The Diego Diaries: CLANG!

=0=Down there

They flew out of nowhere with feet leading their bodies. Prowl landed his ped on Piro at the same time Drift landed his on Prime. Both mechs flew past each other and crashed both into Prowl and Drift at the same time respectively. They seemed suspended in air before momentum carried them past the civilians lying or trying to rise on the floor below them. They'd fallen out of their place in the seating when Prime and Piro hit the wall. The probability of them getting stomped to dust particles was nearly 300% without a miraculous intervention.

They got one from Drift and Prowl, though whether it was miraculous or not was still to be seen.

The sound of the clang from peds landing on big mechanisms was only topped by big mechanisms flying into the bodies of their ninja would-be saviors. Prime and Prowl flew forward, hit the floor, then cartwheeled out of view toward the stairs. Ratchet leaped into the air to allow them to roll unimpeded into the darkness beyond.

Piro enveloped Drift as they hit, then flew onto the court to roll to the quarter measure line before Ironhide and Raptor slowed their momentum. Everyone lay where they fell counting the number of vultures hovering over them waiting to eat their mother boards when they died.

The crowd who saw the mechs and femme fall gasped almost as one, bringing the sound in the arena to a dead stop. They stared, some through their servos as the big mechs began to push and shove, oblivious to the civilians waiting to be pulped below their peds. It was silent as everyone fell to the final resting places after being ninja kicked by Prowl and Drift. It was only broken when grim-faced infants with med-i-kits ran out of two tunnels to do good amongst the broken assed.

Following them at speed was First Aid and Breakdown who volunteered to work the game. Hercy and Kup walked out followed by Lon and Bezel carrying a stretcher apiece. Everyone converged on the slaughter bunched up by the side wall near one of the main exit points leading to the front concourse in the arena.

Prime sat up, then glanced down at Prowl who was laying in a splatter nearby. He startled, then crawled to him. "Prowl?"

Prowl rolled over and sat up. "You alright?"

"I am. Are you? What happened?" Prime asked as the two stood.

"Some civilians fell over the wall when you and that tank hit it. You were going to step on them so I kicked him out of the way. I don't remember the rest," he said as the last program rebooted in his helm.

"I do, Commander," a tiny voice said.

Both looked down. Echo, a tiny winged micro mini-con femme and Sil, a tiny mini-con femme were staring at them with solemn optics.

"You both need to come out and sit so we can see about your hurts," Sil said.

"Your hurts," Echo said as she nodded her tiny little pretty helm.

Prime and Prowl stared at each other, then followed the tiny twigs to the arena where the crowd blew up with laughter and applause. Directed to sit and lean against the wall, they sat and watched as a good fifteen kids ran forward to hit them with their scanners at the same time.

It tickled.

Nearby leaning against a wall as well as children climbed all over him checking this and that, a big mech with a bigger grin allowed it, answering all their questions with a sense of amusement that was delightful to see on the face of a former Decepticon marauder.

Hercy walked over then grinned. "You barely got away in time. Nice kick, Prowl."

Prowl smirked slightly at Hercy. "I try."

Chuckles went around as the kids worked, chatting with Ratchet on possibilities. He was sitting on the ground next to Prime. When they were convinced that they had all they needed they gathered in a huddle, all thirty of them as Coros and Pulley knelt to lead the discussion.

The refs grinned at them as they held their own. The crowd waited with baited breath for the verdict as the last of the groggy civilians were carted off to the triage center in the building for a good going over. The verdict by the kids was concussions for all of them, a broken leg for the little femme, broken arms for the mechs and a near miss with the Grim Reaper for all of them. A 70 foot fall was something that had to be done right.

Ask Ratchet.

Coros and Pulley walked to the refs, told them the story, then waved his group to follow. Prime and Piro got a pass to play.

Barely.

Prowl and Drift were borderline as well but they weren't players to they were referred to their personal doctors for a 'once over, sir'.

The kids were cheered and feted out of the arena, then the teams gathered up again. Prime got a free shot which he made, then they wall went out to do battle again. It was Crater, 6 and Polyhex, zip. When the ball was tossed, Prime got it, passed it to Chromia, then they all watched with futility as Chromia jump balled it into the hoop.

Crater, 11. Polyhex, 0. Maelstrom, everything.

The game raged on with Polyhex getting a score, Crater getting three free throws and the game ending in carnage and swearing. When the siren blew so did the tops of the fans. Junk rained down, catcalls greeted the teams and they walked/limped and hopped off to the locker rooms.

Crater 14. Polyhex, 5. Everyone else: the winners.

=0=Entering the locker room at last

They walked in, the families and friends of the team to a rousing cheer. Children ran about patting everyone.

Sunspot was nearly beside himself with joy. "I KNEW YOU WOULD DO THIS, APPA! I KNEW IT!"

"We did it for you kids. We want you to take care of us when we're old and even more legendary," Raptor said.

"Aren't you older than the sun, Appa?" Arcee asked with a chuckle.

"Which one?" Raptor asked with a wink.

"DINNER OUT!"

Everyone glanced at Ratchet silently for a moment, then Ratchet grinned. "Fraggers. I'm not slopping slag together. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving."

"What's the contest again?" Delphi asked to be ornery.

"Candy. I have my dish made. I call it 'Ratchet's Candy That Wins'," he said before Sun and Jack dumped him into the jacuzzi nearby.

=0=On the way to the Diner

"You look especially shiny," Elita said to Ratchet as they walked along the street.

Ratchet grinned. "Fraggers."

They entered the Diner, got a standing ovation, then garnered half the room before sitting to order and wait for food and drink.

Hercy grinned at Prime. "You didn't know the civilians were fallen around you at the time, Prime?"

"No. Thank you, Drift and Prowl," Optimus said as he sat with Spirit on his lap. "That was a near miss."

"Too bad they didn't have another half time. Imagine what the jumbotron could have done with that," Hot Rod said with a smirk. "They like to make fun of stuff at the half time."

Everyone stared at Hot Rod until he shifted with unease, then Prime grinned. "I am sure that it will be on ESPN's Christmas reel."

Hot Rod sat back relieved even as he noticed Smokey smirking at his discomfort. He would've loved to slap that off of his face but others were watching as well. "Maybe I will, too," he said. "Some of us get to play."

The smirk fell off Smokey's face.

Hot Rod grinned. That is, he grinned until he saw the calm faces of Smokescreen and Devcon staring at him. His smirk faded, too.

Food came, mercifully, and everyone was busy settling kids, getting food ready to their tastes and the like when the door opened and a number of former high castes walked in to sit at the counter. They ordered, then began to eat. It was tense a moment, then the kids made that go away.

Springer who was staring at them glanced at Drift who nodded. They were gangsters from the Southies who'd come from the game. It was evident that both sides knew of each other but no one made a move in a room filled with soldiers, guns and kids.

"What's the word on the shooting arrest?" Prowl asked Drift who was sitting across from him. "Do you have the forensic report yet?"

"Its being finalized. I'll get you a copy tomorrow," Drift said as he glanced at the gangsters at the counter. :If they have a lick of sense they'll behave and leave in one piece:

:If they don't the kids go under the table: Prowl said as he glanced around the room. It was evident to him that the others were aware of the situation. Several of them nodded to Prowl. He nodded back.

"The party is in the usual room. Maxi and Blondi have the contest in servo and I have my acceptance speech for the winning entry," Ratchet was saying to enormous slag.

"What did you make, Prowl?" Devcon asked.

Prowl glanced at him, then smirked. "Its a state secret."

Howling laughter greeted that as the gangsters rose, then left. Only then did the mechs and femmes in the room relax.

"When do we arrest those slaggers, Springer?" Kup asked.

"We're working on it. We think they wanted to have a conference to settle territories but the shootings messed that up," Springer replied.

"It must be hard to be relevant in a cashless society," Hercy said.

Springer nodded. "They fight over territory. What else they do we're still working out."

"Slag them to the Pit," Ironhide said as he sipped his tea. "Slaggers."

Eventually, they might have to do just that.

=0=Later that evening

"Do you have a candy thing made?" Ironhide asked as he walked into the living room after putting kids to bed.

"I've been working on it for orns," Ratchet said.

"Need a taste tester?" Ironhide asked hopefully.

"Not yet," Ratchet said as he handed beer and snacks to Ironhide. "Tomorrow."

They would watch the shows and news, bantering before hitting the hay. Tomorrow, the colony would shut down for Thanksgiving, though the parties and places to go for anyone who wanted, colonial sponsored banquets, would be vast.

=0=On a balcony at a party at Typhoon's house in the Iacon Big Frame District looking out at the colony

They watched the show going on across the vast colonial cityscape. Nothing like it existed in their dimension. Nothing like the organic landscape, the food or the ambiance. This was a new existence altogether. They'd come to visit and see what was what.

Alt Metroplex mused on seeing the vast cityscape that was the body of his alter ego, one who was standing on the balcony pointing out things in the distance. Alt Metroplex was 33 feet tall, just a tad shorter than the mech who lived here in his pretender gear. They were identical but for one major thing. He and his brothers visiting here had no alt formats that transformed into cityscapes. They weren't giants who had to have pretender gear to go about at ground level.

Alt Fortress Maximus, Alt Metroplex, Alt Caminus and Alt Corsair had only two formats from the root mode that they were presently bearing, the one they usually assumed almost all of the time. One was a jet and the other a big car.

That was it. The tallest frames in the domain of Megatronus Prime felt like mice in the company of their alter egos. It was the strangest feeling that any of them ever had before in their lives.

=0=TBC 11-27-2022