The Diego Diaries: Regrouping 5 (365) edited
-0-Diego Garcia, Indian Ocean, Earth
He stepped down from the shuttle feeling the warmth of the sun and the freshness of the breeze hit his dermal sensor net. It felt glorious after the frosty chill of Mars. He stood for a moment, then stepped out heading for Omega. As he did, he noted another group who had deplaned from a Globemaster. They looked new and were staring at him with the usual look that was a mixture of awe and a slight fear as he came closer to where they stood. They paused and stared upward drawn by this, their first actual real world view of a Cybertronian. Ratchet paused and looked down. "Hi. You're new here, right?"
"Does it show that much?" an older man asked with a grin.
"Gawking is the giveaway," Ratchet said with a smile. He knelt. "I am Ratchet, CMO of the Autobots and all around fix-it mech."
The older man held out his hand automatically, then looked at it with a smile. "I'm Carl Wright. I'm the new liaison for the Autobot brief."
"Ah, the new Daniels," Ratchet said with a chuckle. He held out his servo and Wright patted it. "You are the fifth one since Daniels. Apparently, Mearing eats them for breakfast."
An expression akin to cold determination appeared on Wright's face. "I won't go down easy then. I am here because of that. The State Department wants some coherence in the relationship. I have support in lots of necessary places. I want our relationship to be good and smooth, Ambassador. I don't want a repeat of the crap that happened with the others and Mearing doesn't scare me one bit."
"Ah," Ratchet said with a smile. "You may come with me. I'll let you repeat that to the relevant Autobots." He put his servo down and waited.
Wright stared at it, then got it. He smiled and walked to the servo sitting down facing out to his team. "Go settle in. I'll find you later." He smiled and laughed as Ratchet stood. Staring down, he nodded as Ratchet turned and began to walk to the behemoth that was settled nearby.
Wright's team watched, then looked at each other. "I think this assignment is going to be fucking awesome," Thomas Garvey, his chief-of-staff said with a smile.
"I think so too," Annette Faber said nodding. "I hear we get to share quarters with Mearing."
Jonathan Miller laughed. "This is going to be fun."
They gathered their things and began to walk to a smirking airman nearby leaning against an incredible concept car. They paused staring at the car, then the airman. "Hi. I'm Jon Miller. This is Annette Faber and Tom Garvey."
"I know. I'm supposed to meet you. Throw your crap in the trunk and hop in." The trunk popped and they stared at it. Taking their load and putting it inside, they climbed inside along with the airman as the trunk closed by itself. Settling into the awesome seats, they blinked when the seat belts buckled themselves. The airman, Sargent Ralph Matthews grinned back at them. Then he looked at the dashboard next to the steering wheel. "Hit it, Hot Rod."
And he did.
-0-Ratchet
He ambled along carrying Carl Wright, the human sitting comfortably as he looked around. "I appreciate the ride, Ambassador. I know you haven't been treated well in the past but I want to begin a relationship that is mutually respectful and productive. I am a friend of Warren Roberts. He suggested that I be placed here to salvage the relationship and protect it."
"Warren is a brother," Ratchet said looking at the human as he approached the open hatch of Omega. "I trust him completely."
"This is an Autobot?" Carl said as they began to go up the ramp. "This is Omega Supreme, right?"
"Correct. He is one of the largest sentient beings you may ever know. But he is not the largest. He's just among the most wonderful," Ratchet said.
A soft chuckle greeted them as they reached the top. "Greetings," a deep voice said.
"Good morning, Omega. This is Carl Wright. He's the new liaison," Ratchet replied.
"Liaison; improbable. Outcome: disreputable," Omega said in his usual cryptic manner around strangers and unknowns. The heaviness of his spark had been lifted by his return to the fold and healed by his bond with Silverbolt. His old habit of clipped speech only seemed to show up around strangers.
"Omega?" Carl ventured staring around himself for a moment. "It is an honor to meet you. I hope that the relationship I will try to make here includes your good will."
It was silent a moment. Then Omega replied. "That is mutual." He offered no more.
Ratchet grinned. "Omega is just this side of perfection. His whole family is gifted." He continued onward passing bots at stations as he reached the command deck by the flight module. Prime was sitting relaxing along with Prowl who was sipping his morning 'tea'. Ironhide was sitting on a chair hunched over a data pad oblivious to his presence. "I can see you can't wait for me to come."
They grinned and straightened, Ironhide looking up at last. "Who's that, old mech? Did you find a stray for the collection?" Ironhide asked with his intimidating face. The humor was there but sometimes humans couldn't see it. This human could.
"I hope you have a hamster wheel for me to run on if you do," Carl replied with a grin. "At my age, its all maintenance now."
Ratchet chuckled and set the human on the table that was filled with the implements of command. "Carl Wright, let me introduce you. This is Optimus Prime, bearer of the Creation Matrix, the Autobot Matrix of Leadership and Prime of the world of Cybertron."
Carl turned to him and bowed. "Optimus Prime, I am honored to meet you. My friend, Warren Roberts was correct that meeting you would be an experience of a lifetime." He held out his hand. Prime moved his servo forward and they touched.
"I am glad to meet you, Mr. Wright. Warren Roberts is a brother and friend of the Cybertronian people. We welcome you to your new position." Carl bowed again.
"This is Prowl, the Second-In-Command of the Autobot Armed Forces and bond of the Prime."
Carl bowed and touched Prowl's servo. Prowl stared at him with an expression of approval. He was obviously giving the proper respect. Maybe this one wouldn't be an asshole he considered.
To himself.
"This last mech is Ironhide, Master of the Autobot Armed Forces, personal bodyguard to the Prime and my old mech. Last but not least, he is father of many infants but this one in particular," Ratchet said opening his carry hold and extracting Prowler. The infant was in his Seeker bag, his little face the only visible part of his body. He looked with curiosity all around until he saw his father who took him gently, staring at him with emotional optics. It was then that Prowler burst into tears. His weeps were tiny but continuous. Ironhide sniffed him, then put him on his shoulder patting his little aft. "He's crying."
"He has been for a while," Ratchet said. "It took a whole day with me to get him calmed back down. Little mech missed us."
They looked at the infant who Ironhide placed on the table. His little face was scrunched up and he dripped a tear or two. Then he paused and looked at Ironhide. As he did, a huge smile appeared on his little face. Ironhide nearly slid under the table. "He feels better."
"I noticed," Ratchet said with a grin.
"I think so too," Prowl said magically slipping the infant into his own servos.
Ironhide sat looking at the empty table where a baby had just been, then looked up at Prowl with a big frown. "You are a grabby aft."
"You are a slow poke," Prowl said with a grin.
Ratchet snorted, then looked at Carl. "Welcome to life with the Autobots."
Carl was too busy grinning to reply.
-0-At the barracks
They eventually arrived skidding to a halt. The ride around the island didn't take long but it was memorable. The high speed parts were only broken in terror by the many airborne moments. They had been hurrahed into the mix at last arriving where they needed to go. The doors popped open, the seat belts withdrew and everyone sat a moment catching their breath. Climbing out, standing with weak knees and wind blown hair, they stared at Sargent Matthews with varying expressions of joy and loathing.
"Grab your gear," Matthews said. He watched as they complied moving toward him to go into the building. As they did, their car transformed until an incredibly beautiful bot with wings stood before them, a smirk on his amazingly handsome face. "Thanks, Hot Rod. I'm glad you could do us a solid."
"It was my pleasure I assure you," Hot Rod said. He was a rangy lanky bot, like a well built athletic human male who stood completely comfortably in his own skin. He had coiled power and lots of smarts. He was handsome no matter what species he was and a kick in the pants. His youth was evident and war had not dampened his personality nor his willingness to play and play hard. The slightest trace of arrogant self regard hovered over him but it was a shadow against the humor he had in abundance.
"See ya after shift," Matthews said as he gestured for the humans to proceed.
Hot Rod nodded, then transformed. He peeled out and raced off, the humans pausing to watch. Annette turned to Matthews and grinned. "You like doing that don't you," she said rather than asked.
"You have no idea," he said turning to lead the way. They entered the barracks, the door closing behind them.
-0-Fulton
John Fulton walked from the Administration Building heading for Omega. The new liaison had arrived, someone vouched for by Warren Roberts. He was anxious to meet Wright, to formulate an agreement of intention against Mearing who was the new Daniels to him. She was formidable in her goal to gather all the reins of power regarding the N.E.S.T. program and every other Autobot-related agreement and project going. She had support higher up because she produced results and wasn't afraid to get optic-to-eyeball with anyone. She was a compartmentalized bureaucrat with connections.
As he walked toward Omega, he saw Mearing standing by the Embassy, albeit on the base side of the line talking on a satellite phone. He ignored her as he passed even as he heard her call and continued onward with Major Sewell, or Major Andrew as he was called by the bots to the ramp of Omega Supreme. He heard her running to catch up but he ignored her, continuing up the ramp to go inside.
Mearing paused at the foot, considering entering no man's land, then braced herself to continue. She too disappeared inside, her aides soldiering on behind her. The breeze was soft and the sun was warm as the base continued on in her absence. No one was there to see Jolt speed by followed by Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Bluestreak was home again and the three of them would be leaving that evening. For now, they were 'patrolling'. That they had half a dozen femmes and mechs including three sailors who were just in port who were friends and family of the 'regulars' on board didn't hurt. They were happy to drag around and give them the experience of not only riding inside a sentient vehicle but of letting them know the luxury and pleasure of riding in such spectacular concepts as their formats were.
It was awesome.
It also was returning things to normal.
They didn't care.
For them, it was just fun.
-0-Inside Omega
John Fulton and Andrew Sewell were picked up by Ratchet and placed on the table. They were also scanned as was Wright, the tingling sensation drawing his attention to the big medic. Ratchet grinned. "Get used to it. I always scan everyone. Force of habit. I can see you are healing well, Andrew and John." He looked at Wright. "Your hernia operation is healed quite well."
John Fulton chuckled, then looked at Wright. "Get used to it. He will say anything."
"That's part of my charm," Ratchet said with a chuckle.
"What about me?" a voice said much lower to the ground. Mearing and two breathless heavily laden aides stared up at them.
Ratchet scanned them. "Optimal."
"Thank you," Mearing said with a slight grin. She looked at the table. "I am assuming you are Carl Wright."
"You are correct," Wright said. "You are Charlotte Mearing and Company?"
"Correct." She looked at him appraisingly.
"Well, now that introductions have been made," Ratchet said in the heavy pause, "I think we should all dance."
Chuckles all around broke the moment, then Mearing came closer. "If you would do the honors, doctor," she said.
"You're a little small for me. I might step on more than just your feet, Ms Mearing," Ratchet replied with a smirk.
"You're very funny," Mearing said with a smirk of her own.
Ratchet reached down and sat her on the table. He placed her assistants as well. Mearing stared around pausing to look up at Prowl. Prowler was resting in the crook of the big bot's arm. "Is that a baby?"
"He is," Prowl said coolly.
"How small he is," she replied entranced for a moment. The she turned to Wright. "We need to talk."
"I am presenting my credentials to the Prime," Wright said. "There will be time to talk later."
"I will hold you to it," she said nodding. "What is the status of the incursion?" she asked looking at Optimus.
He sat without speaking as Prowl smoothly deflected the question toward himself. "The status is calm. There is no activity. They have gone to ground."
"Really." She stared at him for a moment. "What does that mean?"
"They're a infiltration protocol team that came to Earth ten thousand years ago with Megatron. They were brought here to level this world and put it into the Decepticon category," Ratchet explained. "They were dormant this whole time waiting for instructions. Some of them were busy digging and tunneling, which is what Insecticons do when they're bored. They are a hive mind and will follow their leader without question. She is dormant now waiting for an opportunity. Arachnid is incredibly dangerous but she is also something most Decepticon leaders aren't. She's smart and strategic. She will wait as long as it takes for either word from Megatron or an opportunity. She won't waste her position for easy gets that might inflict set backs. She's too smart and veteran for that."
"Then this could take years?" Mearing asked.
They all nodded. It was silent a moment. "I would like to be briefed on this group and their leader. I would like to have all of the intell directed to me and I'm not asking. I have the authority to demand it. I would like you all to understand that I am assuming control of this operation and I have the backing of my government to do so."
"You do not have the backing of mine," Prime said quietly. "You are not a soldier nor do you have experience at war and fighting an enemy this ruthless. Without our support, you would have had to face this enemy alone. You are not equipped to do that. Therefore, you will receive from this government that which is beneficial for you to know. It will be for me to decide what and how extensive that information will be."
"You would withhold information from us?" Mearing said with outrage.
"You withheld information about us with a lie. Your government said that we were told all that you knew," Prime said leaning in closer. She didn't back down. "You were not forthcoming on your end. You withheld the lunar crash site and all of the information you took from it. Now a mole is lose and humans are getting access to things that do not belong to them. All of our demands for that information and material to be returned to us have been ignored. Your outrage is misplaced, Ms Mearing. You would do well to remember that." He sat back regarding her levelly.
She met his gaze as well. "We can work together. Our goals are the same," she replied tersely.
"But our methods aren't," Prowl replied. "You lie. We don't. Big difference."
She looked at Prowl, then stared at the ground. "Ambassador, if you would be so good?" She turned and glanced at Wright. "We need to talk." Then she and her aides took the ride down. It was a moment before they exited Omega.
Ironhide glanced at Prime. "I don't like her one bit."
Wright sighed, then glanced at Ironhide with a grin. "I hear ya. I have to share barracks with her."
"Oh slag," Ironhide said with heartfelt sympathy. It was met with agreement by everyone present.
Prowler on the other servo was dozing.
In Prowl's arms.
Much to Ironhide's everlasting angst.
And Ratchet's great amusement.
-0-TBC July 14, 2013 (Happy Birthday, Daddy and Josh. My nephew was born on my dad's birthday fifty years apart. Happy Bastille Day, France! VIVA LA FRANCE!)
NOTES: Envy, I am hugging you across time and space. Horus... That cat must have been that end of the awesome scale. I am honored to help you when you are down. The readers of this story are my heroes. I have readers who are in hospitals, have lost parents, pets and have tough things happen. Some are in school feeling the pressure to excel and get things done. I even have an entire equestrian school reading. There are soldiers from all over the world, people in far flung places who read this and some for whom English is a second language. I am so honored to be a part of my reader's life and help them find a world that they can come to and find relaxation, entertainment and peace. You did the best thing you could do for your baby. I have lost both parents and five dogs (eighteen year old dachshunds) over the course of the last seven years and I can tell you truthfully 'after the rain, the birds sing'. You will find time is your friend and you will be happy again even if it feels completely impossible now. Be good to yourself. I am so pleased you are here. {{{HUGS!}}}, envy and {{{HUGS!}}} to all who need it out there in the great big world. I love you all. -Old What's Her Face ;)
-0-
MORE NOTES: Insecticons: There was concept art of six combining into a six legged monster to be called the Hive. The tiny fly-sized robot in Revenge of The Fallen was an insecticon. Sam pulled him apart. The games pose them as pests who are only dangerous and effective when they come together to form the Hive which is what they are in Transformers: Prime when they are together either in repose or in flight/fight.
Denizens of the under levels of Cybertron, the Insecticons live in destructive swarms. Ravenous and aggressive, Insecticons can digest 95% of known matter, reshaping their findings into enormous subterrannean hives. Existing as a near hive mind, they represent a deadly and invaluable resource for those willing to find a way to tame them.
Insecticons have the unique ability to clone themselves, but each successive clone is inferior to its progenitor, leading to increasingly bestial creatures. Three members of the species stand out as being fully sentient individuals, with the ability to assume bipedal robot modes. Far more difficult to manipulate, they require coercion rather than control, and may represent the original members of their race.
These four have been named: Hardshell, Sharpshot, Kickback, Bombshell. Sharpshot is the leader but another, Venom is given overall command of the bugs in most universes. -Thank you, TFWIKI. :D :D