The Diego Diaries: Go 2 (637)
-0-On the ground
They gathered in the rec room off Ops Center waiting for orders to leave. Ironhide's group had just entered the debris field and found it a perfect place for ambush for the knowns and worse yet, the many unknowns that appeared on the sensors of their ships. The Seekers were entering together, banded groups with heavy gunner escort to map the area, linking themselves together as well as to the many ships behind them.
Initials reports indicated that the mass of debris that would be their lot in this entire sector was dense and in places intractable. More guns were needed since to Ironhide's point of view, there could never be enough.
Some stood in the doorway of the Ops Center, all of those group leaders while a number of the others wandered in and out of the Flight Center nearby, guns and gear in servos. Many sat with friends and family having a last chat before lift off. None of those mustering were anyone but the most veteran of the regular army. No one but the most handpicked of the Home Guard would come and they would be doing ship board security, not actual fighting.
Prowl walked out with Paragon to brief the leadership, then the mass turned calling for the others. Tense farewells met that as families hugged, friends bumped servos and soldiers gathered their gear. It was a long walk to the ships, all of them the deadly fast Wrecker-specific battle shuttles that had been designed for the combat that was shaping up for the mission.
The din at the airfield was massive as ten more battleshuttles lifted off heading for the Trigger. They would be sent through to Fort Apache to be dispatched from there as needed. The dust would settle slowly on the tarmac as they disappeared into the sky. Their families and friends would be slow dispersing as they stood watching them go.
-0-Ironhide
He sat watching the screen ahead as the mass of dead planets and living comets began to accrete. It was a dirty fighter's paradise he thought. Anyone could be hiding behind anything. He glanced at his sensor station. "Dev, do we have any idea where the migration is in this mess?"
"I am unclear," Dev said with a slight frown. Given the level of precision with which he lived his life and did his work, he hated to even voice those words. "I am wondering, Ironhide, if it would be a reasonable idea to send out a message in a wide band spray. That way they can know we are here and the slaggers will be put on notice." He turned to look at the silent figure in the command chair. "It's not like they don't know the migration is there. Of course, if we did have anonymity so far which is debatable it would be lost."
Ironhide nodded. "I know. There is also the fact that if they think we want them, they might make a grab. But then, if they're chasing the migration and know about it, they are already preparing for a grab even if they know we're here. Slaggers are slaggers, the fraggers."
Dev smirked slightly. "Truer words never spoken."
Ironhide with a smirk of his own turned to Communications. "Hound, open a channel to Red Wing."
"You got it, Ironhide," Hound said glancing Ironhide's direction. "You are online":
"Red Wing."
:Red 1 here: a calm voice replied.
"Red, what is your take on sending a message to the migration to let them know we are here? Some here have mentioned the benefits and some the deficits. What do you think?"
There was a pause, then the calm voice was back. :I believe they know we are here. It won't cause anything to cease that is already in progress. We have no advantage in stealth. It might back some of them off:
"What is the danger to you on point if any in your assessment?" Ironhide asked.
There was a pause. :I don't believe there will be any more or less danger than now. It might make the less strong among them think twice:
"Very well," Ironhide said as he glanced toward Hound. "Open the channel, Hound. I will make a message." He glanced at the screen with Prime's image. "Did you listen in?"
"I did. I concur. Let them know we are coming and bringing all the firepower it takes," Optimus said with a nod.
Ironhide nodded, then gathered his thoughts. "Cybertronian migration, this is Ironhide, Master of the Autobot Armed Forces. I am here to help rescue your parties and bring them to safety. I am aware that there are a number of fraggers around and alongside of you that want to do you harm. I am stating in the name and authority of the Prime of Cybertron that if anyone attacks, boards, slows, detains or otherwise impedes your journey to safety I will personal frag them to the Pit. If you are not part of this migration, identify yourself to me."
It was silent a moment, the soft crackling of ambient space the only sound. Then a voice broke the silence. "Frag you, Ironhide."
-0-Ops Centers all over the hell and gone
Blackjack and Alor sat in the new Ops Center at Camp Gliese, a temporary structure that was constructed to allow the Supremes to return to Mars and other duties. Around them bots worked, their focus on the sound of the voice over the comm speakers. "I don't recognize that voice, 'Jack."
Blackjack nodded. "Nor do I, Ali. I wonder if Ironhide does?"
Flint stood by the communications station at Fort Apache listening to the conversation even as he watched the milling dots indicating a number of ships bursting into his space from the Trigger. He had no idea who the slagger was but he seemed to know his nephew. / … frag him to the Pit, Ironhide …/
Turning, he walked to the door to go outside and supervise the landing of ten shuttles and their crews. It would be dusty, orderly and all of them would be on standby to go at a moment's notice. None of them would leave their shuttles during this interrum.
Flash stood with his lieutenant, a Seeker named Blue in the Ops Center at Fort Cybertron. They were almost as far away from the forming lines of combat as Camp Gliese but none the less important for it. They were on alert to watch for any interference from Soundwave, then put a block on whatever he would do. The camp was formidable and well armed. The force there were veteran Seekers and regular army Autobots and former Decepticons. If Soundwave tried to venture their way he would pay for it dearly. All they could do was watch and wait. Of all the garrisons that were settled here and there in space, Gliese and Cybertron would be the only ones that would not rise to suppport the mission.
They were too important to abandon their positions no matter how it turned out with Ironhide's group.
-0-Ironhide
"Identify yourself, slagger," Ironhide demanded.
"I am Trannis."
Ironhide considered that a moment, then glanced at Devcon. Dev turned and began to search through the databases. "That's interesting. You're dead, you fragger."
A dry chuckle greeted that. "You're as gullible as ever."
Ironhide frowned at the insult. "If I believe you're alive and I don't … what are you doing here?"
"Making an honest living, fragger," the voice replied. "What can you expect when the Decepticons don't keep their word? I wish I could describe the hurt that I felt when Straxus tried to slag me."
"The Wreckers slagged you, fragger," Ironhide replied.
"No. They tried but they failed too," the voice said. "What are you doing out here giving me a hard time, Ironbutt? You want a shot at me too?"
Dev turned to Ironhide. "He should be dead but he isn't, the fragger. He's not been seen a long time but the few odd remarks I found in the database concern those who thought they saw him leading a renegade group of 'Cons and refuse. None of the sightings were confirmed. They were just reported here and there."
Ironhide nodded. "We're coming for the migration. If you move out of the area and allow us to take the civilians to safety you will be doing a service to our people."
"That doesn't pay as well as taking the migration ourselves. We would require a big incentive to leave here," the voice said.
Ironhide made a slashing movement over his throat so Hound cut the sound broadcast. Prime who had been talking to Prowl and Paragon turned back to Ironhide. "I am on my way."
Ironhide nodded to Prime, then nodded as well to Hound. The channel became open again. "What do you want, slagger?" he asked as he wasted time. Prime would walk to the ship from the Trigger. It would only take seconds. Then he and his Prime would work this out together.
-0-Ratchet
He sat in the Ops Center listening with the others to the exchanges. Prime had left for the Trigger arriving there from the smaller bridge in the lower level beneath Ops Center. He would exit through the ship bridge on the Salton Sea, a device that all military ships even shuttles carried as standard equipment now that the greatest bridge experts in their species history were recovered from the migrations. Between them, talented physicists on staff and mathmatically inclined younglings with great ideas working in Sciences, they had retrieved what had been standard for ships in their past. They would slag it out with him ped to ped in real time.
-0-Salton Sea
Prime walked onto the ship through the ground bridge that ended in the ship bridge room, then paused. A youngling Home Guard mech greeted him. "This way, sir," he said unaware that Prime already knew. Optimus nodded, then followed the youngling who was tense, earnest and on the ball. When he reached Ops Center he walked to stand beside Ironhide who rose from the chair. "If this is Trannis, Springer owes me a drink."
Prime nodded. "It could be worse. It could be Straxus."
Ironhide snorted, then nodded. "Both of them are fraggers."
"You won't get an argument from me," Prime said turning to Hound. "Open the channel."
Hound complied.
"This is Optimus Prime. Who is this speaking? Trannis was killed."
A harsh laugh greeted that. "Hi, Prime! Word of my demise is grossly exaggerated. What brings you out here?"
"I am here for the migration. We are going to bring them out of here to our colony. If you disagree or try to interfere, we will kill you."
"Now that isn't neighborly, Prime. What kind of greeting is that for you to give to me? After all, I was a big deal once upon a time. I am again. I command a big force and I'm not afraid to use it," he said with a great deal of satisfaction.
Prime considered that, then glanced at Hound. "Put him on screen."
An adjustment along with a request was met with the image of a very big grim looking bot. He sat on a throne Decepticon style and glared at Prime whose image went along with the request. He looked smug and dangerous. Behind him in the command module of what looked like a big ship mechs were working at their stations. "You do understand don't you, Prime that any slagging that is done here will be brutal on the civilians. Your big ships, and I heard you have them will not be helpful here."
"You will stand down and allow the civilians to pass by. They have nothing that you need. If any one of them are harmed I will personally pull you limb from limb." Prime sat back with a grim expression of his own.
"You might want to know, slaggers, that he killed The Fallen and Megatron with his bare servos. That doesn't discount the Decepticon Justice Division either," Ironhide said as he stood next to Prime.
"No. Megatron's dead? That's news to me. I heard he's slagging around in the Delta Quadrant. He and that half wit son of his," Trannis said. "As for The Fallen and the Decepticon Justice Division … I will believe it when I see evidence."
:Send him the images: Prime said as he stared unwaveringly at the big mech on screen.
"Send the images, Hound," Ironhide said glancing at Communications. Hound did, the dozens of images including autopsy photos making their way forward.
Trannis sat forward staring at the images, all of them gory and clearly specific. He stared, then sat back. "Nice. I was on the list. I owe you one, Prime." He looked at Ironhide, then smirked. "You have doubled my pleasure. When I get done pulling Ironhide's helm off I will be happy to slag you too, Prime." He then cut the transmission.
"Frag," Ironhide said quietly. Optimus merely nodded silently.
-0-TBC February 28, 2014 edited 3-13-14
Trannis exists, the bum. He was killed but no one ever really dies in my universe. LOL! We can't waste a good villain because of canon.