The Diego Diaries: Vacay! 4 (dd6 576)
=0=On a commercial vessel heading for Mars
"I did. He has better things to do than wait on us. We're here as a courtesy," McFarlane replied equally coldly.
It was glacial in the lounge of the vessel.
Cecile Collins, older and more versed in the sudden way violence could blow up considering her husband's career rose. She picked up the smallest of Corey and Nee-See's daughters, then grinned. "Come on. Let's go see what Silo is doing," she said as she glanced at her son and daughter, Bonny and Thom.
Nee-See rose, picked up one daughter and scooted the other ahead as all of them walked toward the corridor to the back where the sweet little mech, Silo of Village 2D would welcome them with the candy all ships carried that might host humans. They were gone in seconds.
The men watched them go, then turned their gaze back to each other. The ship apparently got the package because it began to move and was in space in seconds. It was always a surprise how silently and swiftly these vessels could move. They watched out the windows, then stared back at each other in silence. It was incredibly more hostile now that the women and children were gone. Johnson leaned forward. "Why don't you just say what you want to say, fucker?" he asked with a grin.
"If you fuck this up one more time you'll go to jail, be deported and banned for life," Corey said with a grin. "Don't tempt us."
Johnson sat back. "No balls. No balls at all."
"There they go again," a cheerful voice said as someone appeared from down the hallway. "Balls. What's the deal with balls?" he asked.
Behind him, a big man with blond hair and blue eyes chuckled. "I don't know. Don't bring that up. I'm sick of balls."
The two men walked in, then stopped by the couch. "Look what the cat dragged in," the first said. He was very tall and powerful in a rangy athletic manner. He looked like he could do a pentathlon in the morning and a marathon ten minutes later. He was ridiculously handsome with light brown hair and blue eyes.
The blond was equally big and handsome, rangy in a very athletic manner that combined with almost supernatural confidence in his ability to move that anyone who watched him could discern. Casually dressed in jeans, sneakers and denim shirts, they stared at the group who didn't recognize them.
Earlier …
They reached the Bridge Room of the Ops Center, then walked to the operator. They explained their mission, then walked to a pole nearby that was covered in tech and places to plug in. It had ten spaces around it for mechs to utilize with other stations in other places around the colony including Fort Max and the security tower in Metrotitan. They were new and finally perfected to the degree that Sciences always obsessed over. They would facilitate the sending of pretender geared mechs to their locations without bringing their alt modes along. They plugged in, then the machines took over. Their pretender gear got a swift check over, then they were zapped through the air to the designated coordinates, a swiftly flying commercial vessel on its way to Mars.
They materialized with an almost supernatural realness in the reception dock on the vessel , all of which carried them in the Autobot fleet to receive these such packages. They were fourth generation now and ready for widespread use, especially by special ops who could to go places in pretender gear without worrying about their format. That would stay behind and be less a drag on their operations. They were so powerful that even long distances like this or Earth didn't cause any decline in their projection's 3-D intensity and realness thanks to upgraded power packs.
Stepping down from the platform, they grinned at the two women and the children who watched them go past. They didn't see the Autobrand on the sleeves of their shirts, but something about them felt familiar. Walking down the corridor which took longer their size, they bantered. "If there's a fight, I want Johnson. And two others. You can have the rest," Springer said as he cracked his knuckles.
"What if the soldiers want one? I want a couple myself," Drift said with a smirk. "Hedges and Johnson. Both of them. All of them."
"Greedy," Springer said as they finally reached the lounge. One could start a fire from the sparks that were ready to burst into flames. There they go again," Springer said as he walked to the couches to halt beside a chair next to Corey McFarlane. "Balls. What's the deal with balls?" he asked.
Behind him, the big man with blond hair and blue eyes walked to his side and chuckled. "I don't know. Don't bring that up. I'm sick of balls."
Springer grinned. "So … what are we talking about?" he asked as he walked to the couch where Sam Hedges and Carlos Ortega were sitting. Plopping down between them, edging them over a bit, Springer grinned. "I think this calls for a selfie."
Drift 'pulled' a camera out of his 'jeans pocket', then tossed it to Springer. "Here. Use mine. It has a wide lens feature."
Springer snickered, then glanced at Ortega and Hedges. "Lean in, boys. I have to post something to Instagram and it might as well be you." He slid an arm around Hedges, pulled him close, then leaned into Ortega. Holding up the camera, he smiled then clicked the image. Turning the camera around, he grinned. "Awesome."
"Who the fuck are you?" Johnson asked with a hard tone as Ortega and Hedges rose to move to other chairs with wary expressions.
"Who the fuck are we?" Springer asked Drift who leaned against the couch where the two soldiers sat. They were both amused, though they didn't grasp who the two Autobot pretenders were just yet.
"Do you want the simple answer or is there some philosophical statement that you desire instead? I'm nothing if not philosophical," Drift said with a grin.
"That's it, right? The deeper layers of the onion that we have to peel? Something about how life isn't worth living without works or maybe … does a bear shit in the woods? What's the sound of one hand clapping?" Springer asked as he warmed up to his own bullshit.
Big boys with lots of skills will be big boys.
Drift smirked, then walked over to sit next to him. "You don't mind if I sit here to absorb the wisdom do you?" he asked.
Springer smiled brilliantly. "Nope."
Drift glanced at the others, then fixed his gaze on Johnson. "I hear you're on the brink of getting permanently deported."
"Is that so?" Johnson asked coolly. "Where did you hear that?"
"I saw it written on a bathroom wall," Drift replied with a smirk. He glanced at Springer. "I saw your number there, too, promising a good time if anyone called."
Springer laughed. "Well, I do try."
Corey and Jase were clear on the subtext. These were Autobots, most likely Watch officers and clearly, they had to be Springer and Drift from the comfort level of their bullshit. Corey leaned forward. "Who do you have on the Iacon-Kaon game?"
Both grinned at him. "Why, I'm a Polyhex guy all the way," Springer said.
"That's because he has a dream," Drift said. "Its a tiny dream but its his."
Springer stared at him, then frowned. "I may have to report you."
"To Dad? Which one?" Drift asked as he grinned at Springer.
Springer glanced at Johnson. "Who you rooting for in the next game?"
"That shit? That isn't basketball," Johnson said with disdain.
"I like it," Steve Anson said, oddly enough.
"It's the better game of the two. That little femme dance you do on Earth wouldn't last ten minutes here," Springer said. He grinned. "Just so you know."
Drift glanced at Corey and Jase, then winked. "So, tell us what's the deal here. We can hug it out and go back home."
"You're Drift and Springer," Corey said with a smirk. "Nice tech."
"Thanks. I don't think, though, that it captures the essential me," Springer said with a grin.
Drift nodded. "It left off one of your faces."
Springer frowned as the soldiers laughed. Some of the mercs grinned in spite of themselves. He looked at them. "So, what's going on?"
"Johnson here wants trouble," Corey said nodding to the big man who stared at all of them with contempt.
Drift leaned slightly forward. "Did you know that your name means penis in some places?" Huge laughter erupted as the color in Johnson's face drained away. "Just so you know ... I'm Drift. I'm the mech who carried you to the jail last time. Do I have to do that again?" He glanced at Springer who was grinning at Drift like he invented him. "You're doing it this time."
Springer grinned. "As long as he doesn't pee on my hand like you, Todd."
Everyone glanced at Todd Baseman who flushed brightly red. He shifted in his chair but didn't say a word. Springer grinned at him. "Todd, here, pulled a dick move once," Springer said as he glanced at Drift and the two soldiers. "See what I did there?" he asked with a giant smile.
"We do. Go on," Drift said as he leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the coffee table.
"He got loaded, drove to the party at the beach on Diego where our kids were having fun with a tiny little pop gun. We got him, Kup and me, then I stepped on his four wheeler, carried him to the brig in the Embassy, then had to wash my hands because Todd here peed on me."
"I want tape. I hear they're a 'thing'," Drift said with a smirk as the soldiers laughed loudly and agreed.
"You think you're a comedian," Johnson said with contempt.
"No. I'm the God of The Hunt for Mars, Cybertron and the Empire. I run every policing apparatus everywhere and if I say you're arrested, you are. However, and I want this clearly understood, few are as fair as me," Springer said.
Drift nodded. "He's fair."
The soldiers laughed loudly and some of the mercs actually snickered.
Johnson glanced sharply at them.
They shrugged. "It was funny," Steve Anson said.
"Bullshit," Johnson said as he glared at the two incongruous figures lounging next to him. "You're fucking cars. There's nothing about you that's even close to us and no matter what kind of tech you use, you're still not us."
"I don't know. I put a lot of thought into this format," Springer said as he accessed the internet. "How about I do something that might make you feel more comfortable with your human awesomeness and all?" He rose, then walked to an empty space nearby. "How about his one?" he asked before he downloaded and assumed the figure of the Yautje's alien acid monsters.
That was when everyone in the lounge including Drift lost their shit.
Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars
"There appears to be a potential problem on a vessel coming here," Prowl said drily as he sat beside Prime. Possibility was laying on the table on the big map, sleeping on the part that disclosed Gliese 581 g. "Drift and Springer went there in pretender gear to settle things."
"They should be able to do that with skill and ability," Prime said, then he grinned.
Prowl grinned back at him.
Possibility slumbered on.
=0=On his way lickety split
He hopped off the receiving station as he materialized on the vessel. Waving with a smile at the two women, five children and startled mini-con sitting nearby having a cookie break, a tall mech with fire engine red hair, a tiny Autobot beauty mark on his cheek and an astonishingly handsome face and physique hoofed it forward to the lounge.
Nee See looked at Cecile. "If I didn't bleed so easily, I'd follow him."
Silo grinned. "We have cameras. I have it all on film."
Nee See grinned at Silo. "What would we all do without mini and micro mini-cons?"
What, indeed, would we do?
=0=TBC 1-23-19 edited 1-24-19