The Diego Diaries: Migration Bingo (dd8 465)
=0=At the door of the 'Emperor of the World'
Springer rapped on the hatch of a ship that was beautiful but had seen hard wear. He'd decided that the two of them, Drift and a crew would go through the migration to 'visit' with the high castes as they were identified. Three ships just visited had held former high castes that had 'seen the light'. Good intel had discovered a large number of ships that hadn't. They were now working down the lists of 'known unknowns' as discovered so far, though it was clear from the 'good ones' just interviewed that there had been several high castes colonies, aka 'hornets nests' that'd been stirred by the 'Cons.
"Oh joy," Springer had said as he expressed his 'gratitude' to the smirking former high castes who gave him their digits so he could update them on 'how it went'.
No one reforms like a reformed uh, former … uh.
Apparently, the high caste colonial network had been wired in together in their region where they'd been routed. The three ships were part of a group that'd been 'cordially' dis-invited to stay in close contact with the larger group of unrepentant slaggers who still 'strode tall in the high grass'.
Westerns.
No one answered.
The hatch door, that is.
Springer glanced at Drift who was magnetized above him like some kind of metallic Spider Man crouching on a building. He grinned. "I think this is going to be my favorite migration this far. An unending list of clowns for the parade."
"You and me both," Drift said with a chuckle.
The Boys™ watched the show, then Springer shot out the hatch mechanism. All of them waited their turn like 'gents' to enter the ship and the resulting screaming match to come.
=0=Prowler
He sat at the command desk watching the data and the slow encirclement of the Decepticon ships in the migration. They were being located with intel from those who were traveling with them as an endless stream of voices clambered to be heard. It was so massive that it was taking Teletraan more time than usual to listen, assess, sort and suggest who, where and how to manage this.
Even during The Exodus, the problems before them weren't seemingly as daunting. That's when Springer's report came in.
:Springer to Prowl:
"Prowl here." He stared at the map as it slowly, painfully slowly transformed the mass of lights glowing there into intel that could be used.
:Hey, Prowl? I have someone who wants to talk to you:
Prowl glanced at the intercom where Springer's half bemused voice was emanating. "Who?"
:Someone from your childhood, apparently. They found out you're Boss Hog and want favors, I guess. Something about the old neighborhood:
Springer's sass was even sassier than Prowl remembered as he flashed through his memory files. "Specify, please."
:Someone named Exiter:
Prowl felt the eons fall away as he remembered his school and the mech who was the bane of his existence, a bully who thought the smart little kid who was accelerated didn't deserve a moment's respite. "Put him on."
:PROWL!? I WANT TO TALK TO YOU! WHAT'S THIS SLAG ABOUT THE SYSTEM BEING ABOLISHED?!:
Prowl felt rather than saw the joy rising through his processor culminating in a smile on his face. "Springer?"
:Yes, Dad?:
"Bring him here. Bridge him to Songbird," Prowl said.
:I live to serve: Springer said before he checked out.
Prowl sat back to muse upon the Grace of The One and how sometimes shit turned out to be going your way.
"Prowl?"
He glanced over his shoulder to see Optimus staring at him with curiosity. "I'm having a moment."
"I can see that. Who is this Exiter?" Optimus asked.
"He's my Callo, my nemesis bot. I was his project until I learned martial arts. By then, he was on his way to a career in finance and I was in the Police Academy."
Optimus considered that. "You are looking forward to this?"
Prowl grinned at him. "Oh. Yeah."
=0=Ground zero on the yacht Banker's Holiday
Springer turned to Exiter who was staring at him with heated optics and a lot of gall. He looked big and powerful, then it came to him. This fragger was a footballer who had some fame on Cybertron. He was a slagger who liked to steal things as well though within the 'framework of the law' as an investment banker. "Dad says I have to bring you there."
"Prowl is your father?" Exiter asked with surprise. "His son is a common policeman?"
Every hackle of every neck assembly among The Boys™ rose like that on the neck of a guard dog at the sight of someone trying to steal hub caps out of his owner's junk yard.
Lon who was uncharacteristically aggressive over the insult until you factored in his former high caste status stepped closer. "Frag you, tin pot."
"Tin pot?" Springer asked with surprise.
Bezel grinned slightly. "A term for a slagger who can't keep his debris chute closed." He glanced at Springer and The Boys™. "A high caste insult. I never said it was a good one but that's one of them."
"Tin pot," Sunstreaker said with a growing smile. "Chamber pot. Pot of shit."
"Shit pot," Sideswipe said. "Pot of fuck all."
Huge laughter from the ranks took over a moment before Springer took back control. Sort of. "How about you and I take a walk to Prowl. Then you can tell old Dad what an exalted mech you are, how your tin pot needs filling and all that slag. Let's go."
"He's not going without me," a smaller mech said with alarm.
"Who and what the frag are you, shortie?" Bezel asked just to be one of The Boys™.
The Boys™ glanced at him admiringly.
Bezel stored the video away for future reference in the file called, "The Boys™: Gods or Mechs?"
"I'm Caution. I'm his attorney," the little mech said with more spirit than anyone could've given him credit for.
"Okay," Springer said. "The rest of you stay here and comply or my brothers," he said turning toward the group, "Nasty (Lon), Cutie (Bezel), Fugly (Sideswipe) and Porky (a bemused Sunstreaker) (for now) will part you out." With that, Springer dragged Exiter out the hatch door followed by Drift with Caution.
Everyone watched them go, then glanced at each other.
"What do you want to do, Fugly?" one of them asked Sideswipe.
Sideswipe who was howling off line with The Boys™ grinned at the others. "I'm not Fugly. I'm Cutie."
"I'm Cutie, Fugly," Bezel said as he stepped closer to Sideswipe in mock anger. It would go on like that for a while.
=0=Bridging to the Boss
They walked through the bridge of the metro-titan Songbird. Springer decided to make a show of it so that the two would understand the power that Prime commanded. The noobs walked silently with Drift and Springer taking in things as Springer led the way. They crossed a busy hangar deck to a bank of elevators nearby. Entering, they rose up, then sideways, then forward and back until they went up to the bridge. It as obvious that the ship was using all its pieces parts given the rerouted route they had to take to get to the command deck.
Exiting the elevator, they walked across a busy deck with mechs and a few femmes that the two civilians remembered, if not knew from the old orns. Prime was facing the forward view ports and Prowl was sitting at a command table watching them approach with his usual unknowable expression.
:So this was your bully? In your fancy school? What did he do? Steal your caviar?: Springer asked.
Prowl fixed a baleful gaze on Springer as they approached. :I don't eat caviar. It was stolz:
Springer grinned at Prowl who grinned back. Stolz was rare, looked like eggs and cost a fortune if you could find it. :Did you ever eat that slag?:
:Once: Prowl replied as they halted before him.
:What did it taste like?: Drift asked.
:Baby tears: Prowl replied.
The three grinned at each other just faintly, then Prowl turned his gaze on the pair. "Exiter, we meet again."
Springer howled inside. :Cue violins and a storm outside. Too bad we aren't on a cliff:
:Too bad for them: Prowl replied. "What can I do for you? Or do I need to even ask? You're here to check up on your entitlement. Allow me to cut to the chase. You have none. Thank you for your participation in my TED talk."
A snort nearby drew their attention to a silent Prime who was reading-not reading a data pad in his servo.
It was silent a moment, then Exiter rounded on Prowl. "Surely you're joking."
"Don't call me surely," Prowl said.
Another snort came from Prime but he studiously ignored them.
"What are you talking about?" Caution asked.
"What I think you need to know and to learn it deeply and well that The System of Exception and all its related poisons are banned from all space that's occupied by Cybertronians from now and until the clock of life runs out." Prowl glanced at Springer who snickered.
:Clock of life?: Springer asked.
:Sure: Prowl responded.
Prime snorted.
"What the frag is going on? Are you kidding me? Who authorized this?" Exiter turned toward Prime. "YOU! *YOU* DID THIS!"
Prowl rose slowly, his expression schooled to calm he didn't really feel. Seeing his tormentor standing in front of him required more self control than he counted on. "You're speaking to me. You WILL use the proper tone and respect in the presence of the Prime."
"Oh, really?" Exiter asked with heat. He balled his fists. "What'll you do if I don't?" he asked as both of them slipped unconsciously back into their roles as children on a playground.
At least one of them did.
The other one flipped the table before him.
=0=Out there
"HEY, FUGLY!"
"WHAT, PORKY!"
"I'M CUTIE, FRAGGER! COME HERE AND CHECK THIS OUT!"
Fugly, Cutie and Nasty joined Porky to look. Everyone else stood by and yelled.
LOUDLY!
=0=Nearby, slightly earlier
Ratchet watched as the flow of those in need came to his command vessel, Phobos. Nearby, the other medical ships were going great guns so he walked to the door, crossed the hall and stepped into a medical bridge to Songbird. He went through the maze of elevators and stepped out onto the command deck as a conversation was heating up at the command table.
Hurrying forward, he paused beside Prime.
Prime was turned slightly to watch the show when Prowl arose, flipped the table, then leaped at a big capable looking mech who looked slightly familiar.
Then it clicked.
Ratchet glanced at Prime who was watching with big optic surprise. "Hey, Optimus. Isn't that slagger the center for the championship football team at the University of Iacon in the orn?"
Prime leaned in closer to look as Prowl and Exiter began to trade bone crunching blows. "Why, Ratchet … I do believe it is."
=0=TBC 6-25/26-2022 7-23-2022
ESL
When you 'round' upon someone, you turn on them to confront them. Cowboys round on cows with their horses to get them to turn back to where they need to go. Rounding on someone sometimes means a fight is going to happen. Old western term. Usually accomplished on horseback.
My cousin Cheer ranched and died at 96. She worked her ranch and was shingling the barn in her nineties until her daughter found out. I love you, Cheer. You were a goddess to me. Cheer Cormie was a goddess.
There's a movie called "Airplane" which was a lampoon of movies in the 1970's which were disaster movies. This movie is filled with jokes and plays on words like the surely comment. The comedian actor Leslie Neilson was talking to someone who said something like, "Surely you don't mean it." He replied, "Don't call me Shirley." Its a cultural byword now. That is one of the best satirical movies, a riotous hoot of a show. You should try it and the sequel if you haven't. :D:D:D
If you need a laugh, try 'Its a Wild, Wild, Wild, Wild World', 'A Funny Thing Happened On The Way to the Forum' … I'll try and remember more. I laughed and laughed and laughed. HUGS!
(I remembered on. Those Magnificent Young Men in their Flying Machines.) (Also, The Great Race)
Some of the biggest stars in the old entertainment genre called Vaudeville are in them including comedic actors from the fifties and sixties. Most of these things hold up so well. I still remember good times when I see them. HUGS!
