The Diego Diaries: Strategy 1 (428)
-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars
They sat around the table studying the data map before them. Everything that was known about the local sector of Cybertronian Empire was featured. A simple touch of the key and the map switched to the major area of contention, the spot where six dissident camps were to be found out of the eight so far discovered. The discussion would continue for several joors. Then assignments were meted out to all.
-0-On a ship arriving at Io, Jupiter, Forward Base #3
Smokescreen stepped off the ship then looked around the seething landscape. The base was here for scientific reasons but scuttlebutt said it would probably have to be moved due to its unstable footing on a volcanic planet being ripped around by the gravity of Jupiter.
It was a spectacular sight to see. The sky was filled with the enormous brilliant violent image of Jupiter, the great storm raging on its continuous path of destruction around the great gaseous planet. The moons of Jupiter, 67 in all, were many but the one he stood on was the best one for their forward base here. The outer 33 moons were trapped in the intense gravitational field of their host planet, the greatest in the solar system of this, a planet 300 times the mass of Earth. Given their orbits, they were asteroids caught by Jupiter in some distant eon.
The landscape beyond him was splotched with colors, sickly shades of greenish, yellowish, blackish and orangish, the spew of its unique volcanic core. It was the only other source of continuing volcanic activity in the solar system besides Earth, a side effect of the continuously occurring, relentlessly ruinous gravity of Jupiter. That titanic force kept the interior of the planet heated and molten.
He considered the multitude of planets that had been his lot to venture over the eons of his life and this one was like many others. He walked to the domed forward base nearby, its light streaming outward to illuminate the darkness.
He could feel the patter of debris, the puff of volcanic particulates as he stepped and the silent relentless spatter of radiation on his body. The ground crunched under his ped, the effect of being constantly renewed by volcanic fallout. It had no effect on him, any of this, his Cybertronian physiology more than up to the challenge of living a life in and out of space.
He reached the door and walked inside passing through the force field that separated the indoors from outside when the blast doors were open for resupply and other events. Pausing, he noted that Hot Rod was not nearby.
"Smokescreen," a voice called out.
He turned and smirked. "Hey, Whirlaway. How they hanging?"
Whirlaway snorted. "I get no complaints. Who are you looking for?" He was standing by the energon dispenser nearby in this, the main room of the installation.
Through an arched door, the operational center of the base could be seen. Bots were at work as beyond the vast dome floating debris could be seen entering the gravitational field of Jupiter to explode under that pressure or burn slowly like streaking fireballs across the night sky. Stars twinkled in the firmament and other moons could be seen on their own torturous journeys. It was beautiful.
"I was looking for Roddy," Smokescreen said with a smirk.
"He's in the lounge upstairs," Whirlaway answered.
Smokescreen nodded, then headed for the staircase nearby. He climbed up the curving stairs to the lounge which curled around the building in the new design reformatting that had been accomplished several months prior. The duty was arduous enough without comforts and they were granted in the master planning.
Hot Rod was sitting in a comfortable chair in front of the window, other mechs with him. They noticed, then greeted him. He replied, then paused. "Roddy, I'd like to talk to you a moment."
Hot Rod looked at him with startled, then wary optics. "Have a seat."
"In private," Smokescreen said.
The youngling wavered, then nodded. Standing, the two walked to the stairs. They disappeared below.
The others who were watching sat back and grinned. "Smokescreen's here to kick his aft. Who wants to bet?" Sandstorm asked.
No one did.
-0-At a corner of the city
Vinn waited for the light to change to cross the street. Behind him getting lunch from a street vendor, Fenix watched him. He took his food and walked over to stand beside Vinn.
Vinn glanced his way, then nodded. "Good morning, Fenix. You look well."
"As do you," Fenix said noncommittally. "I saw Joon on the Platoon episode."
Vinn acknowledged that even as his guard came up automatically at the mention. He was aware that Joon had spoken her mind, a sentiment that he shared intensely. But it wouldn't be welcomed by Fenix and their usefulness to Prime might be destroyed by an unguarded moment. "That was a surprise. Apparently, the humans have permission to film anyone that they wish."
"I was rather surprised by her remarks," Fenix said dryly.
"I wasn't. What do you expect? Do you think she would have said anything else on camera for a program that everyone including Prime would watch?" Vinn asked with a shrug. The light changed and both stepped out to cross the busy street.
Fenix considered that. "I see your point."
Vinn shrugged. "You have to watch yourself here. The last thing I want is to end up on Prime's surveillance list."
Fenix nodded. "You relieve my mind. You're a mech of great prestige and it would be a shame to lose you to the Prime."
Vinn nodded. "We do what we must. It cannot be helped."
Fenix nodded. "I have a meeting this afternoon. I will be meeting with the council tonight. Can you come?"
Vinn nodded. "When?"
"2200 on their military clock," Fenix replied.
Vinn nodded. "I will be there," he said grimly. He continued onward to the subway that would take him to the Veteran's Military and Family Health Center where he worked as a counselor for the families of soldiers and those harmed by war. It was thrilling work for the mech who was as dedicated to Prime and the values of the Circle of Light as a mech could be.
Of course, Fenix didn't have to know that.
-0-Teacher Lounge, Youngling Day School, Autobot City, Mars
"This project is going to be a good thing. But Sunspot might have trouble with it," Terradive said on his prep time. The other teachers out of class at the same time nodded.
"He has counseling, right?" another teacher asked.
"He does. It helps. He also has his service dog. He has amazing genitors and a loving home. He has this blind spot for humans. Maybe this will help. If he gets letters from kids that are filled with kid stuff, he might change his mind," Terradive replied sitting back with a softly vented sigh. "I love that little mech."
His colleagues nodded. "We do, too."
-0-At the studio
Sunstreaker winnowed down the possible candidates for the colony's Christmas Surprise card to a pile of nearly 300 pictures. As he studied the images, the door opened and Leonora Huttle drove in on her segway. She drove it with Mikaela Banes hanging on behind her. They paused beside Sunstreaker's ped.
Looking down, Sunstreaker spotted them. "Hey."
:Hey, Sunny. I brought Mikaela here because she wants to discuss an idea of hers with you:
Sunstreaker sat back staring down at the two human women with interest. "Okay."
Mikaela looked up into the alien face of one of the most feared citizens of a colony she'd begun to love and regard as home. She considered her thoughts, then began.
:Sunstreaker, I heard that you were taking images of the kids:
He nodded. "I am. A project for Prowl and Ada."
Mikaela who was aware of Sunstreaker's status as Ratchet and Ironhide's son grinned. :I want to make a calendar with their pictures:
Sunstreaker made the relevant searches, then looked at them a moment. "I don't have permission to allow that or not."
:No, but you have beautiful kids and you're on the school committee. If you were on board with this, then it'll be easier to ask Prime and Prowl about it and get permission:
"This calendar thing … what are you thinking about?" Sunstreaker asked.
:I was thinking it would be a way to show the people of Earth that you have beautiful children, too, and that they're loved and cared for. I was thinking how important it was to build bridges between your world and ours. What better way than through the babies? The proceeds can be donated to children's charities on Earth:
Sunstreaker mulled it over, then shrugged. "It's a great idea. But the firewall is Prime and Prowl. You'd have to go through them."
:Since you would do the photography, I wanted to get your ideas and thoughts as well: Mikaela said.
"There are hundreds of cute sparklings and younglings in this city. I've only taken pictures of the family kids. It wouldn't be fair or complete without other infants and younglings included," Sunstreaker said.
Mikaela nodded. :We can negotiate a solution once the proposal is accepted. If it is. I just wanted to get your opinion:
Sunstreaker nodded. "Alright. Let me know what they say."
Mikaela smiled, then patted Leonor's shoulder. They waved then buzzed off. Sunstreaker watched them go, then turned back to the difficult task of deciding if this image of his daughters was better than six others spread out on the light table before him.
-0-Prime
He walked into the ward where families and their patients were resting from the ordeal of their journey. Prime walked to each group, each berth, talking together with each one. The patients were very ill, some of them still in a mild medical stasis. Most of them were so ill that anything deeper would have repercussions.
The few who were coherent to talk told of the chaos of Galvatron and his penchant for bloodshed and brutality. He grew 'bored', thus began a 'practice of Megatron, my father' by re-instituting the gladiatorial games of Kaon. He chose who would fight whether they wanted to or not and if they were insufficiently aggressive or brutal enough, he would climb into the ring and beat them down himself.
Many were the mechs who were murdered. Many were the families wrenched apart by his cruelty. The only option was to run. They had everything ready to go.
Then Galvatron left to go to Cybertron and beyond that, with his father. They were already on their way mere joors after the monster had left. Barc had taken a crew of mechs, then hit the jails and brigs for freedom, searching every square inch of the base to leave nothing unchecked. It had been preferable fighting to live than dying at the hands of a mad mech.
By the time he reached the room where Combo lay, he'd seen nearly everyone. He'd been given oaths from all he encountered, then paused in the corridor to get an update from Gypsy. He waited as Amot and Argosy, two Seekers from Vos came to speak to him. They were Nitro and Combo's genitors, a pair of hardworking decent mechs who'd never asked for anything in their lives but a chance to raise their hatchlings in peace.
They never got it.
They looked at Prime, their ragged emotions brimming in their optics. They bowed their helms in respect, then Amot began to kneel.
Prime gripped his arm and helped him back to his feet. "Please," he said gently.
Amot looked at him, then his bond and Nitro. "We're willing to work at whatever you ask of us to do. We give our oaths to you and the Matrix with gratitude, Optimus Prime."
"I accept them," Prime said offering his servo. "You are welcome here. Your son, Nitro, is a very much admired mech and sits on the community council to help direct this colony."
They glanced at him a moment with disbelief, then Amot nodded as his own emotions shimmered.
They both looked at Prime with wretchedness. "I'm so sad for our people that things should have come to this. Thank you for another chance. We will work night and orn for the good of this colony and the well being of our family."
"You need to first care for yourself and your son until he is fit. Nitro will help you and we have resources that are at your disposal. Everything that you require to bring him to fullness again, we will give," Prime said. "You must put yourselves and your family first. Then worry about everything else. Rest, live in your home, enjoy the city. We have time for you to be well."
They nodded, then Prime entered the room where Combo lay silently. It was darkened, the machines worked softly as the youngling lay in recovery. He was in stasis still but he looked better. At least, Prime knew enough about the data readings to know that he was getting closer to the range where things were going to be better.
He took the youngling's servo, squeezing it gently. A pain rose in him, the pain of sorrow for his suffering people. As he did the light of the room began to grow. It came from his chest, filtering out until the youngling and Prime were engulfed in it. It spilled out of the room then it began to recede. It seemed to fall back into Prime and then was gone.
Optimus stood as if in trance for a moment holding the mech's servo, then glanced at the data readings on the monitor over the berth. He stared at the numbers, then felt the weight of the world fall off his shoulders. All of the data read in the normal range.
-0-TBC September 10, 2013 7-28-19