The Diego Diaries: Warrior 1 (dd3 426)
-0-Around the city
They walked together going in and out of the underground, pausing to get a snack before walking some more. By the time they reached the Guild Hub, a couple of joors had passed. Walking through that part of the city dedicated to clubs, unions, guilds and other social organizations it was obvious to Devcon where they were going. Each organization had their own office and meeting space, some bigger than the others. When Smokescreen paused before one with a door that stated "Warriors Association. All veterans and their families welcome" he knew he'd been played. Glancing at his bond, he smirked. "You coming in, too?"
"I think I'll get some energon," Smokescreen said. He kissed Dev, then nodded at the door. "Go. I'll be out here." He walked to a nearby snack bar for energon.
Dev watched him then turned to the door. After a moment of hesitation he walked inside.
A big mech scarred and burly stepped from an office. "Hi."
Dev nodded. "Hi."
"First time I take it," he said extending his servo. "I'm Rett."
"I'm Devcon," he replied taking the mech's servo into his own.
"I know. You hunted our group once. Nearly got us," he said raising his arm to reveal his Autobrand.
Dev smirked. "Lucky you. I must've been down in the dumps that orn."
"I'm not sorry," Rett said with a grin. "Come on in and sit a spell."
He followed the big mech past small rooms with mechs talking, some in pairs, others in small groups. Some mechs were playing cards. They walked into an office as Rett shut the door. "Have a seat and relax."
Dev did. "What now?"
"How can we help you? You must be here for a reason," Rett asked sitting back to listen.
Dev considered that then nodded. "My bond thinks I need to come here."
"What about you?" Rett asked.
Dev considered that. "He's probably right. I think I'm treating my grandson like a mark."
"How so?" Rett asked.
"He's become involved with someone who's not good for him. I think he's not good. I like the mech but he's experienced and fast … looser with himself than I want my boy to be around. I don't want my boy hurt."
"Sounds reasonable. What about it isn't reasonable?" Rett asked.
Dev considered that. "I think I can't handle this without all the tricks. All the stealth and sneaking around. He's become a mark, my boy. I'm obsessed with protecting him and it has made me do things that aren't actually nice."
"Spying and the like?" Rett asked.
Dev nodded.
"Its hard to make the transition to a more peaceful life, one with the family around. The warrior mode is so in your face," Rett said. "I had a really hard time transitioning myself."
Dev nodded. "When it comes to my son and grandson there's no divide for me. They're my entire existence on some level. They're my legacy, my pride and joy."
Rett nodded. "Tell me about them."
Dev thought about that a moment, then shifted slightly …
-0-Praxus, Cybertron, long ago at a very exclusive school
He sat in the corridor before the office of the Head Master. The school was the best one in Praxus which was saying something. Praxus was loaded with great schools. Moda stood between his legs leaning against his Ada watching as this and that bot walked here and there, some with infants.
The door opened and a mech looked out kindly. "The Head Master will see you, sir."
Dev picked up his son, Moda, who was shined within an inch of his life and walked inside. Greeting the master, he sat with Moda on his lap. That tiny mech sat quietly, politely, the way he was raised.
"Welcome to Praxus Infant Academy, Devcon. I received your letter and would like to take your application."
Dev nodded steeling himself for the inevitable.
"Your son's name?"
"Moda."
"Genitors?"
"Smokescreen and Devcon."
"Your son's caste is high, correct?"
"No."
There was a pause, then the master sat back eyeing Dev curiously. "If it isn't, your son cannot come here. You know the laws."
Dev considered that. "I'm aware of that. But my boy is going to go to school here and its going to be safe without any blow back coming to him personally for that."
"I'm afraid that isn't possible," the master said.
"I am Devcon. I'm a bounty hunter and Autobot soldier. Because I'm willing to fight and protect everyone including you, you slag heap, you will take my son into this school and give him the first class education that my service ensures for you and all the other societal parasites of your class.
"I'm special ops with clearance levels out my aft," Dev said. "I can infiltrate anything and I can find secrets you don't even know you have. I'm prepared to become the shadow over your sun for the duration of your entire life if my son is denied.
"I expect him to be enrolled, educated and his caste status protected against disclosure or I'll be the blight on your backside that never goes away." He leaned closer. "Understand. I can do anything without anyone ever finding out. You'll never see the fist that flattens your aft, the spider that tracks your data, the noose that fits your neck. No one will be able to stop me because no one ever has. I can make you a king of the world or a world class criminal with the stroke of a keyboard. What do you want to do? Educate my boy or live in the Pit forever?"
It was a simple choice. They finished the paperwork, then Dev left his son. Walking out was incredibly hard but he did. Finding a place to sit nearby, he watched the recesses his son had playing happily with other children. His teachers seemed kindly so he knew he'd made his point. When the time came to get Moda he stood in the gateway waiting for the door to open.
Many were the adults there to pick up their infants, all of the shinier, obviously high caste individuals gathering together to talk. It took a moment, but he saw that they congregated away from him. To test his hypothesis, he moved toward them. They moved away. Another bot showed up, one more like him. He turned to that bot and considered him. "Hi."
"Hi," that bot replied. "You new?"
Dev nodded. "I am."
"Whose kid are you here for?" the bot asked. "I'm the caregiver for Rabon." That bot was an industrialist well known on Cybertron. The door opened at that moment and infants began to come out running to their particular adult. Three came to the bot hugging his legs.
Petting them, he looked at Dev. "See ya." They walked away, the infants happily telling their nanny what they'd done that orn.
Hate. Its a learned attribute.
When all the infants were gone without Moda coming out, too, Dev walked inside the school. It was quiet, the rooms empty of everyone but one. When he found Moda he was sitting on a chair at a table working on a paper, three adults watching including the head master.
Moving to stand inside, he looked sharply at them.
One stood and smiled. "Your son is being tested. He has an incredible aptitude for numbers and his abilities are huge in all the content areas."
Dev nodded. "We taught him a lot of things."
He nodded. "It's obvious. He's very smart, this little one."
Thus would start the educational career of Moda and the quest for the well being and decent future of all his family by Devcon the Relentless and Smokescreen the Every Vigilant. No one would ask Moda what his caste was. He'd graduate with honors and attend University after a short chat with admissions by Devcon, graduating there with honors as well.
Devcon vented a sigh. "It was always a hassle but worth it. My son deserved an education. He would've even if he hadn't been good at it."
Rett nodded. "What about your grandson?"
He considered that …
Moda looked at Dev with nervous palpitations.
Dev grinned. "Wait here. I'll do this."
Tress and Moda looked at him with fear, then nodded. "I'm sorry I'm such a coward but I hate this so much, Ada."
"I do, too, son but its okay. I did it for you and I claim the right to do it for Smokey," Dev said as he held the shiny spectacular infant in his arms.
Smokey smiled as he looked at them.
Moda kissed him and Tress did, too. "Be good, son."
"I will, Atar," Smokey said with a sweet smile.
Dev walked to the same school. Entering, he waited, then was admitted. A new head master was there because the old one had been promoted to the educational department of the governor. He sat and they looked at each other.
"That baby looks low or mid caste to me," he said without tact and without a clue to whom he was speaking.
Dev looked at the infant in his arms, the infant he would donate parts of his own body to preserve and set Smokey down. Walking to the door, he closed it. Then he walked back to sit. "That baby is my only grandson. He's perfect, you sick fragger. Are there any other questions?"
"I would like you to leave," the head master said.
Dev collected his nerves, then leaned forward. "No."
"I'll call the authorities," the younger mech said. He was an up and comer, the son of a family of privilege using the school, a most prestigious academy to get ahead.
"Do. I'll be happy to share with them all of your extra curricular activities." The expression of coldness on Dev's handsome face would have alerted someone with less privilege that this was unsafe ground to continue their slag but he was clueless.
Until now.
It was silent a moment, then the mech sat back flustered. "What are you talking about?"
"Embezzlement. You're stealing from your grandada's foundation. You're spending school funds on bar hopping and hanging with fringe characters … you're a danger junkie. You like being around trouble."
Dev sat closer. "Take a good look. This is the face that will haunt your dreams. This is the face of the mech who will take you down. I will take you down, your atar and all of your thieving family. I know that your father is skimming from the defense budget to finance your family fortunes. Call the authorities, fragger. I dare you."
The mech looked at Dev with intense fear. "You're lying."
"You know I'm not. I'm Devon. I'm a bounty hunter. Knowing secret slag is what I do. Then I take care of it. I have clearances you don't even know exist. I can walk on water and never leave a trace. When I'm on you, you're over. Ask around, fragger.
I'm a soldier, I'm your worst nightmare. My baby is going to school here. He will have a happy childhood of learning here. His caste status will be protected or I'll pull the plug on your family. I'll make sure that not only your real crimes are prosecuted and broadcast to the universe, I'll add a few more to make it really evident that you need prison forever, you and your fragging slacker family.
"Be aware. If anything happens to me, a packet of inconvenient truths gets sent. To everyone. People owe me favors and they're going to make sure that you fall if you do anything that makes me or mine feel even just the slightest bit sad. Then you can kiss your aft goodbye. Frag with me at your own expense."
The mech looked at Dev for a moment, then down at the data work before him. "Alright. If that's how you want to play this."
"Understand something here. If anything but rainbows and rust sticks happen for my baby here, I will obliterate you. You and yours will be a smoking hole in the ground no matter what your caste makes you think will happen."
He looked at Dev, then nodded.
Smokey was enrolled. He had his education. He had a grandada looking in on him from beyond the fence, the fence both metaphorically and physically separating him from the options of life he was going to fight to get for his infants.
Devcon got it done.
"Sounds like a struggle," Rett said quietly.
"It never felt like I could let up," Dev said. "I never trusted them to take care of my baby the right way. He graduated with friends and honors just like his atar. My boys are good boys, both of them. They're going to become something more than Smokescreen and me.
"They have options. Smokey is going to college. He doesn't much like the idea of it but he can. I want him to have what Smoke and me could never have. He'll have a degree that will keep him safe forever. He'll be able to work and be able to make his way no matter what. An education can't be taken away from you."
Rett nodded. "It can't."
Devcon vented a sigh. "My boys deserve the best. I worked hard all my life to make sure of it. A lot of lonely assignments and a lot of slag. I don't regret it. My boys are wonderful."
"But what do you do now after a lifetime of taking care of them?" Rett ventured.
Dev stared at the top of Rett's desk for a moment. Then he looked at the big mech. "That's the thing isn't it? What comes next?"
"This mech … what does he want? A relationship? Just a spree?" Rett asked.
Dev shrugged. "Hot Rod's a good mech but he's arrogant and goes off half cocked. He's impetuous and full of himself. That's not what I want for my grandson. This will be his first real relationship. I don't want it to be a notch on Roddy's belt. I've seen him in different places all around and he's not exactly what a genitor would smile over for their youngling."
"Have you talked to him?" Rett asked.
Dev grinned. "Smoke is going to do that today."
Rett nodded. They sat and talked, the joor passing, then Dev thanked him and left. Walking out, he paused beside Smokescreen.
He stood and kissed Dev. "Feel better?"
"Somewhat."
They linked arms and walked toward the big doors that led to the subway station nearby.
"What did you learn?" Smokescreen asked with a grin.
Dev smirked, then glanced at him. "I learned that I have a very big pair of bearings."
They continued onward heading for the airfield.
Dev watched as Smokescreen boarded a ship bound for Io. When it lifted off, he watched a moment resisting an urge to check up on the grandson. Turning instead, he walked toward the Mare Tranquilitatis and home.
-0-TBC September 8, 2013 7-28-19