The Diego Diaries: Go (619)
-0-America
They were let out of the car near the towns from which they had been gathered. They were aware of their surroundings and where they needed to go. When they got there, they would know everyone and everything that they had to say and do. What they wouldn't tell anyone was where they were for the two months that most of them had disappeared. Looking around, John Baker began to hitchhike and as he did he rehearsed the story he would tell.
He had fallen off his four wheeler hitting his head. He had forgotten who he was until just now and was heading for home. He knew they would ask questions and scan him from stem to stern. They would find out that he was a human, possessed the DNA and dental profile of the missing man he was created to replace and was not only capable of maintaining the charade but destined.
He was born in a test tube, grown in a bubbling water bath, the end result of the twisted hatred of Jhiaxus and Shockwave's perversions of science. He would do what he was commanded and when the time came that he had no further value he would stand compliantly as he was eviscerated.
The sun was warming the cool of the early morning when a pick up truck pulled up to let him in. It pulled out heading for town and the reunion of a facsimile avatar with his 'family'.
-0-Out there
A small tense migration came across territory that was filled with menace. They were coming from a new direction, three colonies that had been left alone long enough that they had forged a new identity. They were Wanderers, a group of Cybertronians that had been cut off from their own kind for eons, traveling in ships that carried their families and the skills they offered to whomever they met. They had never been one to stay long on the ground. Their kind weren't welcome in too many places. Prudence called for constant travel.
As it stood, they had heard the call from Prime and even Starscream. Weary of the worsening conditions around them, of species warning them off before they even could land because of the pirates that had begun to plague the local sectors, they fled ever onward. Every port of call, even those they had always been welcomed to visit were off limits. Roving bands of pirates, different groups of Decepticon raiders looking for new sources of energon for their master, Megatron and outlaws who threw their allegiance to no one had blackened the name of Cybertron everywhere.
"Wherever you lot go, death follows!"
"We don't want your kind here and if you ever come back we will kill you!"
They had nowhere to go unless they crossed a great deal of interstellar space into the great unknown. Despair had been their lot until the call filtered its way their direction. A meeting of the council that ruled their existence concluded that they should make their way toward it. Even if they didn't feel Cybertronian particularly, even if the eons of separation had thrown a shadow on their sense of themselves, there would be other Cybertronians there and perhaps they would be safe and welcome.
Maybe the myths about the Primes would be true. Maybe Optimus Prime would actually live up to what they had come to believe was the way of his kind. Maybe he would save them from despair.
They moved through space in their habitat ships heading toward a nondescript star in a small solar system on the outside arm of a spiral galaxy. Not very prepossessing to those who lived in space for their entire exile but better than dying in a fussilade of fire given to them without mercy from others, even their own kind. Hope drew them onward, despair fled them as they inched ever closer. It would be soon, they ventured. Soon, they would be with Optimus Prime.
-0-At dinner time in the old homestead
The infants had been gathered, the adults making sure that they were in servo. After raiding his own genitor's house and that of Alors', Ratchet managed to put two tables in nice places with enough chairs for every adult coming. He considered that. Blackjack and the twins would be back to dine because they were off duty shifts. They would return of course afterward but that was secondary to The Plan.
Springer and Drift were already here and had humped the tables and chairs for their old Ada (in-law) placing them around the tables in the huge open living room and kitchen/dining room of the apartment. After a lot of snark, they stepped out to do 'this and that' before the 'shindig'.
Ratchet went down the list in his processor. Ironhide and Ratchet, Springer and Drift, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Bluestreak, Alor, Blackjack, Flint, Ravel, Tie Down and Appa Ratchet were the adults. There would be eight infants but they would be fed before hand. A pile of blocks and finger food would take care of them.
Hopefully.
After considering how inadequate his place settings were, he walked to Alor's apartment and his genitors to secure the required dishware and cutlery for thirteen adults. Putting them on the table, he pretended to not notice how they didn't match.
/... its the thought that counts … slaggers …/
Turning, he began to prepare the food that needed the most fixing, then put some of it in the warmer next to the stove for safekeeping. Turning, looking at the pretty sight before him, he grinned. "Ha! I, Ratchet of Iacon can cook."
-0-Germany, Ireland and Turkey
More facsimile avatars arrived nearby the homes where they lived. These were the trial run of the main show. If these figures were able to pass without too much detection then it would signal the beginning of an infiltration protocol, the replacement of humans by avatars to facilitate the downfall of the entire world. None of them occupied places of authority great or small but wars needed minions and for that they were perfectly placed.
-0-Din-Din
They came with infants, smiles bright and laughter constant. After a moment or two to feed the babies and younglings, they began to gather around the table to sit and eat themselves. Heaping bowls of vegetables, salad, huge wedges of corn bread with something called 'honey butter' to spread on it, mounds of potatoes, bowls of gravy and in two different places, two fully cooked chickens waited for someone to eat them. Bottles of beer were ready to pass around along with big pots of the Cybertronian version of coffee and tea.
They sat marveling at the bounty, then all optics turned to Ratchet. He sat inordinately pleased at the proceedings thus far. Then he looked at all of them. "Okay! Who wants to say grace?!" he asked with enormous enthusiasm. A momentary pause was had, then Ratchet got all the slag and snark he could ever want. Grinning, he nodded. "Eat up, you slaggers."
They did. Food circulated around the table, drinks were poured, elders taken care of as around them infants circled, curious and interested after getting their second wind food wise. Orion paused beside Springer. Staring up at him, he gave his oldest newest brother the biggest smile he had. Springer, beer bottle poised halfway to his mouth looked down. A tiny version of Ironhide was staring up at him with twinkling optics and the biggest smile he had ever seen a Cybertronian face attempt.
It was then that Orion's pie hole opened like the black hole of Calcutta.
-0-Club Cybertron
They sat at a table drinking, talking about things that mattered as they watched a game on the teevee. They had come in the last migration that had included Decepticons. They were 'Con soldiers themselves, mechs who had joined for adventure and the opportunity to fight. Their migration had included the now defunct Decepticon Justice Division. It was a source of disagreement in their ranks whether that was a good or bad thing. All of them were at some point of their thinking delighted that the psychotic predators had been killed. What rankled was that Autobots had done the killing.
They watched civilians and the odd Autobot enjoy themselves as a band played soft music nearby. There were couples dancing, two individuals laughing at the bar nearby while the dining room was nearly filled with families and couples with friends. It was a nice evening, quiet and easy, like so many others. It wasn't to be this time.
-0-Pie Hole
He stood with his mouth wide open like a baby bird. Drift who sat next to Springer looked down, then chuckled. "Put something in that thing before he hurts himself."
Springer looked at his plate, then chose a nice morsel. Turning, he popped it into Orion's mouth. It snapped shut like a crocodile. He hugged himself tightly, then danced on his feet, hopping from one foot to the other while standing in one place. With a giant smile, he turned hopping off to another. He would be back once more until his infinite belly tanks were sufficiently filled.
Drift and Springer had learned rule number one of reproducing: You never, ever, ever, never stopped being a parent.
Ever.
-0-At the Club
He sat with his group grumping. He was working at a construction site building new towers in the seven city configuration that would house close to five million of their fellows once all of the upward and outward building was in place. It was easier than some of the jobs in the 'Cons and the bosses were magnitudes better but something in him wouldn't be rested. Something wouldn't give up rabble rousing. The others, no prize themselves half the time noticed. "What's up with you?" one of them asked.
He looked at them, then sat back with exasperation. "I want to do something. I'm bored."
"My old mech never allowed us to use that word. He said if you were bored it was your own fault," another said.
He glared at the speaker, then rose. "Frag your old man." He looked around, then at the mechs sitting at the table. "I want some fun. Who's with me?"
They looked at him, then others in the room. "Sit down and stop before you frag off the Matrix."
"The Matrix. Frag the Matrix," he said.
Conversations nearby paused as mechs turned to look at the speaker who glared back at them. He looked at his fellows. "Frag you and frag the Matrix. I don't believe in it. I don't believe in that superstition one bit and anyone who does is a loser. Prime uses that as a control. He wants us docile. He wants us working on his projects. I don't believe the Matrix does anything."
The mechs at his table stared at him with growing unease. One of them rose, then drained his drink. "I gotta go. See ya around," he said as he turned to leave.
"WHAT'S THE MATTER!?" the mech who was named Alco called out. "ARE YOU AFRAID I'LL BLOW UP AND KILL YOU?"
The mech halted. Then he walked back pausing by the table. "You're drunk. The Matrix will kill you if you break the oath. What is the matter with you? This place is easy. You can do what you want. Don't be stupid."
"Frag you." Alco grinned. "You can be stupid and you can be Prime's tool but I'm not going to be. Frag you and Prime and the Matrix!" he said, his voice rising.
Everyone in the club had paused to look at the spectacle in the lounge. The table filled with mechs was extremely uneasy, some of them rising to their feet. One of them, a big older mech punched Alco's arm. "You had better stop. You don't frag with the Matrix. You made an oath to it. You're asking for a slagging."
"Who says?" Alco said turning to face him.
"Everyone, always. Everywhere. Its the Matrix. It can't be fragged with, Alco. You're committing suicide doing this," another mech said as he stepped closer to the table.
It was at that moment that three Night Watch mechs entered the Club having been called by the staff. They paused by the door to watch and listen. As they did, the mech began to come apart at the seams.
-0-At the trough
They sat around the room, a few still at the table eating celebration cake and sipping more beer. Tea and 'coffee' were handed out by the host(ess) with the most(est), Ratchet. It had gone well. The food was great, the company more than acceptable and the infants had managed to snack, play, then snack some more. Right now, it was kickback time with dessert highlights. Sitting on a chair, Ratchet grinned at his plate with a large slice of colorful cake with its thick black frosting.
Springer paused a fork halfway to his mouth, listening to something internally. His expression became grave, his posture straightening. He looked at Ratchet. "We have to go," he said rising. Drift rose too, the pair walking to the table to put their dessert down. Then they paused. "Ratchet, we have to go."
Ratchet rose, then shook his helm. "Frag," he said as he followed the two out the door. For a moment no one moved, then everyone did. By the time all of the soldiers were gone, only Ravel and Tie Down were left. Tie glanced at Appa Ratchet who was sitting in comfort on Ratchet's red chair. "Well, look what we get," he said.
"All these lovely babies," Appa Ratchet said with a smile. He sat forward and began to feed bites of cake to the half moon of infants standing around his chair, their faces filled with joy and frosting.
-0-Outside
They hurried along the street heading for the Club around which a large group had congregated. Moving through them, Ratchet in tow, Springer and Drift reached the door. They entered, pausing to look around. A table nearby was the focal point. A number of stunned mechs sat, their faces showing shock and surprise. Three Night Watch mechs including the substation shift commander were standing around a body. The staff watched as Drift, Springer and Ratchet came further into the room.
Ratchet stepped around the two, then knelt beside the body. "Oh frag," he said as he stared at the completely dead body of someone who had made a very bad, very unforgiving decision.
-0-TBC February 11, 2014 edited 3-11-14
NOTES:
Guest, Maraluch, Leoness, Magebreaker, Lockdownthegunner: Thank you for the great notes. I think humor mixed with drama makes the medicine go down. :D Leoness, that blanket sounds awesome. Anything with an Autobrand is great. I have one on the back of my copper colored Element. My sister says it transforms into a toaster. :D:D:D
The slagger.
Magebreaker: They are with another family. Ratchet just knows that the two drive some of the senior officers nuts. :D I like them in some sort of odd ball way. I think they mean well but are sort of young and untrained, family missing for the formative years. I also have come to love Bayverse Wheelie and Brains. :D
PAN: the tale of Smokey is going to heat up again. :D ;D Nothing like young love or as my sister is so fond of say, "The mating rituals of the young and stupid." LOL!
Hugs to all who wrote and read this. Take care out there in the weird weather.