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

302. Chapter 302

The Diego Diaries: Week end. (dd3 302)

-0-That evening

A rap on the door was answered by Bluestreak. "Hey," he said with a smile. "Are you coming to the party?" he asked.

"We came bearing gifts," Springer said as he entered the room. Drift followed, then Smokey, his bright optics looking around the room. He spotted his grandfather and grinned.

"This is Hot Rod, Blurr, Kup, Tracks," Springer said introducing Smokey to the bots sitting around the living room. "That is Lon, Splice, Topspin, Sandstorm, Whirlaway and that bot," he said nodding to the grinning mech at the table, "I believe is your grandpa."

Smokey grinned and nodded. "He is."

"Did you come to play?" Smokescreen asked.

"We're on duty. We work this weekend, we get the game orns off," Drift said.

"Sounds good," Bluestreak said. "If we're still going when you get off, come back by."

"You got it," Springer said as he walked to the door. "See ya," he said as Drift followed him out. The door closed, then Smokey turned to the bots in the room. "This is amazing. I've studied everyone in this room."

Smiles and chuckles greeted that as Bluestreak handed the youngling a cold brew. He took it and walked to stand behind Smokescreen. "Nice hand. Are you winning?"

"Do you have to ask?" Smokescreen said with a smirk. Scorn met that as a new hand was dealt.

"What is that?" Smokey asked as he glanced toward the window. Dawg was laying in recharge. He was on his back, his belly showing and his tongue lolling out.

"That is one of the great wonders of the world, youngling," Kup solemnly said as the others nodded. "That is Dawg."

Smokey walked to it and knelt, touching the belly of the beast. He grinned. "This is awesome. He has Wrecker and Autobot tattoos."

"He wrecks AND rules," Sideswipe said as he antied up.

"No doubt," Smokey said as he stood back up. He looked at the bots around the table. "You're the twins. Amazing. I read everything you ever did. Jet judo with Starscream and his trine. All of it."

Sideswipe smiled and Sunstreaker grinned. "Pull up a chair and sit next to me, kid," Sunny said to the general amusement of the crowd.

He did.

-0-The season finale of Platoon

Ratchet turned up the sound as Ironhide tucked in the last little bot. The final episode of season one was about to air so they hurriedly put the infants to bed deferring clean up of their myriad toys until the next orn. Walking out to park his carcass, Ironhide settled as the opening sequence of the show began. The camera lingered over the moody bots as their names and other data flashed on in Cybertronian, then English. Then it faded along with the music.

(Cut to airfield. A reclamation is going on)

(Bots were standing around the perimeter of the vast reclamation space where dozens of stations were handling the processing of thousands of individuals who stood in lines with civilians who already lived in the city. There was chatter, the crying of infants, the odd adult outburst but mostly it was orderly. A family stands before a bot who is taking their information)

"Were any of you separated on or lived on Cybertron itself?" (A data clerk asks as he works at a computer on his table top)

"We did, my bond and me. The infants were separated in refugee camps. We were living in New Cybertron until the pirates came."

(The clerk nods, his fingers flying) "What ages are your babies?"

"Our oldest is a sub youngling and the other two are sparklings."

"You will be required to send them to school when you settle. We'll have information on that process on the community bulletin board. You'll find it on the monitor in your apartment when you get settled," they were told. (Clerk looks up and smiles)

(They nodded with awe on their faces) "That's what we've been told while we were waiting in line. I'm struggling to believe it." (The others with him nod.)

"Everyone does at first. You'll get used to this. There are processor health personnel to help you if you need them. You can request it if you need it."

(They nod solemnly. Their guide smiles)

"What sorts of skills do you have that might be something you can do if you choose to?"

(They look at each other. Then the mech who was their group spokesman answered) "We're laborers."

"Out there. You can be whatever you choose to do if you want to work for it here. We have a university and adult education to allow you to study and catch up on your education. I'll put laborer on the data form but your guide will explain the rest. Right, Jan-e?"

(A femme grins and nods.) "That's the best part of this."

(The clerk looks at the screen, then at Jan-e) "I will transmit their housing and other details to you, Jan-e. I think they can go now. Welcome to Autobot City," (He said smiling at the newbies)

(They look at him, then nod following Jan-e with a slight air of shock and disconnect about them as they went. It was typical. Then another small group steps up and the bot continues)

(Cut to the airfield and a tense group waiting for someone)

(A group had gathered, all of them with beautiful paint schemes. They were waiting with agitation for someone to arrive. Camera cuts to the direction of the Fortress and a calm looking Prowl who is walking to the airfield. He arrives and the group crowds around him.)

"We're glad you're here, Prowl. We find the situation before us intolerable," one said, apparently the leader of the group.

"How so. Please specify," the winger replies in a manner that would invite comparisons to Mr. Spock in the blogosphere the very next day on Earth.

"We were told that there would be no accommodation made for our status and that we would be living in mixed housing. They said that we would have to apply for work, that we would not be allowed to hold positions that were commensurate with our efforts on Cybertron. We were told that caste housing distinctions didn't apply here. We' re astounded at this sort of news and would like you to explain to the officials managing this situation how this cannot stand."

(Cut to winger who is having an internal moment that doesn't show up on his face. Around him, armed guards watch with amusement as strained refugees stare, some with gathering alarm, something that Prowl is noticing around him. It's obvious that this is a minority opinion seeking to assert itself.)

(Prowl replies.) "You will find that there are no caste distinctions here. Optimus Prime has banned the System. It's no longer a part of our culture and national life. In fact, expecting it will get you jailed. You are allowed to recuperate and enjoy learning about the city, what it offers as well as sightseeing. When a few orns pass, then you will be expected to do so if you are able to work. We have citizens who are disabled or elderly. They don't have to work. We care for them because they're ours. All of them. However, if you're able bodied you're expected to work. Your infants and younglings are required to go to school with everyone else. There are no exceptions and absolutely no distinctions."

(Cut to group for whom this is not acceptable and they express it, mostly through the commentary of their spokesman, Burris)

"Prowl, you're a high caste. You understand what we're saying. Surely, you don't mean to imply that the city is wide open and the rules that made our people and culture great are no longer applied?"

"I do." (Prowl responds coldly) "The rules you insist upon keeping alive have been responsible for our near extinction. I cannot stress enough that you will be jailed if you try to assert even one of the System's rules."

(Momentary shock as they glance at each other, then bull necked doubling down) "We would like to speak with the Prime."

(Winger through tone, though calm doubles down himself) "He's with the reclamation. I'm his designated spokesmech and I've told you what the rules and regulations are. Everyone here matters equally. If you go somewhere and quietly contemplate that notion and the idea that Primus Himself said all are one, it might help you assimilate the new reality much easier. I would suggest the Temple."

(Burris and group glance at each other, then frown at Prowl.) "We expect to see the Prime. We would like to make an appointment."

(Outwardly nonplussed winger) "Go to the Community Bulletin Board and look at the Office of the Primes folder. There will be an electronic form for you to request an audience. Right now, that will be held in abeyance. He is quite busy saving our species from the stupidity and hatred of the past." (He looks at all of them coldly) "Are there any more questions?"

(Momentary pause as both sides look at each other glacially)

(Highly polished bot, Burris, steps closer and glares at S.I.C) "No. It would be well advised for you to know that there are a lot of us here, Prowl. I am sure others are as well. We will not be discounted or put aside."

(Winger's wings rise higher and a faint trace of irritation appears on face, then fades) "There are many more who would disagree. We have plenty of brig space for troublemakers. I'm assuming that you just made a threat."

"I made a promise." (Burris tenses, leans slightly forward as he speaks.)

(Momentary silence, then winger gestures to a nearby guard to come forward) "Please take this mech to the brig. He has made a threat against the peace of the city."(Nods toward Burris)

(Burris and others jolt, then look shocked.) "Surely you're joking."

(Glacial stare and low tone greets that.) "Surely you have forgotten. I'm Prowl. I don't have a sense of humor."

(Guards grab Burris and drag him off screaming as all watch. Prowl looks at the rest who remain silent. Then he turns to walk back to the Fortress. No one filming or watching is aware that the entire moment was sent to the command ships and Fort Apache by Prowl to serve as witnesses. The entire Autobot Senior Staff are laughing their butts off at that moment.)

(Cut to ship scene out in the migration. Epps and Graham are looking out the side of their safety cube over the shoulder of a big bot who's the pilot)

:Look at the migration. It goes on forever. How many does this migration have, Revo?: (an off camera Lennox asks as he films)

:We're not quite sure but we're expecting and have planned for half a million bots: he replies.

:You have this down pat. If this was happening on Earth among the humans it would be a catastrophe: (Graham replied as they watched thousands of ships fly into the space bridge to disappear.) :The space bridges are awesome. I heard they were Autobot technology:

:They are: (Big grin on face of former 'Con.) :Slagging Autobots:

(Graham walks closer to lean on the glass) :How do you really get along with the Autobots?:

(Moment of silence) :We do fine. We still have our moments. Slagging Autobots is meant as affection: (Grin on normally serious solemn face)

:Hurts to lose the war?: (Off camera voice of Lennox ventures)

(Big mech shrugs) :All of us lost the moment the first shot was fired. We don't have any other home but here. Prime keeps his word. Tell me the name of one of your own politicians who does that? He's the leader, the one who bears the Matrix. That makes a lot of slag right:

(Ships flashed past going into the migration and they pass Seekers. The conversation ends as the humans stare out at the spectacle beyond their ship)

(Cut to a medical ship. CMO Ratchet is working feverishly with other doctors doing heavy duty surgery)

:Ratchet, how are you doing?: (Off screen voice of Jessie Landon is heard)

"Getting there. You?" (Big bot looks up and grins)

:I'm okay:

"I can get you out of here, Jessie, if you need it. No harm, no foul."

:I know:

(A number of traumas come and go and the clock ticks onward. Cut to scene in doorway of ship. It's obvious from the film that Jessie is sitting on Ratchet's servo. A stretcher precedes them out the door, then Ratchet steps out and they both begin to float over.)

(Shots that follow in disjointed motions from unsteady camera, Jessie's camera...

(The migration is seen but it's a smear of light across a long horizon line, a bulge in the middle more of an optical illusion than anything else. A line of ships forming up nearby before the space bridge were like a string of emergency vehicles on a night time run on Earth. The camera swings back and takes in the vast size of Kappa, whose hatch is open as bots come and go. Omega is nearby, himself a lighted behemoth like Kappa. Runabouts buzz here and there as Seekers fly about. Bots float through space between them, some towed, others flying on their own.)

(In the chaos is organization. Masterful organization. Jessie reaches a ship stepping off the giant hand that can be seen around the edges of her recordings. She looks back and Ratchet is seen floating. He smiles and waves, then pushes off heading back to the light flooded doorway of Kappa. The hatch door of Jessie's ship closes and the scene fades)

(Cut to a group of soldiers at the massive airfield in the city including many of the bots from Platoon. They're watching as massive ships settle down and taxi to hangars where bots swarm them)

:What's going on here?: (off camera voice asks)

"Beta and Alpha Supreme have arrived from the migration and are being tended to," Nitro said glancing down at the segway crew.

:They look just like Omega and the others. How many are there?: -voice

"At one time, over twenty, maybe closer to thirty. We don't know how many are still alive. We thought Kappa was dead." -Nitro

:Those ships are sentient?: -voice

(nod) "They are. They're very happy. Can you feel it?" (Stares down)

:I think I do: -voice

(Nitro nods) "They haven't seen each other in nine million Terran years. It is a happy thing to see them."

:I think that would be an understatement: -voice

(Nitro looks down) "Yeah. I imagine it is."

-0-In a trine apartment

They pause to refresh drinks and snack trays while a commercial break plays. During the commercial breaks on the main download broadcast, the Community Bulletin Board plays announcements on Autobot City screens and the weather is displayed. No commercials are allowed to play on IntraComm.

Smokey looked at his grandfather and shook his helm. "This is awesome."

Smokescreen grinned. "It is."

"Wait until Grandada gets here on the next one or two," Smokey said smirking at his grandpa. "Amma is going to kick your aft."

Smokescreen smirked. "He will, the slagger."

"You'll deserve it, too. Have you dumped all your mechs?" Smokey asked as the others smirked at Smokescreen's discomfort.

"I've behaved for a long, long time, grandson. You might want to tell your Grandada that."

"I'm going to be too busy watching the fun," Smokey said with a chuckle. He squeezed his grandfather's arm. Then the program came back on and everyone turned to watch.

-0-TBC 05-13-2013 edited 8-5-18