WELCOME TO PART FOUR OF THE SAME SLAGGING STORY! BWAHAHAHAHA! The upload function hates me. But guess what … (glances both ways for listening ears) … I HATE THEM BACK! :D:D:D:D
ad-seg: prison slang for administrative segregation: the hole where you go when you do a bad.
Chapter 3: Chapter 3
The Diego Diaries: Hunt 1 (DD4 3)
-0-Ratchet's office in the sky
"What are you doing?" A huge helm peered around the corner spotting Ratchet sitting at his desk hunched over a computer.
Ratchet looked up. "My job. You?" He sat back with a grin. "You look like someone else wants your dollie."
"They do, the slaggers," Ironhide said as he slipped inside to sit down warily. Popping his hold, he slid out a smiling babbling infant who was snugged inside his little bag. A hat like a red cherry was on his little helm and was a nice accompaniment to his pretty red chevron. Ironhide laid him on the desk.
Ratchet pulled him over, then kissed his little face. "Hey, cutie. I hear the school is stalking your old mech."
"What did you hear?" -Old mech with a concerned expression.
"I heard, Ironhide, that they're making a call for new infants in two decaorns." Ratchet sat back. "What say you?"
"I say frag." Ironhide sat back considering his options which were at the moment hovering down around slim to none.
"What is Prime deciding about Australia?" Ratchet asked.
"We're going to blow them the frag to the Matrix," Ironhide replied with almost too much satisfaction. "I get to lead the team."
"Bring the hurt, Only One," Ratchet said with a grin.
"Count on it," Ironhide said sliding the infant back. He deftly removed the baby from his bag, then sat the infant on the desktop.
Prowler smiled brilliantly at him, a totally photogenic move, then did something extraordinary. He looked at the table top, then with effort moved himself into a standing position. He wobbled a moment, then turned to Ratchet with a giant smile. With a lovely set of tweets, he toddled over to his ada who caught him. Ratchet held the baby, then looked at Ironhide who looked at him with the same expression: optics the size of truck tires. They both said the same thing: "Oh frag."
-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Primal Colony of Mars
"I think it would be wise to bring our outliers back to Mars for the duration. If they can't get the ones they want they might strike at their families," Wheeljack said with concern.
"Very well," Prime said. "Call in the soldiers."
Prowl paused putting out the call, then turned to the console to make arrangements for an airlift from all over the world. By the time he had it in servo segways were flying across the floor toward them. They paused next to Prime's chair. :You rang?: Lennox said with a grin. That would fade nearly immediately.
-0-On the airfield
The hubbub began as a mission was getting organized. It would be vetted down to the last rivet, then wait on the tarmac for the go. Mechs and two femmes all over the colony had been alerted, some for specific skills. They had gathered their gear on the tarmac along with weapons for loading into their particular ship. It was like magic how it came together but eons of practice shaved rough edges.
Elsewhere another mission was underway. Space bridges would be the transport of choice as the plan to safeguard their brothers-at-arms and families swung into high gear. Standing in the bridge room waiting for their orders, seven immaculate mechs waited patiently. Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Hound, Hot Rod and Roadbuster stood chatting, slagging and wasting time before heading out to do onsite duty with various and sundry humans on Earth.
Having just gotten the call, they had enough time to gather weapons, get an upgraded field processor to make energon from solar energy which would then go straight to their tanks via internal installation and other refinements from the (mad) science (labs) of Wheeljack and Perceptor. It was amazing what a pair of nerds could accomplish with infinite time and resources. Having left medical to come here, they had almost no time to alert their significant others. They were at this moment getting the personal squared with the professional.
Sunstreaker to Bluestreak: :FRAG! I HAVE THE SHOW TO TAKE CARE OF AND I'M BABYSITTING A HUMAN!:
Sideswipe to Bluestreak: :Sunstreaker is fragged off. At least he gets Fulton. He can stay at Diego most of the time, the slagger. I get Morshower. I get to park at the Pentagon. How's that for fragged?: He paused. :Wait a moment. He's been cleared to go with me:
:You both are so cute when you snivel: -Bluestreak offering a (cold) shoulder to (snivel) cry on.
Bumblebee: :Aid, I will call you every orn:
:You better. I will call you more: -First Aid, sniveling
:No, I will call you more: -Bumblebee enjoying the angst
:No.I will: Aid, not getting it again
:No. I will: Bee, getting it and having a blast
Bulkhead to the bond: :I won't be home tonight. I have extended duty taking care of a human on earth:
Tyro to the bond: :Frag. I suppose I can cover your union meeting. What were you supposed to bring?:
:Besides my awesomeness?: -Bulkhead having his version of phone Sexy
(Grin) :Goes without saying: -Tyro, sexting him back over the phone. Sort of.
Roadbuster: "Crickets". He was good to go at a moment's notice. The more violent, the better (Wreck 'N Rule tm)
Hot Rod: :Frag:
Smokey: :THIS IS FRAGGED! WHY CAN'T I GO TOO? HOW AM I EVER SUPPOSED TO BECOME A WARRIOR WITHOUT GETTING EXPERIENCE?! I'M GOOD TO GO, RODDY! DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW LONG YOU'LL BE GONE?!:
Hot Rod: :No: (grin)
SMOKEY: :THIS IS FRAGGED!:
Prowl entered about then, then paused. "Gentlemen, you have your orders?"
Seven nods of which two were sullen, one expectant and the rest resigned.
"Very well," Prowl said quashing a smirk. "You may go."
They nodded, then walked to the platform. The director signaled them to go and they did, some together and others not. When they were all gone, Prowl walked back to the Center.
-0-New York, USA, Earth
A seriously hot concept Camaro and a beautiful rugged Hummer truck drove down the crowded streets of New York City heading for Fifth Avenue. Bumblebee and Roadbuster drove together heading for an enormous building that had an underground parking garage where the meet up would be held. Calls had already been made and both expected their personal 'packages' to be there for the briefing. They found the building, then entered it disappearing downward into the parking area.
-0-At the office on Fifth Avenue, New York City, New York, USA, Earth
They sat together, the office crew and Warren Roberts. Sam Witwicky stood by the window looking out, then turned to the group. "This is fucked."
"That about sums it up," Warren said with a nod. "We have to meet our guardians in the parking garage in a moment. No one is to be anything but attentive. You have the emergency bands, correct?"
Everyone held up their wrists. Warren stood. "They can bridge to where you are in a nanosecond. Make sure that you use them if you need to do so. They will come. As for the near future, I want to have all of you leave the office and take a break. I would go on vacation and make it last. We will cover the cost. Enjoy yourself. Sam and I will be going after our meetings over the next three days to Mars with our families until they give the all clear. It doesn't matter what's on the plate right now. We can manage things from our offices on Mars. We are closing this office now until the all clear. Go and play. Make sure that you send your requests to the office on the private line so that we can help you with arrangements. It would appear that you will be fine because you are peripheral to us. We are going to be the main targets so we're heading out. You have our numbers. Any questions?"
No one had any so they dismissed heading for their desks and offices to gather things to leave. While they did Sam and Warren left too. A short elevator ride to the basement led to the door that opened into the garage. They stepped out and looked around. There were rows and rows of cars. Walking out warily, they stood in the roadway looking for their protectors.
"Bee," Sam said on his phone. "Where are you?"
Lights flashed nearby so they turned to walk along the row of silent cars. Parked nearby facing out, a brilliant Camaro and a large red and green Hummer waited for them. Sam paused. "Bee? Is that you? Blink three times if it is."
Three blinks greeted that, then a voice filled with mirth spoke over his phone. "Get in, Sam."
They relaxed. "Just checking," Sam said with a grin. "Where are we going?"
"Home to get your stuff. Then we go to a safe house out of town," Bee said as Sam got into the Camaro. Warren Roberts did as well, ubiquitous briefcases and computer bags in hand. "The truck next to us is Roadbuster. He's a Wrecker and will be part of the muscle. Say hi."
Warren paused, then looked at the scarlet and green vehicle parked quietly beside them. "Hello, Roadbuster. Thank you."
"You're welcome," a deep voice replied.
"Follow me, Roadie," Bee said as the two humans sat down inside. He closed his doors, then pulled out with Roadbuster following. They would link sensors, an enhancement that would allow them to detect 'Con signals more than fifty miles around their location. They would not detect any.
-0-Pentagon
They drove out of the space bridge from Mars onto a quiet street in Arlington, Virginia. It was mid morning so the rush was over for a while. They formed up on each other heading toward Rosslyn along Highway 66. The traffic wasn't terrible but it was more than either had experienced in some time. Bantering to each other, Sunstreaker heavily bitching about the show and his peripheral participation through internal link led the way.
Wilson Boulevard bled into Jefferson Davis Highway as they drove nearly bumper to bumper. As they cruised along, a couple of sports cars sped up to pull alongside. "Sunstreaker, put your avatar up," Sideswipe said triggering his. A handsome human male image appeared at the wheel of his car. Ahead, Sunstreaker triggered one as well, a nearly identical version of Sideswipe's only 'handsomer'. They continued as the two drivers in the two sports cars took their measure alongside.
"Fraggers. What the frag are they doing? They can't hold a candle to us. Fragging Porsches. Who are they kidding?" Sunstreaker said with more than usual irritation. They were unpacking his works and he wasn't there to really give them an assist.
Sideswipe chuckled. "Really. Shall we give them a run for their money?"
"What's the road ahead look like?" Sunstreaker asked as a voice came over their personal inter-communications devices.
"No fragging around. Just get the job done," Prowl said before clicking off.
"What?! Who gave Granny permission to interrupt our fun?" Sideswipe asked with a chuckle.
"Fragger has optics in the back of his helm," Sunstreaker said with a grin. "You ready?"
"I was born ready," Sideswipe said.
That was when they put the metal to the pedal.
-0-Paramount Studios, California, USA, Earth
Hot Rod came through the gates, his avatar making the interface with the guards. Driving through the busy lot, he found the offices he needed. Parking in front of them, he settled in to wait. Fraggers were inside. They had gotten the word from Autobot City and were gathering their gear. Some would be going back to Mars to stay, two wouldn't. He would have to take care of them while they were here. Some of the work on their programs required them to be here. While they were, he would see what he could do to be more in the show than he was. After all, he thought he had one of the best paint schemes in the armed forces. He had a lot to offer too. Just ask Smokey. He grinned.
That had been a bummer.
Earlier ...
"I have to go to Earth and body guard the filmmakers in California," Hot Rod said as he walked from the firing range. He and Smokey had gone there to shoot. Keeping their arms in trim was a major responsibility for bots who were military careerists.
"What?" Smokey asked nearly stumbling over his peds in surprise. They had plans for the weekend which was coming up in three orns. "How long?"
"It's open ended. I just got my orders," Hot Rod said.
"What the frag? Can I go too? I can help," Smokey said. "Who do I talk to?"
"Prowl," Hot Rod said with a grin. "Good luck with that."
Smokey took a right to the Fortress as Hot Rod took a left to go to his locker in the Central Labor Hall Hub Depot and Armory. The youngling walked into Ops Center filled with determination and arguments that evaporated when he reached the door. Pausing to look around, Smokey spotted his grandatar. Walking inconspicuously toward that worthy, he pulled up a seat beside him.
"Hello, grandson," Smokescreen said with a grin. "What brings you here? As if I didn't know ..."
Smokey paused, then leaned in speaking in a soft whisper. "I want to go with Hot Rod. I can help him. I have the skills."
"You'll have to clear it with Prowl," Smokescreen said with a grin.
"I thought, Grandatar, that you might ... you know ... ask him for me. I mean, I could do it," he said quickly, "but you have more experience and he'll listen to you and trust your judgment if you ask for me." Smokey stared intently at his grandfather who looked at him with a slight smirk. He leaned in closer. "Please."
Smokescreen glanced over his shoulder. Prime and Prowl were working at the center table together. It was clear to him that the roster was set but this was his only one true and most beloved grandson so he turned to them and cleared his throat, a most unnecessary act. "Would it be alright for Smokey to go with the crew to Earth to do guard duty?" he asked with a grin.
"No," Prowl said without looking up. Prime stared at the datapad in his servo as he struggled not to laugh aloud. Prowl stared at his own with the same problem.
Smokescreen looked at his grandson, then shrugged his shoulders with a sympathetic expression on his handsome face. Smokey for his part looked downfallen. He looked at his grandpa, then nodded. Rising, he walked out slowly, dejectedly. He would find his grandada at home and console himself with the kind of pie only his grandada could make.
That kind.
Prowl who glanced over his shoulder watched the youngling walk slowly out the door. He looked at Smokescreen who nodded. "Thanks, Prowl."
"Don't mention it," Prowl said with a grin.
Prime on the other servo nearly fell off his chair laughing.
-0-Bulkhead
He walked out at Diego Garcia, then headed toward the administration building where everyone worked. Waving to friends, he basked inwardly at the immense attention he was getting from sailors, marines, airmen and women, soldiers, civilians and their cameras. He let the bond know he was here and was told that he would cover Bulk at the union meeting that night. He would also bring donuts for the meet up. It would be a pleasant conversation across the tarmac. Walking around the back, he peered into the windows. "Andrew."
Andrew Settles rose, then walked to his window. "Hi, Bulkhead. I heard that you're here to take care of me. I won't be going to the states until tomorrow."
"I know. Prime sent us out early. Better now than never," Bulkhead said.
Settles grinned at this, one of the most well liked Autobots ever. "We're going to have some fun, Bulk. My family is dying to meet you."
Bulkhead nodded. "Sounds like fun," he said.
Settles nodded. "I hope so."
-0-On the Jefferson Davis Highway
They bombed along the highway passing Arlington National Cemetery. They were heading at speed toward the Pentagon passing South Washington Boulevard. It would be a roundabout drive to the Pentagon from there. The two Porsches kept up, then began to fall back as the bots sped up almost effortlessly. They wove in and out of traffic pushing themselves past 100 miles an hour. By the time they began the circuitous route to the Pentagon itself the Porches would be way behind. The twins would be there in seconds. So would the two Porsches. So would the three police cars following them.
-0-Ops Center, Autobot City, Primal Colony of Mars
Prowl read the report with a frown. Then he walked to the communications console to put in the word. When he did, he paused to comm the twins. :You two are mine if you do this again. I hope I don't have to explain the potential for you to never see your home again available to me:
-0-Nearing the Pentagon
They slowed to begin the process of entering one of the most secured locations on the Earth. Behind them, the Porsches began to catch up. When the twins entered cleared by Morshower, the Porches would take longer. But in the end, they would follow the bots inside.
-0-TBC April 22, 2014 edited 8-28-15 I really like a happy Prime. :D
NOTES: A flock of crows is a murder of crows. A flock of geese is a gaggle of geese. A bunch of foxes is a lurk of foxes. A bunch of Autobots is an exaltation of Autobots. Truly. I didn't make it up. :D:D:D I love TF wiki dot net.
