The Diego Diaries: Stuff and Games (dd6 661)
=0=The Fortress at mid afternoon, Autobot City
They walked through the bridge, several huge mechanisms and some slighter. It was early mid afternoon and they were heading for the barn, or better yet, their hangar in the Industrial Park Cities to get in a little bit of practice before the game that evening with Tarn and their powerhouse forward line. Walking to the steps that led upward, the group turned left, not right and headed for the brig. The three miscreants followed unaware of where they were headed until it was obvious by which time they were slowing and showing alarm.
Reaching the doors to the facility with their protective sensors, guard at the entrance monitoring station and all of the signage about the place and what you could/couldn't do, it was three very grim faced mechs who paused just before the big heavy steel doors.
"What's this?" Rockwell asked as the other two glanced sharply between each other and the big mechs who turned to face them.
"This is the first jail and the military lock up here on world. This is where families sometimes are held until their situation regarding criminality or other untoward offenses is sorted out. You're going to be living here as long as we have the writ for your behavior," Hardie said calmly, then he turned to the guard. "We're dropping off overnighters. They're going to be here for some time. When they aren't with us, they're here."
The guard nodded, then cut the beam that would allow everyone to enter.
Hardie looked at the three. "After you."
Rockwell stepped closer, his servos balled into fists. "This wasn't in the agreement. Why can't we live at home?"
"This was in the agreement because you and your guarantor, your appa said that we had discretion. Full discretion. The judge approved it. You agreed to it. You nearly killed someone in a fight when they were incapacitated. What makes you think you can live free after that?
"Its either here or the prison. There will be no plans to keep you out of general population there with the Decepticons and criminals. If you disagree, I'll send you to the prison for 150 orns of detention with them. Of course, that will put your appa in a very bad way and shame him before the congregation. Your call," Hardie said with a soft voice.
They stared at each other, the two sides, as the younger mechs did the math. They were deeply frustrated but it was a mark in their favor for Hard Drive that they were caving to preserve their appa.
Maybe they weren't totally without conscience.
Hardie stepped in and the mechs slowly followed, walking down a corridor with cells and numbers. Cell Block A through D was passed, then another detention check point was met. They walked down the new addition to a place where there was more room and comforts in the cells.
Entering 'Cell Block E-G: Family Detention and Special Circumstances Holds, Hardie paused in front of one that was a long rectangle shape, held a table and chairs, four single mech berths along the far wall, two couches and a big chair that faced a large monitor. It was comfortable and roomy. He turned to the three. "This is your new home. Tonight is your first night here so you may not have visitors. You're going to be allowed one joor an orn for now to speak to your family by video format and only in the evening. You will earn visitations just like anyone else.
"Your meals will be provided and there are facilities down the hallway if you have need. This is where you'll live until you serve your sentence and/or change your ways. Given that Primus has weighed in with His own demands, I can't see what your point is. Enter," Hardie said.
They stared at him, then stepped into the cell whereupon the guard with them drew up the bars. They glimmered in the view of the Cybertronians, something that humans wouldn't see and encased them inside. The three turned to Hardie without comment.
"There are snacks at 1000 and 2000 joors and breakfast is in the morning at 0600. We will be here when we come for you. Some of us might take only the mech that we chose or we can take you all. Until then, welcome home," he said, then nodded to the jailer. "Thank you, infant."
"You're welcome, General," the guard said as he followed the group out.
When they were all gone, the three glanced at each other. Pico walked to the chair to sit, resting in the comfort of its cushions wearily. "This is the worst."
No one had a word to say to that.
=0=Outside and upwardly
They walked out with a grin, heading for the barn before going out to the Cities for a round or two of play and strategizing. Dinner would be had early on a game day as the families got ready to go to Retriades for the next win.
At least, that was the plan. Tarn had a fast offense and it would be up to the slaggers to mute their rampaging.
It would be Prime's call.
Dividing up, they headed off to their homes for refreshment, to check in and to collect themselves for this, a very important game in the inexorable drive toward victory in this, the first championship of the Cybertronian-Martian Adult Professional Basketball League.
They were a happy group that meandered on.
=0=Moments later
"HONEY! I'M HOME!"
Ratchet glanced up from the book he was reading on this, the last orn he had to be off work, then grinned. "You look handsome. Slagging high castes seems to agree with you."
"IT DOES! I AM IRONHIDE! I BAG AND SLAG, THEN BRAG! I'M GOOD AT IT," Ironhide said as he sat down in his chair. "How ya doing?"
"Fine as frog's hair. When you going to practice?" Ratchet asked.
"After I eat. GET SOME GRUB ON! I, IRONHIDE REQUIRE EATS!"
Ratchet snickered, then rose. "Slagger. You can cook and I can't. I can wash, yet you do the washing. What's wrong with this picture?"
"Nothing," Ironhide said as he watched Ratchet's aft as he bent over to reach into the lower levels of the refrigerator. "Where's the kids? Isn't school out?"
Ratchet glanced at him. "Game night somehow means date night somehow. They were claimed in a haze of grabby hands. It was like being battered by locusts. I do declare, Ironhide, I'm going to have the vapors one of these fine orns," he said as he batted his optics.
"You mean … no one is here?" Ironhide asked. He glanced around. "Where's the cow, cat and Spot? They're not here?"
"Nope. The big kids are going to the game but they're staying over with the others at Ty's. The babies disappeared into the various grasping grips of just about everyone. Cows and other varmits did the same. Don't expect them to come to the game tonight." Ratchet glanced at the dish in his servos. Leftovers. He glanced at Ironhide. "Buy me dinner, lazy aft. Either that or its leftover lasagna and coki buns."
Ironhide considered the coki buns, a delicacy among his own people and his ravishing near fetish taste for Italian food. Then he stood. "Get your coat and bag, slagger. Dinner is on me."
Ratchet put the dish back in the fridge, then grinned at Ironhide. "Coat and bag?"
"Top hat and cane?" Ironhide said with a grin and swagger as they walked to the door. Mech was feeling good. "Tin whistle and girdle?" He kept them up as the door closed.
=0=At an Italian Restaurant, quelle surprised
They sat in a booth together watching the funny folk all around. It was game night in the colony so the bars and restaurants were humming. A lot of sports bars, regular bars and most restaurants played the games on huge monitors, some with the sound turned down for the edification of the punters. Many were the groups that went to bars to watch.
"What's the expectation tonight other than your awesome aft bouncing around out there?" Ratchet asked as he sipped his 'wine'.
"Expect brilliance. Ball handling like no one ever saw will be seen," Ironhide said as he began to wind himself up. "I, Ironhide will be pivotal as I pivot here and there."
Ratchet laughed. "If you say so, bub. The humans are going to be there and they have a book going. You're odds on favorites to win, though given the team, odd might be the operative word here."
"Mock me now, Ratchet, but I intend to dominate in my usual suave but daring manner," Ironhide said as huge plates arrived.
Platters with spaghetti noodles and sauce, meatballs and other toppings on separate plates were laid before them. Bread sticks, 'olive oil' for dipping bread, several vegetables and other delicacies arrived. Then the waiters walked off mightily pleased.
Ironhide watched them go, then stared at the vegetables. "You better eat those. I might lose my game if I do. Along with other things."
"You don't know what's good for you," Ratchet said as he slid a platter of 'vegetables, sauteed and covered in a light sauce onto his own plate.
They divied up and began to eat, chatting about this and that before getting to The Good Stuff.
"How was it today?" Ratchet asked.
"I have to hand it to them. They understand their appa's oath and position. They want to kill all of us but we keep them busy. They helped dig out a septic line for runoff water in the Tagon Heights, helped gather the dead in the cluster cities at the north pole, then moved heavy beams and other trash in the villages north of Helex. It was hard, dirty and heavy duty. They did it without an audible peep."
"Springer and Drift told me about the fracas when they arrested them on the ship in the migration. They have skills, Ironhide. Don't turn your back on them. I don't know how long they can hold it before they blow," Ratchet said.
Ironhide nodded. "I think they're going to settle as long as they can to spite us. This may be the first honest labor they ever did."
"Then its all for the good," Ratchet said.
"What do you think about them? Any voodoo in the future?" Ironhide asked.
Ratchet shrugged. "Pico looks like a wimp so I don't expect too much trouble from him. Carver is quieter and harder to read and Rockwell could last a while but seems to me to be emotionally driven in his entitlement. He'll be the one who gives you trouble. Where are they now?"
"In the family holding cells of the jail. They thought they could go home but Appa told them otherwise," Ironhide said. "I don't know how much they can take or what they're actually made of but we have 149 orns to find out."
"Using the Terran calendar, that means they're yours to boss around until October 12th or there abouts," Ratchet said with a smile.
"Slag," Ironhide said as he computed the same thing. "I guess this calls for dessert."
It did.
=0=A warehouse in the 'Cities'
They warmed up, tossed in a few from all over the space, then gathered to chat about The Plan.
"And that is what I think will work best," Optimus said as he spun the ball on his digit.
"So … we run, knock them down, bury their forwards in coverage and steal a lot," Magnus said. "What sort of plan is that, if I may be so bold."
Prime chuckled. "The usual plan when we played as kids. These teams do not have our precision or longevity of play and purpose. Let us play them like we did in the Jumble. Domination is the name of the game, that and physicality."
"Sounds good to me," Ironhide said as he slammed his fists together.
Hardie grinned at Ironhide, then Prime. "Sounds good to me, too."
They gathered to run plays, then played a short game between them. By the time they were done they were on the road to Retriades and the dream game of Optimus Prime, brass knuckles basketball Cybertronian style.
=0=The Primal Box, Arena 3, Retriades Sports Center, Retriades, Autobot City, Primal Colony of Mars, Cybertron and the Empire
Ratchet moved to his seat and sat as he watched Prowl lean slightly over the rail to check out the floor below. It was immaculate and as the room began to fill up with the usual 100,000 spectators and all their noise, team 'cheer gear', noisemakers, goofy Iaconian-style apparel and the like, he didn't notice that Ratchet was there yet.
That's when Ratchet opened his hold, then with a flourish like some old time magician, he pulled out his ensemble and began to create another masterpiece.
Of lunacy.
=0=TBC 5-15-19 edited 5-18-19