of different organizations that were beginning to be called The Revolution in the news. The Family was a part of it as was a shady organization calling itself M.E.C.H. There were indications that the money funding them was coming in from off shore after having been laundered through layers of protection starting here in the states. There were groups that claimed affiliation but seemed doubtful. A number of racist and nativist groups advocated the activities and aims of the group but didn't appear to be part of it. This group was sleek and streamlined for security and efficiency.
It was also international. There were cells in Europe, northern Africa, Australia, South America, Canada and China. They were tight, mobile and extremely adept at staying below radar. They were also spreading. The map on the wall behind the task force had colored pins locating areas that now had or earlier indicated their presence.
They were good. It would be a chase. They might be calling in some help. Alien help.
The afternoon passed slowly by.
-0-Elsewhere
He walked into the apartment and paused. Sitting at the kitchen table looking at the handiwork of his children, Sunstreaker poured over the data. Walking to the table to sit, Sideswipe watched Sunstreaker. "We have duty shortly."
"I know," Sunstreaker said his optics fixed on a picture that Kaon had made with paint on his peds.
"What are you doing? Digging for meaning? Looking for micro flaws to putty over?" Sideswipe asked as he relaxed on the chair.
"We have to make sure that the sparklings have all they need to do well. If I can help them, I will. You too. You and Blue," he said glancing at his brother a moment.
"You know we will." He sat looking at Sunstreaker. "You know this is partly because of the glitch. You know that Turquoise is getting close to it."
Sunstreaker nodded. "And your point is?" he asked glancing at his brother again.
"I am saying, Sunny, that if they find it and fix you up, you might be more relaxed about the sparklings."
Sunstreaker looked at him, then sat back. "Maybe. Maybe not. I don't want the sparklings to be anything but everything they want to be."
"They will. We'll see to it. What bothers me is how much this hurts you. You are so worried for them that it sort of seems like the joy is missing for you," Sideswipe said quietly.
He looked at his brother, then the work spread out before him. "I'm their ada. I didn't ask for it but I am. My sparklings matter to me, Sideswipe. They matter to all of us but they really matter to me. I don't want them to ever do without. I don't want them to want for anything. If they want to be something big, I will be there helping them. They will never feel like we did. They will never be hungry, cold or unwanted. Never."
"They won't. They have three genitors taking care of them. That doesn't count all the rest of the family. What I want for you is to step back and relax."
He sat back a moment considering the remarks. "When I get through this I will."
Sideswipe smirked slightly. "What are you looking at?"
"The girls' art. Look at this," Sunstreaker said holding up a colorful doodle that had a number of tiny servo prints in it. "They said the girls had a good color sense. I agree. This looks more planned than not. I know this stuff, Sideswipe. I want to help them develop this skill. They could be great artists."
Sideswipe looked at the image and nodded. "Alright. Let's do this together. Then we can get to the Trigger on time."
With that, they bent their helms together on the task.
-0-In the armory
Ironhide stood by the door looking at the flow of material and mechs as the machinery of doom was managed to the nth degree. The inventory was approaching 96% with a clear indication that they would achieve optimal in a few orns. That made him happy. Nothing like groaning shelves of bombs to make a mech smile.
He turned and walked inside pausing by the hook with the tiny bag. Inside curled up at the bottom, Hero slept. She was wearing her gear, had her bunny dollie and was perfect. He grinned and sat down considering the idea of more sparklings. Old mech would have to be drunk, he thought. Old mech would have to be rolling in the dirt before he got sparked again. Ironhide grinned. Then he got back to his work.
-0-At the CMO's office
Ratchet sat at his desk tapping a stylus. Eight more sparklings. The idea of it made his helm twirl. Of course, sparklings were awesome. They would have more he was sure. When, that was the question. He would have to be shit faced on the ground face-first in the dirt. He smirked. Ironhide was a devious foe. He wouldn't have said what he said unless he had it in his processor. This could be fun he thought as he turned to his computer. He would have to stay upright and sober until he was certain what the big devious mechanism was up to.
-0-At Ops Center
Prowl sat replaying tapes of his younglings. Spirit learning how to make geodesic domes. T-Bar working out the formula to make soap as an introduction to chemistry. Rambler researching the history of lighter than air ships as a prelude to a major unit on aerodynamic engineering in his advanced placement course of pre-engineering.
Little mechs had skills.
Coupled with Miracle's achievements and the trine's infants, they were all on track to excel for another learning period. All was good in the calculator shaped world of Prowl of Praxus.
The computer pinged and he paused looking at the data. The data they were tracking about wireless transmission of electrical current was finally traced back to the source. A small office in New York City was the culprit. A man by the name of Houston was the manager/owner of a company, Advance-Tech. They 'specialized' in 'new paradigms' and other such futuristic forward thinking, taking it to companies to develop for a nice slice of the collective pie.
This pie was going to revolutionize the transmission of electrical current to households all over the world. There would be no light poles, plug ins and other archaic paraphenalia with it. It would be sent directly to devices which would only require a simple specialized adaptor at the end of the cord plugs they aready had. Power would find the adaptor and power the device when switched on be it a small hand razor or a nuclear submarine.
This was whizbang tech that was meant to be. Unfortunately, it was also Cybertronian and literally two hundred years ahead of the thinking of the current world. It was the first solid lead they had gotten in what seemed like forever. Now that they had the 'what', they had to find out the 'who'. Who sent this unknown and unknowable piece of thinking to Advance-Tech who then sent it to the company that was going to specialize in making it world wide available, Hepman Enterprises.
The trace back from Advance-Tech should be simple he thought as he bent to the task. He would find the mole himself if it was the last thing he did. Prowl of Praxus would be on it for a while. It would lead to a dead end.
Literally.
-0-TBC
2013 (2) For Pip