The Diego Diaries: Now (654)
-0-On the hangar deck of Moonbase
A shuttle arrived and settled on its gear, the hatches sliding back to reveal several mechs in a bad state. Three of them were dead with another one rapping on the Matrix. Several others were wounded including two badly. Seven of them were relatively unscathed and were diverted to the Salton Sea for interrogation. The shuttle carrying them landed on the hangar deck of the Salton Sea to an awaiting group of soldiers heavily armed. They stepped out of the vessel, their energon cuffs glowing. Walking sullenly past their captors, they followed Drift into the elevators to go upward to the command deck and Prime.
-0-Ratchet
He stood on the hangar deck of Moonbase watching as stretchers were taken off shuttles along with ambulatory patients. Armed guards were there to to help with crowd control. Ratchet watched the wounded enter the elevators and disappear. Specialists were taking care of them and he would check in shortly. Right at the moment, he was working out all of the chaos of the recovery at this end while on Mars things were being managed under the care of Gypsy and Cambo.
He walked to the elevator riding up to medbay. Walking through the mass of wounded and sick from the rescue, he headed to the security medbay where the Decepticons were being repaired. As he did, he paused as a stretcher was carried out. A sheet covered the body on board which was headed for the morgue. He paused, then stepped in to watch three of the worst wounded under care. By the time he turned to walk out to help others who needed him, Ratchet had three Decepticons in the security ward on the guarded list.
-0-Salton Sea
They walked across the command deck under guard halting as they reached Prime. He was discussing a problem with Starscream and Ironhide. Pausing, Prime looked at the seven mechs standing before him in various stages of battery and denting. "You managed to take them alive I see," Prime said glancing at Drift.
"We did. Some of them didn't deserve it," Drift said glancing at the mechs who looked at him with silent seething rage. "I suppose you want to squeeze them for information."
"That would be nice," Prime said as he sat back scrutinizing the mechs before him. They were Decepticons bearing the brand on their arms. Whether they would still pass muster with Megatron wasn't known. Whether they would with Prime was up to them.
"Tell me who you are," Prime said.
No one spoke. They stood staring at Prime like sullen teenagers, their desires themselves writ large on their face.
"You," Prime said nodding to one standing at the end of the line. "Tell me about Trannis."
"You would love that wouldn't you," he replied with a sneer.
Drift cuffed him on the back of his helm. "I think that's obvious."
The mech glared at him with hatred. "Frag you, Autobot. You won't get a syllable out of us."
Springer who had walked in paused beside Prime. "Well, that's too bad," he said glancing at Optimus. "Do you want me to put them in punitive stasis with the others?"
Prime nodded, his gaze never leaving the group. They glanced at each other, then Prime. "You won't do that," one said.
"Keep up, slagger," Springer said moving toward them. "He took out the Decepticon Justice Division. What makes you think he would spare small change like you?"
"You lie," one of the 'Cons said.
Drift smirked. "Shall we show them the images," he asked, "or do we have the relics handy?"
Springer glanced at Prime. "I can get them or do you think the pictures will be enough?" He looked at the prisoners. "You tell us. Pictures or artifacts?"
They looked at Springer, then one of them smirked. "Artifacts, slagger. Pictures are easy to fake."
Starscream who was looking at them malevolently rose and walked to a console nearby. Opening a hatch, he pulled a box out that was evidently stored there. Reaching into it he took a white object and tossed it at the 'Cons. It landed at their peds, a dull white thing looking up at them through empty optic sockets.
"Is that supposed to impress us?" the first asked glancing at Prime with a smirk.
"No," Drift said toeing the artifact over with his ped. "But this side might."
They stared at it, the fabled facial plate cover of Vos. It was demonic, the mask of his face with its torturous side filled with nails, drills, hooks, knives, blades and other razor-sharp pointy things. It was instructive to all who looked at it that this was the side that Vos HIMSELF wore against his own processor. It was so vile it had to be real. It announced its own authenticity to the group by the very nature of its being. They stared at it, then looked at Prime.
"We want to know what's goin' on with Trannis. It would do you well to tell us. We don't really want to have you runnin' around so stasis is an option that seems reasonable right now," Jazz said as he looked at Prime and the others at the table. "Don't you think so? That it seems reasonable?"
The others nodded without comment. Prime merely watched them as he relaxed in his chair. They all had this down to a fine point. They did the work. He got the information. They could all do it even in their recharge.
"What do you want to know?" one of them asked. The others glared at him. He glared back. "I don't want stasis."
"Where are the civilians and what's happening to them?" Elita asked coldly. She stood beside Prime, her formidable persona shooting menace to the prisoners double time.
"Trannis has them building his fortress," the mech answered. The others were pissed but they didn't interrupt. "He has their ships disabled. They live in them and work in round the clock shifts. He wants a stone fortress dug in to operate out of and to defend."
"How many refugees?" Elita asked again.
"Lots. Maybe three or four thousand. I didn't count them." He glanced at the others. "Tops four thousand?" he asked.
One of them nodded. "That many at least."
"Elders? Infants and the like? Families?" Springer asked. They nodded. "What about their condition? Is he harming them? How are they with food and shelter?"
"He's letting them make their own energon and they live in their disabled ships. The workers do what they're told or their families get it," one said. "Trannis isn't a shrinking violet when it comes to handing out the pain."
"How many soldiers does he have? How many ships? What are his strengths, weaknesses, all of it," Ironhide asked in his usual professional no nonsense cold manner.
They stared at him, then each other. One of them, the first one looked at Prime. "What if we tell you what you want to know. All of it. What then? What will happen to us?"
Prime looked at them a moment, then nodded. "We let you live."
"What kind of deal is that?" another asked with a rising sense of anger.
"A pretty good one considering the alternative," Ironhide countered.
It was silent a moment, then the first one glanced at the others. He looked at Prime, then began. He told them of the battleships that Trannis had 'commandeered' from the fleet when he had parted with the fringe groups that manned hunter-killer teams. Those groups roved with a degree of autonomy against anyone who Megatron perceived as an irritation or enemy unlike others on shorter leashes. There were battle shuttles as well as a fighter transport that fielded numbers of two and three manned fighters. Thousands of soldiers served Trannis but they didn't have a firm number. Most of his teams worked among their group or groups without a clear idea of the bigger picture. These mechs were no exception.
"You're a hunter-killer team," Ironhide offered.
"No," they said nearly as one. No one in the room believed them but no one argued. These mechs would be jailed immediately.
"Tell us the layout of his operation," Drift said. "Don't leave anything out."
They talked together for about half a joor. Then Springer turned the group to walk them out. One of them paused. "You putting us in stasis?" he asked.
"Go with the guards. You will be placed in the brig until we get to our colony. Then you will go to prison for now," Prime said.
"With the rest of the trash," Ironhide added.
They stared at Prime, then turned to leave with Springer, Drift and the rest of the guards. They sat watching them go, then Ironhide turned to Prime. "How much is slag and how much is true?"
"Trust but verify," Elita said with a grin.
"Took the words out of my mouth," Optimus said with a nod. "Put it into the database but flag it as data from hostile witnesses. Anything is a help but we have to be sure."
Ironhide nodded. "Twelve down. Thousands to go."
It sounded wearying to everyone there as well as Prime.
-0-In an examination room on Mars
"We have studied the protoform fully and carefully, Corlie and we have decided to try the less invasive process to shore up the baby without transferring his spark chamber. He's going to have to have a heavy duty schedule of supplements to strengthen his protoform as well as a few adaptive surgeries when he's older to ensure that he grows the way he should. He's that borderline for us," the lead doctor in the protoform team said as they sat with Corlie, his bond, their infant, his ada and his bond's atar. The other elders were still under care in Metroplex Femme.
A thorough examination had been undertaken that morning with the results reviewed by the team. Sitting together in a sunny conference room in Metroplex Femme, a relieved Winter with them for moral support, they took in the news. Corlie whose processor was nearly exploding from the relief leaned forward. "Could you repeat all the things you told us. I think I don't remember what you said after not needing to transfer his spark."
All of them including Winter nodded in agreement.
-0-Elsewhere: Sunstreaker's studio, Tyger Pax
They stood in the sunlight of the windows of their family business staring at the city below. Uraya held her favorite truck while Iacon a fat crayon. They had been drawing on their 'sketch books', paper folders filled with their art that their ada had gathered for them. Each page was lovingly saved, studied for content, then shared.
Sunstreaker would point out the various inscrutible things that neither Bluestreak nor Sideswipe saw but when shown conceded were there. All of it was deeply important to Sunstreaker so they humored him. Kaon on the other servo like building things. His 'art' was more hands on and less esoteric. Either a building stood or it fell. No nuance there.
Miler sat on the floor watching them, studying their beauty and personalities. They were marvelous and he loved them deeply. Sitting nearby with a top trying to spin it, a contented Miracle played. He was happy with or without company.
The little mechs were at the Sports Center down the street. A second one had been built in Tyger Pax to entertain the Tri-Cities. Venture who had finished his work early had picked them up along with Sunspot and hurried off to the the big swimming pool for laughs and fun. They would meet later to eat at the Residence before Sunspot would go to his own home when Tie and Ravel came. They would bring Appa Ratchet, Hero, Orion and Praxus with them.
Dogs and cats, a bug and infants … it was glorious. He had never in his button down life ever expected to be this happy. Uraya turned and smiled at her grandada. "Ada."
Miler smiled. "Uraya."
She walked to her 'Ada' and climbed onto his lap settling against his immaculate chassis. Eventually she and the other little ones would get the nuance of grandada and ada. Right now, they were equal. A lap was a lap was a lap to an infant. To Uraya, it was just the same.
-0-TBC March 17, 2014 edited 4-4-14
Happy St. Patrick's Day to all and sundry. Fortunately, the Irish are lovely about sharing. :D Hugs to everyone.