NOTE: BWAHAHA! Thank you, Guest. :D I had a twinge about Smokey in 627 that it might be a boo boo but I couldn't find it in the story. I am putting this on WriteItNow4 which will allow me to click a character and get the 411 but this thing is so big it will take a while to put it all there. :D I am going to let 627 stand and go back to fix the other part that you told me about. Thank you, honey. You are worth your weight in gold. :D Readers Rool!
-0-Let's rumble …
The Diego Diaries: New 3 (628)
-0-End of shift, on the way out
Gravity walked from work heading for home. He had picked up some of his favorite takeout. His genitors weren't going to be home. They had a party to go to. He had nothing. All he had was a slight paranoia and uncertainty about what he believed and wanted now that the world and all he thought he knew was upside down. He knew that the Watch probably understood he was one of the bombers and it would only be a matter of time before they could prove it.
Or not.
It was like a lead sinker in his tanks to think about it. Maybe he didn't have to. Maybe they had gotten a pass with this one. Commotion was dead. Sio was incarcerated and had been moved to the new processor health facility that could house those who had mental problems. He hadn't seen it but Default had...
Default stood on a corner waiting for the lights to change on Temple near the Hospital in Metroplex District. A big new facility located nearby that was three stories tall had just been opened. Its name was on the outside in big copper glyphs … Autobot City Processor Health Hospital and Day Facility. As he stood waiting Default noted a vehicle arrive, one that was armored and security in nature. As he stood drawn to the sight, the doors opened and a pair of security mechs stepped out. After them came Sio. He was wearing restraints on his wrists and looked intensely angry.
One of the security officers took his arm to guide him into the building. Sio jerked at the touch prompting the other officer to grab his free arm. Sio began to swear and yell as he struggled against them but it was in vain. He disappeared inside, an inmate it would seem in an asylum. It was disturbing and frightening. The lights changed twice before he noticed and continued onward.
It was a short conversation, one that had told of what he had seen. Gravity was not surprised. The news had talked about the facility, one with a need considering the condition of some of the refugees. The high caste population talked about it as if it were a tool of the 'regime' to use to imprison dissenters. Like that never happened on Cybertron he thought with a wince.
He continued onward heading for home and the protection of the walls of his genitors' home. It was one of the few places where he felt completely safe, his genitors' apartment and the Temple.
-0-Residence
Prowl put her gently down, then covered her little format with a soft light green blanket. She was recharging, her tiny optics off-line, her tiny body relaxed in sleep. He grinned, then turned to walk out. The infants had finished dinner, homework and were horsing around like happy children do. The cat, the one Rambler wanted for Christmas Surprise, Miss Kitty was pawing at pieces on their board game, an action that brought enormous laughter from the little mechs.
Pausing to inspect the immaculate condition of his kitchen and dining room like the uptight slagger that he was, he finally walked to his chair to sit. Optimus who was reading datapads in the next one over glanced up. "How do you feel?"
"Great." Prowl took several and looked at them. "We have to retrieve the small migration shortly. They are going to be the question mark. Slacker and Cyclonus will be put to the test."
Optimus nodded. "They will. There will be the X factor of the other pirates and marauders out there. We will be prepared for them. I am wondering how prepared Slacker and Cyclonus will be."
"Or are. They are out there now too," Prowl said with a nod.
They sat going over the datapads working out solutions and making plans. It was what they did. On the floor nearby and in another room, the center of their existence played games or recharged without a care.
-0-Around town
He sat playing cards and drinking his favorite label. He was a high caste mech who liked the lower classes. He had spent a lot of time in the slums of Iacon learning street smarts Cybertronian style. He was the son of Burris, a mech being held in the lock up for his actions during the journey here. His father was a mech who had an entitlement problem.
He himself had learned that there was more to life than the materialism of the world his father had mastered. That world had as many shackles as the others that occupied the stratified world of Cybertron. The food and accommodations were better but the rules were a royal pain in the aft. He had been smart enough to keep up appearances but he didn't have any truck with the System with its social, cultural and economic slavery.
He watched as high caste friends walked into the club heading over to sit with him. Club Hoyle was the homebase of a number of different 'factions' in the city, some of them high caste, others not so much. He was part of the not so much group. He also was friends with a lot of others which sort of put him in the catbird seat.
"Hi." They pulled chairs and sat. "You playing?" one of them asked.
He nodded, then began to deal. Today was his time off from work and he liked to touch base now and again with the others, friends of his lifetime as well as areas here and there around the Diaspora. Food and drinks were ordered as they antied up, some of them drawing from the account meter on the wall nearby.
"Ante up, boys," he said with a grin. "I'm going to kick your aft."
"You can dream, Bezel," another mech said with a grin. "You coming to the party later?"
"At the hall?" Bezel asked.
"Yeah. Everyone is going to be there. Lots of good-looking mechs," the youngling replied.
"I already have one," he said tossing his chips into the pot. "Cards?"
Several did, then they settled in to strategize their hands. They played a couple of rounds, Bezel winning one and losing two. He sat back watching as someone else dealt.
"You're missing a lot of fun," a youngling said. "Lots of bots are asking about you. They think you've gone soft. No one gets it."
"You don't get it either," Bezel replied. "I don't expect nor do I care if anyone does. I don't want the old life. I don't find it fun or interesting. Don't you wonder if you have what it takes to do things on your own? To make it to the top because you're good enough to be there and not because of who your old mech was?"
They looked at him, then grinned. "No," was the general response.
"What do you talk about with them? What do they have that is even interesting?" another asked.
Bezel looked at him, then shook his helm. "Everything," he replied.
The conversation continued as they played cards, bitched about things all younglings bitched about as the evening wore onward.
-0-At the Central Labor Council Hall
They finalized the plan for the funeral that would take place the following day. They would be bearing the body of the mech who had broken his oath conveying him to his final resting place in the Mausoleum. They had a stone carved to place over the top of his grave which was already dug out. He would be carried there, words would be spoken, then he would be slid down into the hole to stand for all eternity with others who were as unlucky as him.
They had taken his body and planned the funeral for him because he had no family here. Word had gone out that all former Decepticons who could manage should come. Several others got formal invitations to come because they were borderline slaggers and needed an object lesson. It would begin from here and walk through the city to the Mausoleum before noon. It would take a while but it would make the point needed. Break your oath to Prime, hurt his feelings. Break your oath to the Matrix, prepare to pay large.
Nitro and Rampage, Revo and Scar finished wrapping the body in a white cloth shroud. They placed it on the stretcher, then covered it with the Cybertronian flag. It had lain in state in the Former Decepticon Hall off the Central Labor Hall since being released by the Morgue. Tomorrow, it would make its final journey.
They finished up, then walked to the door turning off the lights. Walking onward, they returned to the world of the living who were waiting for them at home.
-0-Later that night
Club Hoyle was busy as the evening clientele began to arrive. Games were going around the room, some younglings were dancing while others were eating and drinking. It was like any other night in the place. When the fight broke out it was nearly midnight. A table erupted as younglings reared up to slag it out.
Mechs began to beat the crap out of each other. He leaned into the bar dodging a number of bottles as the mayhem began in earnest. He ducked, then heard them coming, the Watch mechs whom the bartender had summoned. They burst through the door, then dived on a couple of mechs who were going at it on the floor. They swarmed them, then stood dragging the pair up.
The racket going out the door was huge, but then it began to fade. Three other Watch mechs came through the door pausing by the bar. Everyone in the room was staring at the mess, then the security mechs. Turning to right tables and chairs, they gathered themselves to sit and continue. It got normal very quickly.
Bezel leaned against the bar, then grinned at a Watch mech. "Hi."
The mech grinned back. "Hi. Should I cuff you?" he said softly, stepping closer to Bezel.
"Later," Bezel said with a grin and a wink. "When do you get off?"
"In a joor. Come on and walk my beat with me," Lon said as he turned back to the door and his job beyond.
Bezel grinned, then followed. They would walk the rest of Lon's shift, then eat breakfast at The Pit Stop with the rest of the Night Watch enduring the usual teasing from the older mechs including Springer and Drift. It would be the end of a fine orn for both.
-0-In the bosom of love about 3 a.m.
"Ada?"
The soft sound of a tiny femme whispering into his audials didn't alert Ratchet to her presence. Hero stood with her favorite blanket and dollie. She stood beside the berth listening to the silence as Ada and Atar slept onward. She was needful of a cuddle. She couldn't recharge and no one was awake.
She turned and looked around. Then she walked out dragging her blankie behind her. No one was up. She walked to the window looking out. Planes came and went. Light pooled around poles pushing back the night. Looking around the room, she walked to Atar's Kitchen Cupboard. Looking inside, she managed to pull a cookie of indeterminate type out of a bag. She bit it, then spit it out. Looking at it, she put it back in the bag like a nice girl, then shut the cupboard.
Looking around, she walked to the door and pushed on it. It didn't give. There was no one up, there was no where to go, there was nothing to do. She was stymied. Walking back to the berth room, she reached up and gripped the bed. Standing up on her tiny tip toes, she peered at her ada. Ratchet was sawing logs like there was no tomorrow.
Frowning, she looked around. Walking out, she looked into her berth room. No one was there either. Turning, she walked to Sunspot's room. Pausing by the edge of the big berth, she looked up. Spot was looking down. She smiled. Then he leaned down and took her by the helm gently pulling her up to the berth.
She sat sputtering, looking at Spot with uncertainty. He licked her face and she fell backward landing on her helm. Spot looked down, then took her arm gently pulling her back up. She sat beside him, then glanced down. Her dollie and blankie were on the ground. Sliding down, she threw them back up, then looked at Spot. He looked at her, then lay down to recharge.
She stood looking up without a blankie and dollie. Staring for a moment uncertain what to do, she let loose a tiny weep. Nothing happened. Turning with a quivering chin, she walked out suddenly feeling terribly alone. Walking to her genitor's berth room, she paused by the berth. "Ada?"
Nothing.
"Ada?"
Nothing.
"Sniffle."
She looked around, then walked to the closet nearby lying down on a spare pillow that had fallen off the shelf. Curling up, she lay there until she fell asleep. No one would notice where she was the next morning but they would have a terrifying few moments running around tearing up the place until they found her.
It was just the way you wanted to start a day with a funeral.
Two funerals to be exact.
-0-TBC February 18, 2014 :D edited 3-11-14