The Diego Diaries: You're Welcome 1 (531) edited
-0-At the Homestead
The door opened as infants ran in, tangled themselves and fell down in a pile.
"ADA! I FALLED!" Orion looked up at Ratchet who was laughing loudly. He smiled brilliantly. "I FALLED!"
"You sure did, spud," Ratchet said unwinding the mob. They all stood up staring a him with smiles. Then almost as one, they turned and ran for their rooms, a barking dog in hot pursuit. Ratchet and Ironhide watched, then looked at each other. "I called Neo. You didn't call the school. You are a putz, Ironhide. A woos. A BIG FEMME! Honestly, Ironhide … you seem to want your infants to be illiterate."
"I don't. Much," Ironhide said with a smirk. He walked to his red chair to sit. Grinning up at Ratchet, he pushed his luck. "GET ME A BEER, OLD MECH! HURRY UP!"
Ratchet laughed out loud. "You have a death wish I see." He turned and got two beers. Tossing one to Ironhide, he sat in his green chair. They clicked them together, then kicked back. "Ah," Ratchet said taking a big sip. "Praxus Black Label is the only good entertainment to come out of Praxus. Ever."
"I don't know. You never complain when we frag," Ironhide replied with a HUGE preen.
"Fragging … what's that?" Ratchet replied with a grin. As he did three sparklings came running out laughing at the top of their lungs. Then they turned and ran back dodging Sunspot and Spot. Barely.
He of course let them. One couldn't tag a sparkling too soon in the game. Fairness was next to godliness for that nice little Seeker.
The monitor beeped. Ratchet commed it open. T-Bar and Spirit were crowding the screen. "UNCLE RATCHET! UNCLE IRONHIDE! CAN SUNSPOT COME UP TO PLAY!?"
"What does your ada say?" Ratchet asked.
"It's okay by me, loser," Prowl's voice could be heard saying.
Ratchet smirked, then nodded. "Okay. SUNSPOT!?"
A little Seeker peeped out of Prowler's bedroom. "What, Ada?"
"Little mechs want you to come upstairs," Ratchet replied.
He smiled enormously. "CAN I!?"
"Yep," Ratchet and Ironhide said together. They watched as Sunspot and Spot bounded to the door and out. It closed slowly. Turning back to the monitor, they both noted Prowl's image filling it. "Hi ya, Prowler. What's up?" Ratchet asked as he saluted him with his beer.
"I see you take in reprobates," Prowl said with a smirk.
"I have to let Ironhide in. He lives here," Ratchet said with a dazzling smile.
"Is that so?" Prowl said enjoying the withering frown Ironhide shot Ratchet. "You have such low standards lately. It is a huge step downward from a monumentally fine little mech like Sunspot to Springer."
"Are you upset that we're ahead or that we adopted the former Mrs. Optimus Prime?" Ratchet sparred back.
Prowl snorted in spite of himself. "You are a tool. Springer. That means you have Drift as an in-law."
"We only adopt the best looking mechs. If Drift had been ugly, we would have turned down Springer's petition," Ratchet said.
Prowl laughed. "You are full of it," he said. "What does this mean for tomorrow? Do we have more folks in for the dinner?"
"We do. How do you want to manage this, Prowler? Do you want to come here and party or what?" Ratchet said.
Prowl considered that. "We can hold more bodies. We will have the six of us, the five of the trine, our four genitors, your six genitors and uncle, your what … FIFTEEN TRILLION YOUNGLINGS?!"
Ratchet and Ironhide laughed out loud. "Jealous much? How about sparking and catching up? You aren't even trying to make this race competitive."
Prowl grinned. "Frag you, loser. We're looking at close to thirty. Come up here. Bring your food. We're going to try it American-style. We're having turkey, stuffing, whatever that is … some potatoes and gravy because Optimus will have a fit if we don't..."
"Ironhide too," Ratchet said glancing sideways at the big mechanism who was nodding. "We have a turducken."
"Oh frag. You're going to do that again, old mech? I thought you learned your lesson already?" Ironhide asked.
"Frag you, Ironhide. I ordered one made. Slag me off enough I'll cancel it and make my own," Ratchet said.
"No. You don't have to do that. Turducken tastes good. Even if you make it," Ironhide said with a smirk. A hard slug on the arm greeted that sitrep. "Ow."
"Frag you, Ironhide." He looked at Prowl with a grin. "Apparently, a big part of Thanksgiving in America is fighting among the participants. Ironhide is practicing his smart aft remarks and I'm practicing hitting him."
"At least Springer and Drift will be there to arrest you, you white aft slagger," Ironhide said rubbing his arm with a grin.
"There, there," Ratchet said. He looked at Prowl. "I told the trine to bring appetizers. I'm almost afraid to know what that means. I am told you will bring the rolls … whatever those are and the condiments. What else?"
"My ada is making the pies. He's the gourmet cook. We are supplying drinks. Also, the drinks for the infants," Prowl said.
Ratchet nodded. "We will bring a 'ham' too whatever that is. Apparently, overeating is the norm. I have never had a ham. Or a turkey like the pictures show. Yams?"
"I have them. Kes and Tagg are going to be bringing Cybertronian festival food," Prowl said.
"Oh Primus. I can't wait. Will they bring Festival cake?" Ironhide asked. "I haven't had Festival cake since forever."
"Didn't we have some during Festival, Ironhide?" Ratchet asked as he thought back to the enormous dinner that they all had partaken during the Festival of Primus.
"Nope," Ironhide said.
"I'll ask Ada to make some then," Ratchet said. "No sense burdening down everyone with everything. Ada and Atar are bringing classics. Cybertronian food and Appa."
Prowl chuckled. "How is your namesake doing, Ratchet?"
"He's about 85% optimal. His wasting will take time but he's among the 10% who have accelerated reactions to the treatment for protoform wasting. Lucky us."
Prowl nodded. "It will be nice to see him. I suppose you want to have things start about noon?"
"If you are out of the sack. I don't know your fragging schedule, Prowler. You tell us," Ratchet asked.
Prowl snorted, then preened slightly. "Jealous, much?"
That received a right good slagging, then they agreed. The sound of Sunspot and the others including the barking of a dog overtook propriety so they signed off. It was quiet but for the odd comment or laugh of sparklings in the other rooms.
"Well, tomorrow is going to be fun," Ironhide said.
Ratchet nodded. "Yep," he said as the two clinked their bottles together.
-0-Thanksgiving Orn, The Primal Colony of Mars
The sun came up over the bulging horizon of Olympus Mons. A city-wide holiday had been called for everyone with the essential personnel only serving one joor before being relieved by someone else. The streets were busy as mechs and femmes went here and there. The schools were closed for the orn which would lead into the three orn weekend.
Rec rooms were open with heaping tables of food and drink. Social clubs were booked for group parties and gatherings along with a number of social spaces around the cities where clubs would meet along with classes for this and that. This would be the first time Thanksgiving was being held in the colony, the last time having been canceled by events. It was being embraced by the population in a big way. Everyone was thankful. Having a party about it seemed the next reasonable step.
Smokescreen sat on the couch watching something called Australian Rules Football on the monitor. It was up his alley. Kicking, punching, no padding against possible permanent injury and apparently no rules he could figure out. Some things that were awesome were inscrutable. It was part of their mystery and charm.
Nearby finishing up the dinner that would be served to the family, Devcon watched as well. He was very good at a lot of things. He could track time across space, find things lost that no one even ventured were missing and cook like a dream. Having taken care of his son and grandson through hell and back, anything that would make them happy he learned. No one made Smokey's favorite foods as well as he did. He made sure of it.
A rap on the door brought a grin. "Come in!"
Moda and Tress entered carrying dishes themselves. Greetings were held and hugs given. Behind them, a grin on his handsome face, Smokey followed. "Hi," he said getting a bone crushing hug from his grandada.
"Hey yourself," Dev said handing out beer. "I'm glad you came."
"I am too. No one cooks like you," he said before turning to his ada. "Uh, sorry Ada."
Tress smirked. "NO OFFENSE TAKEN!" he barked. Then he was enveloped in Smokey's arms. Hugging him back, they turned to the screen. "What's playing, Grandatar?" Smokey asked.
"Australian Rules Football. It's this side of amazing," Smokescreen said as Moda and Tress moved over to watch. A rap on the door caught everyone's attention.
"I'll get it," Smokey said rather brightly.
"I'll get it, son," Dev said cutting him off. He opened the door, stood a moment, then stepped back. "Come on in."
A pensive Hot Rod entered, a beautifully wrapped item in his servos. "Hi. Uh, Smokey invited me. I hope that's alright."
Dev nodded. "Is that for the dinner?"
"It is. Its uh, its celebration cookies from Tarn," Hot Rod replied holding them out to Dev.
Dev grinned taking them in servo. He handed a beer to Roddy, then ushered him into the living room. They sat together sipping beer, cheering on teams they had never heard of in a sport they didn't know existed but found AMAZINGLY familiar and fun. Dinner would be had. Fun would be had. All would be good.
Today.
-0-Nearby in the slammer
The prison had provided a lot of food and non-intoxicating drinks for the inmates. They had laid it all out on tables that bowed under the weight and variety of offerings. The prisoners had stood behind temporary bars as crews laid it out for all concerned. Then the Officer of the Orn stepped forward. "Today is a holiday in the colony that is celebrated in honor of our allies on the next planet over, the humans. They were the ones that helped kill The Fallen and slagged Megatron to the Pit and back twice. On this occasion, you eat until you fall down, hang out with family and watch football."
The prisoners who were listening blinked. "Football?" someone called out.
"We have a championship of the world coming up in about three orns. Praxus versus Kaon. We are going to pipe in the games that led up to it among the six teams in the professional league. That will begin in three joors. Until then, eat with the compliments of the Prime and the Colony, you half wit losers. Consider the error of your ways if you can, you slaggers." With that, he turned and walked to the gate, put up the bars and dropped the ones holding back this section of the slaggers.
The prisoners watched them, then hesitatingly walked forward. They stared at the spread, then began to fill plates. They would for hours eating food designed like nothing they had seen before that tasted like nothing they had ever had before. Then the football would play and for some, it would be the last straw. The already weak ties to the Cause would be broken and they would begin to petition for citizenship a few at a time.
Since there were 10,247 of them behind bars from the armada in the last migration, it would take a few before they even began to make a dent in their numbers.
-0-Nearby
Sentinel and the others sat around the table in their barracks staring at the feed delivered. It was massive. Then there was football. It almost felt like home back when. That is, it would have but for the prison around them. They sat eating silently together.
-0-Nearby
It took a while to deliver dinner. The slaggers inside were on a roll.
"FRAGGERS! PUT DOWN THE BARS AND I'LL ANNIHILATE YOU!
The Officer of the Orn grinned. "I didn't know you could speak in full sentences, Motormaster, let alone say big words. Good for you."
The invective that drew was astonishing even to long term prison guards like the Officer of the Orn. When the bars went down the slaggers inside fought over who got to eat first. It was almost as entertaining as football to the guards doing their joor on duty.
-0-Up in the clouds
The door rapped, then was answered by a youngling with a giant smile. "UNCLE IRONHDIE!" T-Bar yelled before he was picked up and hugged.
Ratchet walked in behind him with boxes of food. Ravel and Tie Down followed with their own. Behind them, Blackjack, Alor, Flint and Appa Ratchet followed with their own full arms. Into the kitchen they went passing and joshing those already there. The infants squeed, the animals bounced including Bob as the masses came together. After all the hugs were given between all the genitors, Ratchet turned to the crowds. "I want you to meet my grandatar, Ratchet. I am named for him. Appa, I will try and introduce everyone to you, okay?"
The little mech nodded, then held up a servo. "In a moment, grandson." He turned to Optimus who was standing by the counter grinning broadly. Ratchet bowed, holding it a moment. Then he looked up at Optimus with emotion. Holding out his servo, he nearly cried. "I am so honored to see you, Lord Optimus," he said old school. "I never hoped in my life to do so again."
Optimus enclosed Ratchet's servo into his own. "I am so happy you are here. We will retrieve everyone including the others. This is my promise to you."
Ratchet smiled. "I know. You are First Disciple to Primus and the Matrix is your guide. I know. I will help you. All you have to do is say what you need me to do. I will do it."
There wasn't a dry optic in the place as the little mech clung to Optimus's servo. Optimus nodded. "I would like you to be patriarch of the dinner today," he said acting old school himself. The oldest elder present was always given pride of place at gatherings in traditional Cybertronian households. Optimus steered him to a nice chair where Appa Ratchet sat. He bowed his helm at Prime in return. "Thank you. I am honored."
Ratchet himself grinned. "That fits," he said with a chuckle. "Appa, this is Optimus Prime and his bond, the loser, Prowl."
Appa Ratchet blinked, fixing a gimlet optic on Ratchet. "Loser?"
"You see it too, huh?" Ratchet asked to an avalanche of slag and a sharp elbow from Prowl. He grinned and continued. "These handsome little mechs are theirs too. Rambler, T-Bar, Spirit and Miracle are their names." They all bowed to Appa Ratchet and he nodded back with a big smile. "What lovely babies," he said.
"Your appa knows quality, Ratchet. Too bad about you," Prowl said as he got a sharp elbow in the side from Ratchet. Soldiering on, Ratchet continued. "These handsome mechs are Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Bluestreak. You met them." Appa nodded. "These are their infants, your great grandchildren. That is Kaon, this is Uraya and that is Iacon. They are the only femme twins in Cybertronian history."
The infants smiled at him, then walked over for a hug. They got one, that and a lap. Miracle seeing them sit walked over to sit in Appa's lap too. Orion, Praxus and Hero seeing that walked over and were assisted up as well. Seven little smilers sat on his lap grinning up at him. He smiled back. "See what flowers I have in my garden, Ravel?"
"I do, Atar," Ravel said with a smile.
"That is Spot, our dog. That one," Ratchet said pointing to a pile by the window, "is Dawg. He belongs to the trine. So does the little insecticon. I know you have met half the individuals here but I want to make sure you can remember better now that you feel less ill."
"I remember but its kind of a blur, Ratchet," Appa said nodding. "Thank you."
The door bell rang, so the younglings ran for it. It swept open revealing two rather nervous individuals.
"Come in," Prowl called out with a smirk.
They entered, their servos laden. Ratchet smirked. "This is the new youngling, Appa. This is Springer, the grandson. The other is his bond, Drift."
They shook servos, were lightened in their load, then stood beside the twins. Ratchet continued. "You remember Blackjack, Alie and Flint, right?"
"All but Flint, I think. I don't recall meeting you," Appa said shaking servos.
"These are Prime and Prowl's genitors. This is Kestrel and Tagg, Optimus's genitors," Ratchet said as they shook. "This is Venture and Miler, Prowl's long suffering genitors." Another elbow greeted that.
When all the greetings were had, Prowl rapped on the table. "Let's feed the kids, then its every mech for yourself."
Springer grinned. "This is my kind of party."
Sunstreaker grinned back. "Get used to it. Christmas Surprise is coming up," he said before all the infants descended upon the table.
-0-TBC November 28, 2013
HAPPY THANKSGIVING/THURSDAY TO ALL! -Me, about to go to a pig out myself. :D:D:D