The Diego Diaries: PLAY BALL! (dd6 586)
Well, this was supposed to post last night. If this continues it might force Diego Diaries 7. I'll let you know. If I can't just go to my page and hook up there. You can follow/alert there when its time.
:D
This story just passed 8,085,137 words, most of which still aren't edited but I'm getting there.
:D :P~~~~
HUGS TO ALL OF YOU FOR MAKING ME SO HAPPY THAT YOU READ AND FOLLOW THIS UNIT!
=0=On the court and there abouts
It was observed on the monitors of everyone watching everywhere how fast the rescue squad brought by Springer and Drift sprinted out of three tunnels to help the Messiah Of Their People who sat on the ground watching the birdies sing. They hoofed it with their matching identical tattoos designed and personally painted on their shoulders with a black circle around them so "they'll show up, Mr. Sunstreaker and people can see them easier. I/we want everyone in the colony to know that I'm/we're here to help them", so he did.
With a big grin.
By the time he finished he had four students who wanted to learn how to paint from the 'most famous and amazing artist on Mars'.
That one.
Right now, they gathered around Prime as Sil leaned forward. "Are you alright, Lord Optimus?"
He looked up at the several versions of her leaning over him with great concern and the nearly 800 identical kids with her, then nodded. "I am fine, infant. Thank you for asking."
By that time Ratchet had reached him with a big grin, then knelt beside Sil. "Here we are … our first big emergency, infants. What do we do first?" he asked all of them since all of them were in his C&A program because 'what if there's an emergency and we have to do something to help someone who's hurt, Mr. Ratchet and we don't know how?'
What, indeed?
They whispered together, then Coros turned to Ratchet. "We have to make sure that they're comfortable, then ascertain their level of awareness and hurts."
Prime who was watching with a growing sense of both the absurd and a blazing regard for Cybertronian children sat back to relax against the sweetest inevitability he'd faced in some time. The kids stared at him, then Sil took his giant servo in hand and moved it to his chassis to help him get more comfortable. As she did, he did all the work. Her tiny body couldn't begin to move the tonnage that was him. He vented a sigh. "I feel better already, infants."
The kids nearly wiggled with delight and relief. Coros looked at Ratchet who was enjoying himself enormously. These kids were gold. "Commander, we have to determine his injuries."
"What do you see, infants?" Ratchet asked as the cameras began to train on everyone in the huddle and dial in to listen, especially to the kids and Prime. Drift and Springer stood behind them with proud grins and a sense of the absurd as well.
They looked at Prime, a couple of them getting close to check his optics. He sat quietly and allowed them to do their recon as he and Ratchet along with Springer and Drift had a blazingly wonderful conversation off line. The kids gathered together to discuss the 'symptoms', then turned to Ratchet. "We think he bumped his helm and probably could have a concussion. We don't have instruments but that's our decision."
Ratchet pulled one from subspace rather than use his normal array. He showed them, then scanned Prime. They huddled to see the results.
Concussion, intensely mild.
They smiled at Ratchet liked the sun, then Jessine and Sil turned to Prime, moving closer to his giant frame. "You have a concussion. I think if you sit a moment you'll be okay. He said it was very small."
Prime glanced at Ratchet who nodded, then the children. "Thank you. I will."
The kids grinned, then stepped back to allow 'Lord Optimus to have some space'. He did for a moment, then looked at Ratchet. "I do believe I am better."
Ratchet made a show of scanning, then consulting with the kids. "I do believe he is. Good call, infants. I think he's fit to go back into the game. Do you concur?"
They smiled at Ratchet, then Prime, then nodded together. Coros, Pulley, Sil and Jessine walked to either side of Prime, then took his arms. He got up slowly for them, then bent down to thank them. They spoke with him earnestly and happily before heading back to their tunnels to wait for more good doing to come.
The crowd gave them a standing ovation as they did. They ran into the tunnels, gathered together to jump up and down, then walked to the opening to watch the game with the mechs who were their 'group leaders', a proudly grinning Hercy, Lon, Bezel, Kup, Partition and Lancer. First Aid who had the night off would send each of them a note of congratulations the next orn.
Springer and Drift commiserated with Prime and Ratchet, then walked back to the tunnel leading to the locker rooms to mixed applause, catcalls and abuse.
The usual.
Prime stretched, then walked to the bench when he noticed that Blackjack and Raptor were still slagging it out with Kaon. Until that was settled, nothing was going to go forward.
Yes, Cybertronian rules were that great.
Ratchet walked back, then noticed his tambourine wasn't in sight. Prowl had someone toss it up then he stowed it in his carry hold after discharging Possibility to his Amma Kes. During the half time he would go outside to the parking lot and frisbee it into the air to go who knew where. He would only tell Ratchet he did it the next time they got drunk, a sort of HA-HA, SLAGGER! moment he would live to regret. Then he would pay the ultimate price. He would end up face down in a garbage can in an alley behind Club Cybertron.
To make the story complete, a small child would find the tambourine and because of it be inspired to take up music as a vocation. It wasn't a total loss after all.
HA-HA, PROWLER!
On the court …
Blackjack laughed loudly as he hopped around punching and being punched by Spindler as they waged war back and forth over the center line. Nearby having his own fine time, Raptor was putting the metal to the pedal to Topper, himself no shrinking violet. The crowd by this time was chanting and clapping in time to the dance below.
At the Sports Center desk on Earth …
"I'm struggling to find words for this … this greatness," Daniel Patrick said as the men and women who would be the panel for this game at halftime and during the post game sat with him and Evan Tyler on set. "First of all, all of this would get you kicked off if it happened here, even banned forever. But there, they actually hold up the game for it.
"Then the little kids coming out to assist Prime … some sort of kids mentorship program with medical and security, I'm told ... that was so cute I can hardly stand it. Notice how they take the time to work with the kids … something that felt very impromptu … they took the time to have them help. This feels like a very cool high school game played by professional NBA athletes in the local high school auditorium in front of families and grandparents. I expect a potluck dinner after its over for the whole group. It feels homey, family, close and warm. That doesn't explain it completely for me but its a start."
Evan nodded. "I know. I played a long time and the NBA game is very violent in its own way. You learn how to hip butt or shoulder someone … you can't be a weakling to play it but this is out of my league. The NBA is not warm or cozy like this. Its a big business and no one would stop the game to let little kids have a lesson on anything let alone this. I love it.
"Consider as well … General Raptor, there, is Commander Ironhide's grandfather. Raptor's own father, Ironhide's great grandfather, General Hard Drive is their goalie. General Blackjack who's fighting with Spindler is Ironhide's own father. Look at Ironhide," he said as the camera zoomed in on the Iacon bench.
Ironhide was watching the game between Chromia and Elita while Arcee knelt on the sidelines in front of him to see better. They were laughing and cheering the carnage on.
"That's Ironhide whose father, grandfather and great grandfather are playing together. His father and grandfather are in fist fights on the floor and everyone is laughing including the mechs fighting. The femmes on all sides of him and kneeling in front are his daughters. Two of the best players on Kaon are his sons. This game is so great, you couldn't make it up."
"Did you notice how many generals there are in Ironhide's family? It looks like their boy there, Ironhide, had better get his butt in gear … Commander Ironhide," Daniel Patrick said with a laugh.
They all laughed together.
"I'm glad we aren't broadcasting that," Evan said with a grin.
Everyone nodded.
"My own great grandfather and grandfather are in their graves, my daughters hate sports, my sons are too old to do much more than a round or two of golf and my father and mother are retired in Boca Raton. I'd be a team of one," Patrick said. "An easily beatable team of one."
The laughter and agreement would be loud and long.
Down there on that place over there among them …
Raptor shoved Topper, then the two laughed. Slapping servos, they walked to their benches, goading Spindler and Blackjack as they did. Raptor walked back to the floor again to coach 'Jack as he danced with the big mech who had a hard punch. The room began to chant and clap to the rhythm of their punches, then the two stopped, bumped chests and walked to their benches with big grins. Raptor slapped his son on the back, then the siren went off for half time.
They gathered together, both teams, got into line with banners and bullshit, bitched each other out as they walked out side by side, then disappeared down the tunnel to the locker rooms.
Ratchet watched them go, gave Prowl the stink optic for his tambourine, then watched as the slagger excused himself for a moment. It didn't look good for Prowl. It didn't look good for Ratchet either as Prowl flung the tambourine in his servo into the night sky outside in the parking lot. Walking in with a spring in his step, he got back in time for a hot dog and beer.
"This was a rousing game. The kids are going to be a highlight," Ratchet said as they lounged in their box.
The humans nearby were chatting with Kes and Tagg, congratulating them on their son and his great team since they were 'winning loads of favors by betting on Iacon'.
Kestrel who was always amused by humans laughed. "I will tell him. He will be gratified."
"Of course," Prowl said proudly as he clicked his beer with Ratchet. "He's Optimus Slagging Prime."
"You're loyal. And insufferable. Smug. Shorter than me. Did I say insufferable?" Ratchet asked with a dazzling smile.
"Sticks and stones, slagger," Prowl said. "We're going to hose the Kowboys."
"Who's we? Do you have a slaarg in your subspace?" Ratchet said as he finished his hot dog.
Prowl frowned a tiny frown. "You're disgusting."
"I am," Ratchet said as he pulled from his subspace his newest page in the legend. He put the trumpet to his lips and BLEW!
=0=Down there in the locker rooms
"Did you hear something?" Blackjack asked.
Across the hall …
"I thought I heard a horn," Bracket said.
Sunstreaker considered it, then grinned. "Who wants to bet that's my ada?"
No one took the bet.
=0=TBC 2-5-19 2-19-19