The Diego Diaries: Shadow Box 49 (Edited for boo boos and stuff)
-0-On the road
They reached the gathering place and pulled up to hover in space until the go came. Beyond on the three chosen asteroids, Special Ops had set up the simulation. Drawing on the ambient energy of the area and a powerful small generator, they had recreated the camp, the mining area and the comm/sensor areas on three large asteroids flying roughly the same distance apart. This would be the first run of the plan and the first hands-on use of the two on-board ship space bridges, modified devices that could send individuals or groups ahead of the ship from which they came without alerting their enemies.
This technology had been created by Autobots and usurped by the Decepticons over the vorns of warfare and mutual slagging. It had been recovered by the reclamation of bridge scientists in the migrations who had evaded roundup by the 'Cons following the Fall. Now they would see just how stupendous things could become.
-0-Elita's ship, 'City of Altihex'
They sat together getting their weapons and disruptor boxes together. Their entire crew minus Flareup was there and their part of the plan, taking out an entire planetoid's communications and sensor arrays was their focus. They sat on the chairs along the wall, their equipment held on their laps, their demeanor that of a veteran team honed in the fire of a thousand conflagrations over a thousand vorns.
They had lasted on Cybertron when all others had left. They were called the Autobot Resistance, the nascent core of the revolution spreading over their long lost planet like kudzu at this very moment. They had hit and run, blowing up things that the 'Cons could least afford to lose and making them feel the burn.
When even they left, it was to follow the signal that had reached and passed Cybertron itself, the call from their Prime that he was in a place they could come and regroup. The urge to stay was overcome at long last by the bounties and dragnets that were drawing ever more closely. They left and made their way to Mars, securing in this moment in their collective redemption the chance to strike a blow against the enemy that they hated with all their strength.
It was glorious.
Chromia sat next to Elita-1, her tough charisma nearly visible like a cloud around her. She was the second-in-command of the unit, this fabled 'femme' group that had never surrendered. Moonracer and Greenlight chatted together quietly discussing some scientific quirk that Greenlight found interesting. Humming to herself, her guns readily in reach, Moonracer waited with the eagerness of youth. She was the youngest of their original group. She was always ready to prove herself to be a serious warrior to the others, taking risks and chances to show them that her skills were as strong as the other femmes whom she idolized.
Arcee sat across from them, her demeanor as relaxed as if she were sitting in her own apartment. She bantered with Hot Rod and Springer, both of them on other ships, friends of long standing. The distance was too great for a chat with Magnus, the love of her life so she merely contented herself with his energetic signal. It spoke to her of a solidity that she didn't know she needed, of a humbleness that was genuine. It spoke of a single minded devotion to their people, their culture and laws, their future and their protection. Magnus was her matching spark. He was her best friend outside of the special circumstances of their group.
Lancer watched her, the buzz of conversations passing between bots internally a slight thrum in the back of her processor. She didn't tune in, preferring to psych up in her own way. That was the way it was in this hermetically sealed group of mechs who were 'femmes' in the optics of all who sensed their differences even though it didn't register equally in their optics. They were the first group affected in such a fashion by Jhiaxus. They were an 'experiment' whose decided predetermined outcome was a hopeful 'what if'.
What if one took a handful of mechs and tried to change their CNA into that of another gender? What if that gender was based on the musings of a madman who imagined alone what that would entail? What if that maniacal mech was the sole arbiter of how would it look, act and be perceived? What would they, the changed mechs themselves feel and think?
Jhiaxus did just that. He also didn't care whether it would be mutually appreciated or not.
That it was a terrible failure for the mechs involved, that they hated the perception of difference from others when they felt no changes themselves didn't matter. He, Jhiaxus had scratched an intellectual itch. He couldn't be responsible for the feelings and wishes of specimens because it had failed.
This was science.
It was enough for him that he had introduced gender into their genderless population and changed the face of their species forever. The CNA developed during his experimentation had been transferred into the population and after generations of mutations and replications, the figures of definable femmes were part of the landscape of their species but it had not been a clean thing. It had been at a terrible cost to a few.
They had all begun as mechs and internally they still were. But they had been changed in some undefinable manner to the rest of their population. Their CNA was tampered with. Their identity mixed up in a monster's curious desire 'to see what would happen if'." It had changed all of them. They were tougher than tough. They were stronger and more tenacious than before. They were a group with something to prove and they did it every time they strapped on their weapons and walked out to war.
They had an ax to grind and they would do it on the processors of the enemy. They were that good.
Revo leaned out of the shuttle cockpit. "We're on the countdown, Elita," he said.
Elita-1, commander of the most elite 'femme' commando group in the Autobot Armed Forces nodded and looked at her team. "Suit up," she said with a smirk.
They rose and walked to the door. Lining up, they waited for the bridge to burst into being, then stepped into it. As they touched down on the planetoid that held the simulation of sensors and communication arrays, they began their carefully correographed dance of doom. When their peds hit the ground, they were already an unstoppable force, weapons in servo, orders and directions pulsing through their processors over their 'combat line'. By the time the ship was moving upward to fly back to the rendezvous point, the equipment targeted would already be down.
-0-Springer's ship, the Wrecker high speed fighter, 'Impactor's Revenge'
Two teams of twelve mechs sat together, one on each side of the vessel that bore them to war. They were the best, a mix of sharpshooters and urban fighters, all of them frontliners. All were fearless and ready to roll no matter the task at servo. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe sat together, their swords sliding in and out of their sheaths. Blurr sat across from them chatting with Sandstorm who was bragging obout his body count to come. Hot Rod was bantering with Arcee, something that would end shortly. Springer was sitting with Drift, both of them talking offline about who knew what. Kup was silently champing on his stogie and thinking about other missions in other times.
Probably.
Rem leaned out and caught Springer's optics. "We are at T-4."
Springer nodded and rose. "Saddle up, boys. Time to fly."
Everyone stood stretching and checking gear. Their comm lines pinged and everyone passed inspection. Moving to the back where the bridge stood energizing up with Kup and Drift preparing to lead the way, they lined up. They would be one of two ships that would take out the camp with the alien Hu An and the majority of the Decepticons. When both ships bridged them and all had cleared the 100 yards that brought them close enough to the fortified barracks, Seeker fighters would be screaming in to blast the guns and towers that dotted the Control Center's roof.
By the time they reached the Control Center's door, the tower guards would be neutralized and the bots inside the building would have destroyed the computers containing the energy beings in the cross fire of the battle.
It would be a bust.
It would require a retool.
-0-On a Wrecker high speed fighter shuttle nearby, 'End of the Line', at the same time
Topspin stood at the door with his troops. There were two teams of twelve, all of them armed to the teeth and ready to roll. Their coiled energy and snarkily amusing commentary were the outcome of vorns upon vorns of battles and skirmishes with an unrelenting, implacable enemy.
"You are go on two," the pilot said leaning out of the cockpit.
"Affirmative," the big bot said glancing back at his mechs. "Last one out is a douche bag."
The Wreckers had come to embrace the Urban Dictionary as something close to their sparks. That particular phrase was part of the lingua franca of the hard bitten mechs of special ops. Jazz who was leading the group against the 100 Decepticons who held their people in the mining camp chuckled. He felt the ship gather, turn in a tight arc and begin a silent glide downward. They leaped out in a stream landing on the ground once more at a run. By the time they had secured the camp and 'subdued' the 100 enemy they had sustained too many casualties among the captives.
It was a bust.
It would have to be reworked.
-0-On a ship monitoring the operation
The reports began to come in and they were mixed. The communication team had done their job in less time than allocated in the planning. They were tip top and that part was locked down. If there were no techs on the ground when they arrived, they would have no trouble getting things taken care of. Elita and Company were given the word that they were go.
-0-On the ground
:We have been affirmed: Elita said turning to look at her team. They sat on rocks here and there as the shattered remains of computer generated communication devices lay where they had fallen, been blasted or burned, snuffing out almost immediately after exploding.
:Good. I wonder how its going with the others?: Chromia asked. :We can move from here to there if they need us. We better get that part in with Ironhide or Alor and have it as an option:
:I'll send it: Elita said. :Ironhide, Alor:
:Ironhide here:
:Alor here:
:How about us assisting the others when we signal lock down? We're just standing here: Elita said.
A pause filled the vacuum, then Alor spoke. :I will factor that in, Elita. We can talk when we get the debrief. Right now, the other parts are still in play. Stand by:
:Affirmative: Elita said signing off. She turned to her team. :Alor is going to consider it. Everyone else is still go:
The others nodded and settled down to wait. Debrief would follow up soon along with several more run throughs of different tweaks until at last they got it down pat.
-0-At Autobot City one joor after school let out
They had taken the train to the city from Terra. Ratchet had Orion and Praxus on leashes. Hero was out there taking a nap inside Grandada Alor's carry hold. It was probably for the good. After all, war and pestilence was the family business after all Ratchet thought with a grin. Holding the reins of control, he walked the sparklings along to the stores for this and that thing before going back to the office to wait for Sunspot to finish his lesson and Ironhide to come back.
They entered the Mall of Metroplex to order dinner to be delivered, pick up more bath soap for the sparklings and the right color of paint for Hero's Autobrand. It was a gabby pair of sparklings that wandered after Ratchet into the relatively busy mall and beyond.
-0-At Autobot City Pharmacy
"Ada!"
"What, Orion?"
"What this?"
"What, Ada?" (Praxus, pointing)
"Put that down. You don't need wing salve."
"Why?"
Because."
"Oh."
Walk, walk, walk. Pause.
"Ada!"
"What, Orion?"
"What this?"
"Ada, what?" (Praxus, pointing)
"Bandages. Put that down. You don't need them."
"Okay."
Walk, walk, walk. Stop.
"Ada!"
"What, Orion?"
"What this?"
"ADA! WHAT!" (Praxus helping himself too)
"Toys. You have enough."
"No! Orion, not me!"
Walk, drag, pull, leave store.
-0-Autobot City General Food Store, Mall of Metroplex: 'The Grocery'
"Ada!"
"What, Orion?"
"What, Ada?" (Praxus, pointing as he prepared to take a lick)
"What this?"
"Energon bouillon. Put it down."
"Ada, me!" PFLT! "Oh Ada! Bad! Not me! Bad, Ada!"
"I told you, you hoodlum. Now we have to get it." (Puts mangled bouillon cubes in basket) Grin. "Serves you right."
"Ada, bad you."
Walk, walk, walk.
"Ada! What this?"
"What, Ada?" (Praxus, pointing)
"Take a bite, you little slagger. I dare ya."
Tiny blue optics stare upward at big blue optics staring down. Looks at energon powder for making poultices for sore peds for a moment. Then puts it down. Grins up at Ada. "NOT ME! I, ORION, GOOD! YOU, ADA, BAD!"
Two elderly femmes standing nearby looked at each other. "That little angel has that right," one of them said with great affront. They both glared daggers at Ratchet.
Ratchet and Company left nearly immediately after for the CMO office in Autobot City Medical Tower.
-0-TBC For Pip
2013 (2)
Note: Listening to "Try" by Pink while writing this is awesome. Try it on your own writing. It really inspires. :D It sort of feels like Optimus's theme song. :D