The Diego Diaries Part 3

by arctapus

This is the story of Ratchet and Ironhide's prank war which goes global and intergalactic. It is essentially a humorous/dramatic love story. This is the third part because the second part is giving me fits for uploading just like part one. (It is currently in Part Eight) I love my readers. :D

259. Chapter 259

The Diego Diaries: Shadow Box Returns (259) edited for boo boos :D

-0-Out in the mix

They worked hard, the Autobots and civilians attached to their mission. Many of the doctors were gathered from previous migrations and a lot of them were either students in the University or recent graduates. Some of them had opened private practices together working with the civilian population to provide excellent medical care that included home visits. The payoff for them was the personal satisfaction that led them to do this spin off to the great care Autobot Nation provided to everyone. There were civilians who had never seen a doctor in their lives who had their own 'personal physician' now.

Ratchet walked to the door of Kappa and looked out noting that the lights that once loomed so large on the horizon were greatly diminished. :Prowler:

"What?:

Ratchet grinned at the abrupt sound of the winger. :Who bit your fan belt?:

:Everyone:

:Oh. How many are we at now?:

Pause. :We just passed 510,000 on the data ticker:

:Frag. That's amazing. Its a lot darker out here I will say. How are you holding up? I hear fraggers are hip deep back there:

:I'm doing fine. I doubt the slagger in the brig feels the same way:

:Who is it? Anyone I know?:

:Burris. That multifaceted aft helm from Praxus. My genitors used to go to parties at his place. The kind of soirees that made you want to kill yourself, all booze and backstabbing. I think it made them feel decadent:

Ratchet felt Prowl's smirk over the line. :Awesome. I will have to get details. How much longer do you project before we close the hole? We're getting very few patients now. At least in critical care here on Kappa:

Pause. :We project three orns give or take a breem or two. They are really speeding through. I am recalling the Guardians to come and move ships. We're getting buried here even with the allotted expansions for them:

:Good. Since we're that close, I will comm off. Someone is coming over. Ratchet out:

He turned and looked out the doorway at a big strapping mech floating over with a tiny mech in his arms. The little mech looked stricken. They entered and Ratchet directed the bot to lay him on the med berth Ratchet had used for three orns. He did and Ratchet checked him over. Turning to the big mech who looked paralyzed with fear, he patted his arm. "There was a processor failure," Ratchet said gently. The big mech looked faint so Ratchet helped him sit down. He rubbed the mech's back gently until he could get his attention. "This little mech? Are you related?"

He nodded around tears and overwhelming fear. "This is my Ada."

Ratchet nodded. "I can fix what has happened. The processor failure is not life threatening. But there may be a small amount of data loss. Its not catastrophic nor is it cascading. I will take care of it now and you will have to give him lots of care. He will also need rehabilitation while the new stuff integrates into his processor. He will have a weak side, probably his left. That may impair speech for a few orns but he will recover nearly completely from both affects. Do you understand?"

He nodded. "You tell us what to do and we will do it. He's worked so hard and had so little, I was afraid he would die before we could get here. Then he keeled over just like that."

"He's pretty worn out. But you're in luck. You have two of the best processor doctors ever to come out of Cybertron right here," he said calling to Goldwing. "Just sit and drink some energon while we fix your little Ada," Ratchet said nodding to Breakdown. That bot got the energon. Ratchet and Goldwing bent over the little mech to save his life and his big strapping son sat crying, his energon forgotten in his servo.

They would save him, repairing the Cybertronian version of a stroke and after three months of rest and rehabilitation as his four sons and anxious bond went the extra mile for him, he would recover beautifully.

-0-Nearby

Prime and his team sat quietly monitoring the sector where Paragon and now the battle group with Hydro were holed up. Echoes from beyond their location were beginning to sound as they extended their sensor net out into the galaxy. More Decepticon battle groups were out there and they appeared to be coming this way. It would be an agenda item on the list for the next meeting once the civilians finished their parts and left. Right now, the tangible was their focus and they chatted together about the problems ahead.

"So far, 122 possible delinquents are in the jail annex out at the prison," Ironhide said as he analyzed the latest data. "They run the gamut from hot helmed troublemaker to criminal element. Some of them ran amok in their colonies, the locals unable to do anything about it they were so awful. We had a lot of referrals by the refugees themselves.

"There are at least 1,250 high castes in this group, the leader of which, Burris is in the brig. Vector 1 is the location almost all of them come from and we're gathering names of those who can tell us about it. Apparently, the low and mid castes there lived in virtual slavery. They were worked hard, fed little and had a really rough life. Some of the few we have identified have signs of abuse. Most of them so far are paralyzed with fear about saying anything."

Prime nodded, his expression one of controlled fury. "They will push this to the end and I will be there waiting," he said quietly. "Jazz."

The mech looked up and back at Prime from the intel station where he sat compiling data for later perusal by Elita and him. "Prime?"

"I want this group and Vector 1 to be your full time job. Have Mirage and Elita on board. I want to know if there are offenses that need prosecution."

"They will say you have no jurisdiction on off world colonies, Optimus," Jazz said nodding.

"I am the Prime of Cybertron. Wherever my people are, I am there too. What they did or didn't do on an off world colony is still my business and the law expects me to protect our people and find justice for their hurts," Optimus said firmly. "Wherever I am, Cybertron is and that applies to all our people everywhere. As long as I bear the Matrix, I bear the responsibility."

Jazz nodded. "I will get on it right away. I'll also have a meet up with Barron and Blackstone."

Prime nodded. "By the book, Jazz. We aren't the old Cybertron anymore."

"Tell them that," Ironhide said with a tone of disgust. "It should be noted that the preliminary data shows that none of those self identified as high caste appear to have needed more than minimal medical attention." He looked at Jazz. "Get with Ratchet and have them identify all of the mechs and femmes from Vector 1 and other places heavily high caste. Check out the low and mid castes from the same places for health and vitality against those who are high. I don't think it will take a wise mech to find a pattern there."

Jazz nodded grimly. "I will."

-0-At the Prime Residence

Tagg sat in a comfortable chair watching the unfolding story on IntraComm channel 9. Kestrel had tried to help Ravel and Tie Down fix dinner but were over ruled. Sitting in a chair watching them move about the kitchen fixing the meal ordered out, he chatted. "I am so unused to such good food, Ravel. This is a wonder. This apartment is too."

"I know. You will get better, Kestrel. I am still thinking I can't get Tie his favorite candy because only high castes could afford it. It really seems unseemly to even ask." Ravel looked at Kestrel. "I talked to a nice doctor named Jarro for a while. So did Tie. Maybe they can help you with the anxiety. I had more anxiety before but its getting better. He's such a nice young mech."

Kestrel nodded. "Perhaps that would help. We don't want to be a burden to Orion."

"You aren't a burden, Kestrel. You and Tagg were so missed. When all of us began to come back, Optimus was always left out. I know he's overjoyed to have you here," Tie said. He walked to the table and sat brimming plates down. Ravel brought drinks. Tie walked to Tagg and helped him up, the two creeping slowly to the table to dine. They all sat and talked about their younglings, the city and their happiness. The sound of the reclamation played on across the screen of the living room monitor.

-0-On the sites of reclamation, Autobot City, Mars

They came in under the lights as night began to settle on the second orn of their effort. The lines were healthier now and had the benefit of having energized on their ships. Those were parked as far as the optic could see. But now Zeta and Gamma were here to help move them. Beta and Alpha stayed in flight mode as they sat parked near the big hangar that was the hospital and medic station for the big ships. They were covered in mechanics and techs who were analyzing the situation under Goldwing's direction. He had flown back with the little mech with the processor failure and his anxious family. After installing him in the hospital and assigning his family an aide, he turned to the big ships that needed his specialized care.

Astrotrain and the Aerialbots stood by watching as the newly recovered siblings of the resident behemoths got a physical. It would take a lot of work to heal all their hurts, wounds and neglect. It would take time for them to be flight ready but when they were they would gleam like glass, their white repaint and brilliant Autobrand proclaiming their quality. Until then, they would submit to care under the watchful optics of every big ship that lived and worked on Mars.

Including the redoubtable Metroplex.

-0-Out there

Ratchet sat with a piece of candy in his servo as the remaining ships of the migration began to form into long lines. They were coming up on mid morning on Mars as the final stages of the reclamation began to form. It was almost too much to hope for that he would last this long as the count stood at 559,273 all told. It was staggering. He had nearly lost his shit pulling the shift for the last big migration and its 477,000 mechs and femmes. This one was only a smidge bigger but seemed to last forever.

Now it was nearing an end. The word from home was great. The city had been awesome in their efforts as well and had assimilated everyone who had come through. Some were brigged, some were bitching but the masses were almost desperate with gratitude and surprise. They had come to an authentic Cybertronian city, not a hastily created refugee center, a dusty amenity-free colony or an army base with refugee barracks. They had found accommodations fit for kings and work that they had a hand in choosing. Their infants would have school. They could have school and their hurts were being mended by real doctors and not the slum healers that everyone on Cybertron without a shanix used to stay alive and functional.

He himself had gotten the interest in medicine living next door to one. The poverty stricken would come to his home and get treated as best they could with the few resources he had. He was kind and decent, took nothing for his efforts and never sent anyone away without trying. He was a Primus blessed mech and someone who always seemed to surface in Ratchet's processor when he thought he couldn't take one more ravaged body in servo.

:Ironhide to Ratchet:

:Hey:

:Hey. How are you?:

:We're both okay. You?:

:Could use a berth, a bowl of something and a good frag:

:Well, I can get you two of them. I will leave it up to you which I can't manage right now. You know how I am about cooking:

An immense well of love rose through the bond and Ratchet reciprocated.

:How many more orns?:

:I am assuming you are thinking about the sparkling:

:I am:

:Seven if all goes as scheduled:

:What do you mean, Ratchet?:

:I could separate early or not. This is the FOURTH ONE!:

A chuckle made it over the link. :Broke the mech mold, I did. Could give lessons:

:You could. You are that end of the scale: (Grin)

(Smug grin) :I am aren't I?:

:Won't get an argument out of me, Only One: (Grin)

:Is this some of that phone sex?:

:It is if you tell me about your aft. I only have vague memories of its heft:

(HUGE grin) :There are cranes out there without the oomph to lift this fine old aft:

:So you're saying you're a fat aft?: (grin)

Pause. :Let me rephrase that, Ratchet)

They continued onward for the time it took for the last ships to leave the area.

-0-At the airfield by the Fortress

Prowl stood waiting for Omega and Kappa to return. They would come last after detouring to Fort Apache to check in with Blackjack, Flint and Alor. He had spent all three orns at the Ops Center with side trips to check on Kestrel and Tagg. They were able to move better and were incredibly sweet and concerned about his time taking care of them.

"You have so much to do, Prowl," Kestrel would say. "We don't want you to think you have to stop in. You need to use your moments to see the infants. We have such good companions with Tie Down and Ravel."

Tagg would nod and Prowl would love them all over again. "I am here for you. You belong to us now, all of us. Optimus is so happy that you are here and so am I. I am so happy to take care of you."

They would visit and he would leave after exhausting all of the things he could do for them and Ratchet's genitors. A short trip to the schools would suffice until they all stood down in a few joors. Until then, he stood on the tarmac and waited.

-0-Kappa

She came through the gate with a few patients from Fort Apache and descended through the bright sunlit mid morning skies to the airfield. The sight below was stupendous. Ships were everywhere. Trucks hauled off tagged and bagged belongings to storage until they could be returned to their owners. Databases and other objects were taken from ships that wore the blue X meaning they would be scrapped. Databases, books and objets de art were taken on loan for the Museum and its History Project to scan, copy and photograph before being returned. Many refugees donated the items for display and use in the name of the common good.

Landing gently, the doors opened and the last patients were taken off to a runabout. Ratchet and his team stepped off wearily taking their leave of each other. Walking slowly to where Prowl stood, he turned to watch as the mass of Omega came into view. "It never gets old."

Prowl snorted. He looked at Ratchet with a grin. "No. It never does."

-0-TBC

2013 (4) I am now using a new computer with a touch screen. HUZZAH! No more struggling with my Acer cutie pie. However, all of my 32 bit software doesn't run on my 64 bit computer. RIP OFF! LOL! It will serve me right. :D :D :D