The Diego Diaries: Home At Last (374) NOTE: Something 'going full bore' is something that is going on as fast as possible. Eating full bore is pigging out. Driving full bore is speeding. Its a regional figure of speech. :D edited
-0-Around the city
Drift walked from the berthroom to the monitor to check out the messages missed. There were invites to poker games, the usual slew of off colored jokes and cartoons that mechs-at-arms sent to each other, some of them including Prowl and a few updates from the troops. Then he opened his own and saw pretty much the same. Springer walked out, a nice shine to his armor from his usual long leisurely shower. This morning he took one alone. "Any news?"
"The usual. Apparently, you are pretty popular," Drift said with a smirk.
"To know me is to love me, baby," Springer said with a smirk of his own.
They bantered, then stepped out to take their meal at the usual place … anywhere but their own kitchen.
-0-On the way home
Hot Rod, Jolt and Smokey sat staring at the human in their midst, 'the lady who didn't like them' as she was known among the younger Home Guard set. It puzzled them because she 'didn't like them' even though she spent almost zero time among them. For two of the three watching her, with their greater experience with aliens and different sensibilities, there was no puzzlement. There was only scorn.
:Puny little thing isn't she: -Hot Rod (HR)
:Their femmes are smaller: -Jolt (J)
:They look sort of squishy: -Smokey (S) (He of the little experience but huge interest)
:They're tougher than they look: -HR
:She's got a 'stick up her aft' or so Ironhide says: -J
Grins-All three
She stared at them uncertainly, then managed a grin.
:She thinks we're grinning at her like we like her: -S
:You're really a youngling aren't you, Smokey?: -HR
:I'm old enough: (Pointed stare at big handsome triple changer) :Besides, I was in the Elite Guard. That's no small change:
:I don't think so: -HR
:What? That its small change whatever that means or what?: -J with a smirk
(Jab to gut from S who is having a slow burn. They all look at human female who is staring at them with a jaundiced optic)
:I think she thinks we're going to wrestle or something: -J
:I wouldn't mind: -HR
(Two bots look at HR with a jaundiced optic of their own) :Anyone in particular in mind?: -J and S
:I don't know: (Sits back with a satisfied smirk of his own) :Hmmmm … Smokey first, you second. Actually, I don't want to be electricuted in the berth. How about you, Smokescreen?:
(All optics turn to suddenly impossibly young Elite Guardsmech who returns the stare with an impossible look of his own, one full of front but no back if you know what I mean and the Urban Dictionary will be your friend. Then he gathered his gears and affected a relaxed look of satisfied bullshit of his own. And fails slightly. Because he's young and still needs a few rounds with the old front lines to run with the big bots.) :Get in line:
(Internal bullshit takes over as they howl at the youngling with the smug smirk. Leaning back, punching each other, glancing up and down the seating row, they miss the frown of the human watching)
:'Get in line': HR with a smirk and a chuckle. :You are as full of slag as your grandatar:
:Dream on: -S with a grin and a delight to have bested his olders with his slag. For once.
They all looked at Mearing. She looked at them. They grinned. She grinned. She had no idea.
-0-On the ground at last
They walked off, their gear in servo. Behind them gathering her nerve, Charlotte Mearing stepped forward and looked out of the hatch of the sentient ship she was riding in. A busy vista greeted her. The sky was reasonably blue as the sandstorm problem began to become history due to the genius of Sciences. Before her, things were going on.
Small vehicles went here and there to service ships and Seekers that were either coming or going on business. Enormous ships were being loaded or unloaded as bots of all manner, size and shape worked making it so. The blur of color and the swiftness of the maneuvering around piles and containers of who knew what was dizzying as were the vistas beyond of high rise buildings glittering in the sunlight. Among them speeding along on segways were filmmakers and soldiers of N.E.S.T.
She stood on the ramp, then walked down pausing at the bottom. She stared at the tarmac. She considered her high powered family of high achieving siblings and parents with great expectations, then knew she had them all beaten. She was going to be stepping on a new world and they weren't.
She did. She stepped down and paused expecting to feel different but she didn't. The weird panorama rolled on around her but she wasn't changed. It was perplexing. Then she saw a segway pull up driven by 'Fig' Figueroa. "Hey. Hop on."
She looked at him, the picked up her bags. Walking up, she clambered on and screamed all the way to N.E.S.T. HQ in the habitat north of the airfield as he zigged and zagged through the maze and around ships.
-0-Moments later
She stood in the airlock, her frown evident. He stood next to her with a grin and a jaunty look. Fig had given her the expedited ride to their new habitat as per orders and as they waited for the pressurization to complete, he waited for her to speak. She didn't. She was too pissed. She had dropped a bag and its contents had spilled. Turning back, she had fumbled around picking it up because her 110 pounds on earth weighed only 22 on Mars.
After gathering her stuff and clambering back on board, she hung on and they arrived driving into the open end of the airlock that allowed entrance to the main one. The open end was always opened to allow segways and such to come in and out without waiting. Once inside, they waited as the inner airlock opened and allowed them to come into the pressurization module.
Segways could be parked as they waited for the pressure to come back to the module. When they waited, they felt themselves being pressed down as the lower gravity rose to that of Earth. It felt heavy and dense the first few times but one got used to the process after a while. She was feeling shorter as the gravity rose in intensity. When 14.7 psi was achieved the door to the habitat began to open. It slid past relatively swiftly opening onto a recreational room that rivaled the bots.
Having come to a design plan that incorporated the best of all worlds , they paused to look. It was just about a carbon copy of any bot ops center you would care to see. The rec room was bounded by the entrances to a medical bay, the control center and a corridor in the middle of the back section led both up and down to other levels. Signs were over the doorways of Ops Center and the Medical Bay. The light overhead streamed in and it felt like an atrium in a garden. The place was light, the colors soothing and the furnishings comfortable.
She stared at the décor, then looked at Fig. He was waiting as she took in the area. "Come with me," he said simply. Then he walked out heading for the corridor beyond. She looked at him, then followed.
-0-Ops Center
"She's here."
Prime nodded. "Make her wait, Prowl."
(grin) "Yes, sir."
(grin) -Prime
-0-Elsewhere
"Ada?"
"What, infant?"
"I need a new bunny thing."
Ratchet looked down and grinned. She held up a very dirty cue tip bunny buster. He took it and handed her another from a stash on his desk. She turned and hurried over to the corner where a particularly nasty spot was mocking her efforts.
"When are you going back?" Ironhide asked as he lounged on the couch, Prowler lying on his chassis in deep recharge.
"Well, I came over and he said, "Make her wait, Prowl" so I came back. He's going to ping me," Ratchet said watching as Hero worked on the spot nearby. She paused, then glanced at Ratchet's ped. Turning, she began to rub it with her dust buster. Ratchet grinned. It tickled. She tickled him with her cuteness and he was getting a spot removed now rather than later in the shower. Life was good.
-0-At a house in the clouds
Smokey walked into his genitor's apartment in Phobos. He was staying with them for a bit until his tower in Crystal City was finished. It was in a big expansion of housing towers for bachelors, most of which were soldiers.
He walked to his room and dropped his stuff, putting his guns into the closet. Stepping out, he noted his parents weren't there. Walking to the monitor, he checked for messages.
TO: Smokey
FROM: Ada
There is food in the fridge, son. We will be a little late home tonight. I have a staff meeting and your atar will be at the club. Love you, Ada.
Smokey grinned. His father was a member of a group of accountants that had banded together to socialize. He had gone to a dinner with several at his father's invitation and nearly slid under the table from boredom. His father was a sweet and relatively lively mech who loved a quieter life than his own atar had given him.
Smokescreen had been a gambler on Cybertron who had lived on the edge of oblivion and prison but had always skated because he was smarter than the system. That had given him the streak of arrogance that he possessed. That is, he possessed it when his bond wasn't around. Devcon was a very good sparked and decent mech. He was extremely well liked and respected for what he could do. No one ever escaped Dev when he got on the trail.
Dev was specially constructed to be able to last longer than any of his targets and he was armed out the wazoo. What Dev didn't know about tracking wasn't important. That Dev was about as handsome a bot as anyone had ever seen didn't hurt. The Gambler and the Bounty Hunter had been Autobots as well when they hooked up and sparked a son that they both adored.
Dev had made sure their son had stability and a good education. No one said no when he put his son into schools. No one dared. What Dev didn't know about everyone and everything didn't matter. His son had graduated public schools and university becoming an accountant almost in self defense even though his atar was low caste and his ada was mid. Even with a genitor in a mid caste, Smokescreen's caste insured that their son would not go to schools. Devcon insured that he would.
And he did.
Now they were here, the son and his bond along with the grandson. For both Dev and Smokescreen, it didn't get any better. Their home was in a tower in 'The City' as Autobot City was referred. They had picked up where they had left off and had become over the distance of their bond remarkably companionable and comfortable. It did Smokey a great deal of good to see it.
Walking to the door, he stepped out and headed for the elevator. Things were going on at the dojo and he wanted to be there. There was a lot to learn about being a good warrior and that was the place to go to do it. The elevator door closed on him and he disappeared into his orn.
-0-Ops Center
Prime sat at his table for a moment, then rose and glanced at Prowl. "I'm going over. Will you call Ratchet?"
Prowl nodded and turned signaling the medic to come to a changed location. Prowl watched as Prime exited the room, then glanced at the sensors nearby. Something was lurking out there and they were scrambling Seekers to do a fly by. In short, it was another orn in the life.
-0-N.E.S.T. Habitat, Autobot City, Mars
Ratchet reached the habitat before Prime though he could see the big mech walking his way through breaks in the line up of ships on the airfield where he was cutting the walk down to size. He waited at the side of the facility staring at the Hu An habitat nearby. It was lush with growing things and appeared to have been in place longer than it actually was. Apparently, the Hu An could coax things to grow swiftly and well.
"How do you want to do this, Optimus?" Ratchet asked as Prime paused next to him.
"I will ask her directly. Then you take over the interrogation. I am going to watch her for tells. She's not as good at hiding her intentions as she thinks she is. The soldiers will be there along with Fulton, our new interface with the State Department and Glenn Morshower. I am also told that Agent Simmons is going to be online as well."
"Sector 7. What a nest of loons," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "Shall we?"
Prime nodded so Ratchet turned and they walked to the back of the enormous domed building. At the back was an airlock built to Cybertronian specifics. It opened into a large open space where a platform was built for communications. A lot of soldiers worked there, this space backing up to Ops Center which could be seen through transparent walls. Once the airlock was made and the pressurization and oxygenation completed, the techs and everyone else would return to the room and conversation would begin.
They stood in the open empty space waiting as the swift re-pressurization was underway. They saw her standing with the other humans and their soldiers through the wall. She was taking their measure, looking at them as if they were some sort of T. Rex exhibit in a museum. When the claxon sounded, the hiss of the doors signaled the completion of the process. The doors continued to slide as people came in and took their places. The humans who would speak climbed the steps as monitors on the platform came online with familiar faces.
Ratchet grinned. "Hello, John. How are you feeling?"
John Fulton nodded. "Tip top. I only have a slight stitch in my side now. I'm looking forward to football and the Festival."
Mearing walked over to the monitors and looked at them but Morshower and Fulton ignored her in their conversation with Ratchet.
"We're going all out on the fireworks I'm told," Ratchet replied. "Wheeljack and Perceptor have a reputation to maintain. One cannot rest on one's aft year to year."
Morshower chuckled. "No, one can't."
Prime grinned, then looked at Mearing. "Ms Mearing, welcome to Autobot City and Mars."
She nodded. "Thank you. You wished to speak to me."
They all considered her tense wary posture and expression. Then Prime nodded. "I do. Something has come up that needs clarification."
She looked at Morshower and Fulton seeing nothing in their faces that looked like allegiance. Only Ratchet had any kind of pleasant expression on his face. "Alright. What can I do if anything for you, Optimus Prime?"
Prime considered that, then continued. "We have detected the presence of another species," he said. "This species is highly malevolent and has clashed with us early on in our residence here. We defeated them handily but they appear to be allies to Megatron and the Decepticons. They have come to understand that they cannot defeat us. They are too weak personally and their weapons and ships are not up to the task. They are called the Hish-qu-Ten or Hish."
She looked at him, her face schooled to a blandness that gave her credit. She considered his question, then Agent Simmons spoke. "The Hish? You want to know about the Hish. Is that what they're called?" He sounded shorter and more irritated than usual.
Prime looked at his monitor. "You have heard of them then."
"Oh I have alright," he said with a look of deep irritation. He was directing that at Mearing. "I am well the hell aware of them."
Mearing looked back at him with the same expression. "I would like to speak to you alone for a moment," she said to Simmons on the monitor.
"Really," he said snippily. "NOW you want to be alone with me. NOW."
Mearing looked at him sharply. "Now is not the time to talk about personal things. We have a situation here."
"We do. We had one then too. When is the time, CHARLOTTE? I am wondering when you will make time in your BUSY schedule to talk?"
She looked at him with an expression of aghast horror and seething rage. "NOT NOW! We have a problem."
"We sure do. Why don't you just tell them about the aliens? You know about them … the Hish. Tell me you don't," Simmons said with his usual angry staccato.
She turned and looked at the bots and the men watching on the monitors. "May I have a moment?" she asked.
"No," Ratchet said with a slight grin. "As much as I would love to hear the story of you and Simmons and all the fragging that did or didn't happen to everyone's mutual satisfaction, you have been posed a question by the Prime of Cybertron. I think you need to pull your pants up, both of you," Ratchet said glancing at Simmons, then Mearing, "and answer him."
Prowl who was listening in via Prime nearly glitched. Ironhide who was listening in through Ratchet howled with laughter.
-0-TBC July 23, 2013 (Bot conversation included for Elita-1) :D:D:D