The Diego Diaries: Gone (646)
-0-Out there
They were cramped on the ship that had picked them up, a type they had not seen before. The aliens that flew it were obviously smaller and apparently shy. They were crammed into a hold and there was no greeting party. The ship was gathering speed which they could feel through the hull. Sandstorm was quiet now, coming in and out of sentience with no sense of where he was. Lon and Smokey were spotted with burns, their optics filled with anxiety even as their bodies reflected their determination.
"This is tight," Hercy said moving slightly for Springer.
"No one seems to be in the mood for talking," Kup said glancing around the big room, one that was rendered smaller by their over sized presence. "Good thing we all could fit."
No one disagreed.
-0-Out there as well
He stood on a planetoid staring at marks in the dirt. They were strange ones, tracks he had never seen before. They had been gathered, a group speaking or whatever their species did collectively. There were strange prints that were mixed into markings that could only have been left by chains. He considered that, then sent the images to Salton Sea. Waiting, he received a priority return message from Teletraan on board.
"Species: Known. Number 4632-12F, Files 1-242, Intelligence Files/Encrypted, Optics Only/Restricted Access-Secret Above Secret. Name: Unknown. Organic, predatory, size range on average 8-10 feet/2.5-3.0 meters in height, weight ranging from 250-400 pounds. Estimation that they can be larger placed at 87% possible. Musculature: highly developed. Distinguishing features: mandibles in mouth area that seem to be part of their speech ability, fleshy dreadlocks emanating from around the crown of their head from temple around the back side to temple, a hard skull with horn-like features rimming the edges, skin tones pale yellow and green to darker browns, blacks and grays. In some environments, they appear to affect masks for survival. They are immensely strong, can cloak with primitive technology that allows them to bend light to appear invisible. It is a generated affect. They hunt others for prey including sentient beings and collect body parts for trophies. It is a strong possibility that they have a treaty or agreement of some sort with Megatron. See Ratchet, Wheeljack and Perceptor for more detailed information about their physicality. See Jazz and Elita-1 for more information on their habits, fighting ability and their species' companions. They are a wandering predatory species with an ethos that does not take into account the right of others to be left alone. There also appears but is not confirmed that there are two major kindreds of this species, one more predatory than the others. Teletraan on standby for more input."
Devcon considered that, then thought about the area through which they traveled. Organics thrived on worlds with atmosphere and heat. A star would be a logical place to go. There were a number of brown dwarfs but they were farther away and these tracks were relatively fresh. Somewhere nearby was a place where these aliens were and he would track them down. Rising, he nodded to the Seekers who had stood by watching. He jogged to his shuttle as the Seekers lifted off. When he had as well, they formed up again and disappeared into the night time of space.
-0-On a ship at the same time
Hound turned to Prime. "We have a scent, Prime. The ships going this direction match the propulsion signatures of the ships bearing Trannis. There are a lot of others."
"How many?" Optimus asked.
"I would say no more than 100 give or take 10. I would suggest that most of those are the transports of the civilians. None of them appear to be bigger than a shuttle with a top complement capability of 15-25 individuals. It is probably less than that for many."
Prime nodded. "That is during normal times. I would imagine the figures are greater given the situation. We should be looking at between a low figure of 2,500 and a high one of more than 4,000. When we find them we had better be ready for anything. I know Trannis and he is not one to be concerned about the lives of the hostages."
"I remember him," Ironhide said as he sat across the table from Prime. "He's a stone cold killer."
Prime nodded. The ship continued onward into the night.
-0-In a jail cell on Mars
He stood at the bars looking down the corridor of cells to the doorway beyond. There were others in cells as well, none of which he knew personally. They sat or lay on berths watching him.
"Relax. They come when they want to," one of them said.
Hadrian looked at him going through the math as ever. Low caste, hard work his lot, no one of consequence. But he was. He had information. Hadrian turned to him and the other two in the next cell. "Have you been here long?"
"Since the beginning," the one mech said as he equally appraised the new guy. High caste, looked soft, fragger. "Why?"
"I want to know how this place works. I want to know things about the population and what goes on here," Hadrian said turning to sit on the berth in his cell.
"So you can take over?" one of the two in the next cell said. He was a mini-con which made him no one of any consequence to Hadrian. Mini-cons were machinery and thus disposable when their usefulness was over.
"I want to know for my own curiosity. I have not seen a city this large since Cybertron," Hadrian replied.
They considered him, then the one mech sat up. "This is a good place. I live here and work at the Industrial City. Guess what I get to do."
Hadrian considered that. "I don't know."
"I'm a millwright." He grinned a moment. "I get to be a millwright. Imagine if this were Cybertron … do you think that would be possible?" he asked peering at Hadrian closely.
"I don't know," Hadrian said truthfully.
"It wouldn't have happened. I would be stuck in my caste and there would be no way I could get out of it to apprentice for this job. I have an aptitude for machinery. I always knew it but it was never allowed. I was slated to be a steel mill drone like all the mechs in my family and all that I can do now would never have been utilized. How much productivity and possibility do you suppose we have lost over the eons because of that?"
Hadrian looked at him for a moment. "It was all done for a reason."
"It wasn't. I suppose that's how you justify the poverty and hunger your caste created. Tradition. I heard that the Quintessans began the System to enslave us and your caste kept it going when they were defeated. Your collaborator caste."
Hadrian looked at him, then shrugged. "You would think I was the one who was responsible for this."
"No. But you didn't stop it. This place has no caste system. We work at what we want. What are you doing now, Hobo?" he asked of one of the mini-cons in the next cell.
Hobo sat up and grinned. "I make donuts. I'm a baker."
The three laughed. The other mini-con grinned at Hadrian. "I'm a pharmacist's assistant. When I graduate from University with a pharmacist's degree Ratchet wants me to work in the hospital dispensary. He asked me himself," Max, the third stranger said. "I will be the first mini-con pharmacist in the colony and the first graduate from University in my family. My sparklings will go too. I want them to have whatever they want."
Hobo nodded. "We get to do that here. We have a good place to live, we work hard … there's football and sports. Schools for all of our kids … even the priests in the Temple agree that this is the way we should live." Hobo stood up and walked to the bars. He grinned. "Did you ever know Templar, Vraz, Eronus and Gravitas?"
"Of course," Hadrian said nodding.
"They're Temple priests now. They were so ashamed they began the Temple digging it out with their bare servos. They became acolytes and now they get to be priests. Neo is a teacher and aide in the schools. She takes care of sparklings. My sparklings too," Hobo said.
"And mine," Max said.
"We live in high caste apartments in the Tri-Cities. All of us do. No one gets better than anyone else. This is a good place. The System has no room here," the first, a mech named Pet-R said. "We are four million strong nearly. We live together, civilian Neutrals, Autobots, Decepticons and Seekers. All of us are fighting for the same thing. Peace and safety for our families and the death of Megatron and his threat."
"Why are you in here?" Hadrian asked.
The two mini-cons grinned. "Bachelor party for my brother. Blurr had us towed away because we were towed away. He doesn't like anyone messing up his bar. You know … Macaddam's Old Oil House?"
Hadrian nodded. "Sentinel Prime used to go there all the time."
"When he wanted to slum you mean," Hobo said with a smirk. "It was more fun with us accidentally than it was with you lot on purpose. We will get out when the magistrate's court convenes in a few minutes."
"What about you?" Hadrian asked looking at Pet-R.
He shrugged. "I had an argument with a mech from the old neighborhood. We were ..."
"Wasted?" Hobo offered with a grin.
Pet-R grinned. "We were. We were fighting over a football game. You two were in that impromptu half time show if I remember ..."
"We were," Max said. Then he explained it to Hadrian who listened with amazement that the colony had not just one but two stadiums that could support nearly half a million spectators. "What was the fight over?"
"I don't really remember but he was from Vos and I'm not," Pet-R said as the door nearby opened.
Inferno stepped inside with a grin. "Show time, slaggers."
They got up and stepped out when Inferno dropped the bars. Pet-R paused before Hadrian's cell. "You need to look around and appreciate this place. There are governors here from other city-states. Sentinel Prime is in the prison. So are half the senators who sold out Cybertron. You will find that you are a minority for a change. The old days are over." He nodded, then followed the others out the door snarking with Inferno who snarked back.
When the door closed, it was silent once more. Hadrian sat staring at the wall across the way thinking about what fresh hell he had fallen into once more.
-0-Out there
The ship settled on its struts and powered down. Cramped in the hold, the mechs listened. No one spoke. Sandstorm had not moved in a while. They waited expectantly for anything to happen. The hatch popped, then began to slide open. Outside, the planetoid was barren and rocky. Hercy slid out, then helped pull Sandstorm from the hold. With Kup's help, they carried him to one side laying him gently on the ground. The others slid out, then moved to Kup turning almost as one to check out the ship that had brought them. Three others were parked nearby and from them dozens of organics had stepped. The aliens stood in a crowd facing the transformers, their weapons pointed directly at their helms.
:Well, this looks interesting: Kup said.
Hercy nodded. :It does. I've seen these aliens before:
:They're Hu-An: Springer said. He stepped closer which drew all the weapons to bear upon him. He paused, then raised his servos slightly.
:How do we talk to them?: he asked bending one knee to kneel. As he did a huge Hu-An stepped closer pointing to the emblem on Springer's chest. Springer looked down, then patted it. :I'm an Autobot:
The Hu-An stepped closer, then punched Springer in the face with all his or her might. It was hard to tell at the moment what their gender actually was. Surprisingly for Springer, flashing lights went on all over his processor before they pinged off. He looked at the big alien who was seething with rage. :Ow: he said mostly to himself.
Hercy glanced at Kup, then stepped forward. He stopped beside Springer. He tapped his mouth, then pointed at the big alien. Gesturing for words, then pointing to his audials, he then pointed at the big alien. For a moment the alien glared hatefully at Hercy, then turned catching a device someone from the crowd tossed him/her. Fastening it around his/her neck, he/she looked at Hercy. Hercy nodded, then spoke. :I am Hercy. I am an Autobot. My friends and I were helping a migration of refugees nearby and we got caught by aliens. You saw us fighting them. They had acid monsters:
:We saw them, Metallic. We almost left you: the alien said through his/her device which found their frequency and communicated clearly.
:We owe you one for saving us: Springer said.
:You owe us a clean death, Metallic: the big Hu-An said with absolute fury.
:Oh-oh: Drift said as the group began to close a ring of firearms around them.
-0-TBC March 9, 2014 edited 3-10-14
Most of the United States sets their clocks ahead tonight. ALL HAIL SPRING! Also, getting 'towed away' in American slang means getting drunk off your peds. :D (At least on the west coast of Amerca it does.) :D :D :D