The Diego Diaries: New Year 3 (584)

-0-The next morning, Autobot City and the Primal Colony of Mars

"What is the schedule today?" Sue Barker asked as she shut down her computer. She had posted her blog detailing her day since coming to report on the game with her fellows. Bob Costas had written a review of the game post playing that was published on Earth the following day.

DATELINE: Autobot City, Mars

Bob Costas

I have just finished watching one of the most extraordinary events of my sport's reporting career. Check that. One of the most extraordinary events of my life. I am sitting here on Mars in a human habitat designed by aliens writing my impressions of a game that has become the most watched event on two planets and words fail me. I have decided instead to post my impressions and conclusions in as coherent an order as I can. Since the Prime of Cybertron and Mars has been so gracious as to invite me and my colleagues to spend extra days (or orns as they call them) I am going to continue to tell you what I see and hear.

The Game: That is what it was called, The Game. In the tribal, caste and clan dominated world of Cybertron, the divisions among the people were many. You lived in Your City, in Your City-State at the caste level determined in a distant past that was binding on you and yours, doing the work allotted to you by that caste system forever. You cheered Your Team, Your Town, Your Clan/Family. Even though there is intense pride and unity of purpose among all the Cybertronians here, one is still defined by their city-state and clan/family. You lived and died by the actions and honor/lack there of, derived/or not from the behavior of your fellows and your teams.

You saw the singing, fan colors proudly displayed, the war dances of the teams as they showed the universe their strength and beauty, their unity. They sang and danced for themselves but they did it more so for their city-state and fellows. The fierceness of their pride and the singularity of their resolve probably didn't cross the airwaves to Earth as intensely as it translated here but it was visceral. I could almost taste it. They played for a greater purpose, something that is often lost in the ego and money drenched games of Earth. The violence of their factions was fully resolved on the ground by their teams. In the stands, there was support but not hatred or arrogance. When the game concluded hundreds of thousands of fans came onto the field to celebrate without one act of violence betraying the moment.

They have resolved to be one and in that unity they have found peace and security. It was illuminating to me that so much difference in the end was still distilled down to one people, one purpose. It was intensely refreshing.

Being on the middle line near to ground level, it was easy to see many things that don't come over the airwaves to Earth. The violence of the players is astounding. That anyone can get back up afterward and continue is astonishing. There are legal fisticuffs and illegal. One can punch and kick in the scrum but not chasing someone down field with your fist cocked. You may land a punch at some point but you can't begin a windup on the fly. It is a distinction that takes some getting used to. And I would say, the entertainment in the stands is nearly as brilliant as that on the field.

The Players: I have never seen athletes like this. All of them are amateurs in this league although many of them were professionals in the same sport on Cybertron. Bracket who is the goalie of Kaon was a pro. So was Blurr. He is an athlete who cannot be understood without seeing him do his magic in person. He can accelerate to mach two in 0.2 seconds. MACH TWO! ZERO POINT TWO SECONDS!

Kaon did the only thing they could. They put him on the bench.

There were many stand out athletes. The twin brothers, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were grace and poise unlike anything I have ever seen. They were such a coordinated team that their twinship truly was a turning point for Kaon. It is clear to this day that no team in the league has a plan to contain them short of dropping them right away. They can turn on seventy degree angles. They are nearly parallel to the ground when they do. It is hard to fathom even as I watch them here with my own eyes. Any other being would fall. The laws of gravity seem suspended for these two.

Praxus won the day. They were behemoths with a fast enough forward line. Kaon deported themselves with great honor with their own outstanding offense. Even when the violence depleted players on both sides, others filled the vacuum.

It is instructive to know a couple of things about the players. First and foremost, they have day jobs. All of them do other things when they aren't playing. Half of them are in the professional ranks of the armed forces. They are full time soldiers and airmen. The rest of them attend school or work in private enterprise, some of them owning their own businesses. Some do both like Blurr and Sunstreaker. None of them take a salary for this. All they get in return for some of the most spectacular sporting play I have ever seen is the honor and personal satisfaction of doing so and the adoration of their supporters.

And believe you me, they are adored by their supporters.

About half the league players are in bonds. It is the Cybertronian designation for marriage. Many of them are parents, or genitors as they call themselves. Some of them coached the infant football that was honored during halftime. I have met and talked to nearly all of them. Very few of them are divas. Some of them are very strong and confident about their skills and themselves. The twins are very much at ease with themselves and what they can do.

What impressed me the most was their dedication to the team effort, their city-state and their families. They were playing for each other, their city and the honor of their families. The ego that pervades sports on Earth, the overwhelming self love of athletes that has tainted professional sport there was missing here. They knew they were good athletes and capable of great play, but that is all. They played for their city first and foremost. They have other things to do and other lives to live outside of football. Some of those things require them to put their lives on the line in armed conflict.

It was refreshing to be around them in a way I struggle to articulate.

Then there was the half time show.

Imagine a local elementary school system coming onto the field of the Super Bowl or World Cup to honor their little soccer teams. We have all seen the films televised by IntraComm showing infant league ball games. All of us came to love and appreciate the team work, happiness and the sportsmanship of the little players. No one kept score. There could be more than one individual at each position if someone really wanted to play it. No games were won or lost. They were just played. It was by the agreement of the little players that such rules are made and kept. For them to come out to be honored during a world championship ball game was not only astounding, it was appropriate and heartwarming. It signifies the difference between the commercialization of sport on Earth and the genuine sportsmanship of the game as it is played here on Mars.

I never saw a group of athletes who earned their trophies more than the Micro Mini-Con and Youngling Football League of Mars. Bravo, children.

The Colony: I know what a mouse feels like when it comes out of its safe zone and enters our world. It is hard to describe how terrifying it is when first you become a small creature among titans. Imagine how a bird feels on the ground among humans. Imagine how you might feel to stand at the foot of a redwood tree and look up. Sometimes you can't see the faces of the bots you are among, they are so tall.

What they also are is unfailingly courteous and interested in helping you get the best experience possible during your stay. They are proud of their city and each other. They are intensely proud of their culture and achievement. They want us to understand them and feel at home.

I do. Immensely so.

I have been invited into their homes, their businesses and cultural institutions. Tomorrow after New Year and Memorial Day events are concluded, all of us will get the unprecedented opportunity of entering the Temple of Primus Restored. No one who isn't part of the initial group of humans who met, worked with and assisted the Autobots from the beginning has ever been inside. Not even the scientists and filmmakers who live here have had that opportunity. We are also going to meet the Hu-An, a species sometimes glimpsed on film who were rescued from captivity by the Autobots.

Everyone I have met is unfailingly courteous and helpful. They have proximity sensors on, even the children so our safety is assured. We move around on segways through a massive forest of buildings and habitats, riding an underground transport system that would be the envy of any Terran city as we get a measure of the grandeur and splendor of this colony.

I find myself enthralled with these people. You forget that they are metallic aliens from another world. Sitting, talking to them, you find yourself in touch with the commonalities, their 'humanity' if you will. They are intensely interested in us, want to know what we really think on all manner of topics and hope that we understand how far and how intensely they are prepared to defend us and our world.

I found out that Seekers never start families unless they can defend them. They never settle into family relationships unless they feel confident about the locale. There are thousands of Seeker families here. They are intensely proud of their educational system. It was the first public service provided when a tiny handful of refugees came here five years ago with infants including orphans. On Cybertron, if you weren't rich and high caste, school was closed to you. No matter your burning urge to learn or your talent, you were refused. Here it is mandatory, a huge proud topic of discussion among the genitors (parents) and something supported by all including bachelors who volunteer to help in the schools.

This place is incredibly clean. We are talking millions of citizens but there is not a scrap of litter to be found anywhere. I was told that they feel they have another chance to live the way they always wanted and they have great pride in their achievement. They maintain their environment because they love their colony. Simple as that.

The elderly and the young are given a lot of attention here. There are many places for elders to go and I have met the two little mechs (men) who play games in the courtyard of the Fortress. They are as funny and feisty in person as they seem to be on film. They will tell you in no uncertain terms that Megatron is a 'fragger', that Prime will 'frag' him and that the colony is the best 'slagging' place they have ever been including Cybertron.

The Soldiers: They are everywhere. Some of them even have part time jobs when they aren't doing their duty. There are forward bases as you know and they rotate in and out of them for their shifts. It makes things quick and easy. It also places soldiers where they are needed in the blink of an eye. They are veteran, humorous in the way of men of arms and formidable. From the football game, it is easy to deduce the level of combat that is necessary to battle someone of their race. I am personally very much okay that they are here. If they weren't, we would have to face Megatron and his army alone.

Think about it.

I have met some of the individual soldiers, some of whom represent illustrious, heavily fabled and decorated units. One of them is among the oldest of the soldiers surviving, "Old" Hercy. He is a small oddly quaint old fashioned-looking 'mechanism' as they call each other, but looks are deceiving. He is deadly, forgot more than entire armies know collectively and is hilarious. He is also nearly worshiped by the younger mechs (males) and with his good friend and student, the venerable formidable Kup, the best way to while an afternoon I have spent in ages. The Dai Atlas Dojo dedicated to the legendary leader of the Knights of Cybertron is the go-to place for happy hours (joors) spent talking to authentic genuine individuals who actually have things to tell you worth listening to.

The Wreckers: What more is there to say? Wrap Genghis Khan around the Texas Rangers, the Roman Army, the Aztecs, the Huns, the Visigoths and James Bond and you have the Wreckers. That much abused security head of the games is a mech named Springer. He leads the Wreckers as well as providing security for the entire planet and solar system. He is funny, confident, genuine and good company. So is his bond, Drift, a former Decepticon of terrible reputation who has 'seen the light' as they call it becoming a deadly Autobot special ops fighter.

You feel the genuineness from them that no one I ever met could begin to match. They are great company.

Space Bridges: We came here on a space bridge, that is, a device that can bend time and space sending you from one place to another in seconds. It doesn't matter how far away it is, they have that capability. Don't ask me about the science. It has something to do with the mathematics of black holes. One of the many things that is evident to me coming here … they are EXTREMELY kind in their patience with our ignorance.

There is so much more to say and I will. Today, I am going to be going to a New Year celebration begun on Earth at Diego Garcia among friends and allies. It began on a beach at Diego Garcia among a handful of refugee warriors and their hosts. They stood together in unity and brotherhood welcoming a new year and a new chance together.

I have never felt such unity before and such determination to preserve this moment and this possibility. I am so fortunate to be here. I will attempt through my prose, as inadequate as that may be to tell you about them and this place. More to come tonight.

It is as they say here, Until All Are One,

-Bob Costas, Sciences Habitat, Autobot City, Primal Colony of Mars

"You coming?"

Bob looked up at Keith Olbermann and Sue Barker. "You can't keep me away."

They suited up, went through the airlock with the others and once boarded, buzzed their segways to the special set aside area on the plaza of the Metroplex Administrative District. Crowds were gathering waiting for Optimus Prime and the area was wreathed in cameras both IntraComm and personal. They wove their way through the maze of legs and smirking mechanisms who glanced down at they did. When they reached the area they drove up the ramp settling themselves on the edge where the view was perfect.

Sometimes it paid to be small.

As they did, the crowd began to shift, some looking over their shoulders. Walking through the crowd, acknowledging and chatting with individuals, the Prime of Cybertron made his way. Standing at the back of the memorial on the plaza, a row of seven priests and ten acolytes stood waiting, their sweet expressions indicative of individuals who lived in the heart of love every orn.

The humans turned to watch the crowd part as if by magic. Walking toward them, taking the steps, Optimus Prime, the bearer of the Creation Matrix, the Autobot Matrix of Leadership, the Prime of Cybertron and Mars moved to take his place beside the only thing around the area that dwarfed him, the spear-like memorial. He nodded to the humans with a slight smile. They called out and waved back to him, the soldiers, their families, scientists, filmmakers and invited humans.

He paused looking at the memorial, then turned to face the multitudes that had gathered and the greater group watching on monitors all over the colony. He looked at the sky for a moment, their alien sky, then the enormous group before him. "I think it would be appropriate on this, the new year of the Terran calendar and Memorial Day on the Cybertronian to take a moment of silence for those who have died and those who are still missing."

His words echoed over the crowd, the airwaves on Mars and the broadcast reach of Earth. As the Cybertronians and humans of Mars and the numerous bases all over the system settled into a respectful silence, so also did the multitudes of humans on Earth.

-0-TBC January 11, 2014 edited 3-10-14