The Diego Diaries: Migrating (dd8 478)

=0=Out there

The amount of ped falls from running was amazing as it reverberated off the walls. The ship was filled with high castes who were having a hard time shifting gears into a new way of thinking. The group that Springer, Drift and the Boys were chasing were kids with guns and no small amount of nerve. They were gathered in a lounge waiting for the two to come, gave them their lack of confidence in the new way of thinking complete with rude gestures, then shot holes in the roof.

Given that they weren't really bad and that their nerve appeared to be fueled with adrenaline-like substances specific to their species, their aims weren't good.

Fortunately.

For them.

The punches thrown by some of the mechs were and as the kids galloped away from the fighting, the boys followed. Springer and Drift were closing in on them when they entered another lounge, a big one filled with tense and agitated adults.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO OUR KIDS!?" -all of them

Sliding to a halt in the midst of a large group of milling genitors and others related to the kids they were chasing, all of whom held pipes and metal rods, Springer and Drift glanced at each other.

"Oh frag." -both of them

The beatings and clubbings commenced.

=0=At the jail on Mars

Jail ships landed on the airfield and powered down to unload the orn's catch. Ramps fell and furious individuals bearing some of the finest paint schemes many guards and prison personnel ever saw clambered down in ill humor. Lining up where Winnie wanted them after she dropped a smart aft with a perfectly placed punch, all of them stared daggers at the powerful femme backed by mechs the size of houses.

Roadbuster glanced at her. "Want I should shoot 'em, Win?"

Winnie glanced at him with a fond grin. "You're perfect, Roadie. Remember that."

He grinned at her, this femme who was like a mother-sister-jail cellie to him. "Okay."

Winnie chuckled, then glanced at the row of fragged off high caste femmes. "Well, ladies, its time to go to jail. You won the right to sit in a cage, hold to your beliefs and face treason charges. Any questions?"

"Treason?"

Winnie glanced at a femme about her age if not her size. She was beautiful, brilliantly detailed and looked like trouble. "T. R. E. A. S. O. N. I'd also add blasphemy for giving Primus and The One the finger but that's just me. Guiding Hand and all."

"Frag that," another young femme said. "Frag the Guiding Hand. Frag the whole thing. Let us go!"

Winnie glanced at the others. "Is she alright?"

They stared at her a moment in confusion.

Winnie stepped closer. "Is she alright or what? Is she having some kind of flashback or something? Like she has more rights than anyone else because she doesn't. Neither do you. You're going to jail because you don't have the right to stand on my neck or anyone else's again." She glanced at the guards, all of them femmes who would take them to the femme section of the prison. "Move 'em out, ladies. Their boyfriends are coming next."

"FRAG YOU!" -all of them as they marched off together.

Winnie watched them go, then glanced at Roadie. "Well, that went well."

Roadie actually grinned.

=0=In a brouhaha

In a melee of cramped proportions, Drift and Springer were fending off well placed and powerfully delivered blows from pipes and other steel implements as the mob descended upon the two. The sound of steel landing on armor was sickening as the two slowly were beaten to the ground.

Then the mob began to thin as Hercy made his way forward to the ones most involved in the mayhem. When they, too, were quivering on the floor from being electrocuted, he stared down at Springer and Drift who were laying on the floor watching the constellations turn which only they could see. "Well, this looks familiar."

It would take a moment to get them up and going again. That's when they'd pool the bad news together.

The three ships next to this one were Decepticon. Knowing that, the slaggers on this ship emptied so fast it was funny.

That is, if anyone had any sense of humor left.

No one did.

=0=A bit later

:Springer to Prime:

"Prime here," Optimus said as he sifted through data at the command table.

:We have 'Cons. Any special instructions?: Springer asked with tense but bemused contempt for his life at the moment.

Optimus who was very aware of what that tone conveyed when the big mech felt it grinned slightly. "What happened to you?"

"Which. Which happened to me. Getting beat half to death with pipes in a mob? Getting slagged by old ladies? Which happened to me:

Prowl paused his efforts at a console nearby to turn toward Prime. "Old ladies? Is the Chieftain of the Wreckers saying he's a big pile of fail?"

It was silent a moment, then an amused voice was back. :It was part of the divorce agreement, Prowl, that you and I be nice to each other:

HUGE laughter on the deck greeted that.

Prowl glanced at them and it halted mid guffaw.

"Can I help you?" Optimus asked as he halted his own laughter under the smoldering gaze of his current ball-and-chain.

:Buzz 'em, Dad. Okay?: Springer replied with huge amusement.

"Stand by," Optimus said as he glanced at Blaster. Blaster nodded so he began. "Decepticon ships, acknowledge and identify yourself."

It was silent, then a harsh voice was heard. :Hi, Prime. This is Rando. That's not my real name. I got it for killing a random slagger who was cheating at cards. He wasn't sitting at my table at the time but it was the principle. No one cheated in my clubs. Call me Rando or you can call me Randy. I don't mind that one either:

"Oh great," Prowl said with almost comical disgust. He crossed his arms over his chassis like a prim school marm who stepped in something. "A smart aft. Quelle surprise."

Prime quashed a guffaw of his own, then considered the problem before them. "Do you command all three of the ships with you?"

:I do. I won the lottery. We pulled pins on a grenade for command. I was the one who was left standing. We're still collecting the loser's parts. We had a nice service for them. I don't want you to think we're barbarians or something. That wouldn't be nice would it:

"We have a comedian," Prowl sniffed. "What now? And you're not going there to help."

Prime considered that, then glanced at Prowl. "Thank you, Prowl, for the suggestion," he said as he rose to go.

Prowl's helm nearly swiveled off his head as he watched the big mech rise. :You're not going to this … this shit show:

:Actually, it was a great suggestion. Thank you, Prowl: Prime said with a big grin as he walked toward the elevators.

Hard Drive watched him go, then glanced at Prowl. "I'll go, too. Jack can meet us there."

Prowl stared at Hardie, then Prime fading figure. "Thank you, General."

Hardie followed after Prime, chuckling all the way before joining him in the elevator. They both grinned at Prowl as Optimus waved. The doors closed on the two of them as they headed out to their destiny.

Prowl frowned at both, the rest of the slaggers on deck, then went back to work. He was only mollified when a tiny Home Guard femme of some growing fame for her sweetness under fire brought him a cup of 'tea'.

"My Amma says tea always helps, Commander," she said as she set the cup down beside Prowl.

"Thank you, Amori. Who is your Amma?" Prowl asked as he savored his tea.

"The Empress," she said with big eyed purity.

You learn something every day.

=0=There

They met with Springer and the Boys on the hull of the ship, gathering to strategize a plan.

"I say we blast holes in strategic areas, then enter as one," Springer said.

By now they were joined by Sun, Raptor who would take their oaths or their transponder numbers if they didn't duck fast enough, Twin Twist, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, their group and Payload. Everyone was listening to Springer tell his plan.

"I like that plan but it sounds like work. You trying to break my balls?" Payload asked just to 'break Springer's balls'. Payload liked mafia movies and he liked their trash talk. He'd be anatomically correct if he added 'bearings' but he was a purist so he didn't.

"Work? ALL of this is work," Springer said as he missed the point of the remark.

Drift who didn't struggled to keep a straight face.

"BESIDES … I don't have balls," Springer said just to show he wasn't old and unhip to the younger mechs who were following the conversation with rapt attention.

"You did once."

Springer's helm nearly spooled off his neck to float away forever as he sharply glanced at Drift. :YOU *AREN'T* EVER SUPPOSED TO REFERENCE THAT! YOU AND I MADE PINKIE PROMISES!:

Drift guffawed in spite of himself. "Ball bearings, then."

"Frag that," Springer replied smirking in spite of himself.

Then the Decepticons took care of the decision by shooting upward through the hull from the inside.

It would marvel even battle hardened mechs like those present just how tough the material that made up their codpiece was that it could deflect that many projectiles. Even as they did, the pain was thunderous among the congregation.

=0=Moments later

Everyone floated in space around the ship in silence with about half of them still clutching their codpiece in silent screams of pain. Drift who'd missed that pleasure floated beside Springer who hadn't.

Of course.

Prime who had a through-and-through in his leg watched his crew flounder. :Check in:

They did with cursing, vows of vengeance that would make Unicron blush, a few fears about ever being a genitor and the usual snarky comedy.

Sunstreaker finished patching Prime's leg as Optimus floated over the hatch. "There, Optimus. Can we just go in and slap the slag out of them?"

"I want to try something easier first," Optimus said as the form of Beta Supreme floated into view over them. "Beta, thank you for coming so swiftly."

:I live to serve you, Optimus Prime. How may I?: he asked with his exquisite manners and deep voice.

"I would like you to hit this ship, the one under me with your null rays. Could you monitor those inside to see when they are going to be clear to remove?"

:As you command. Please, all of you, back away: Beta said to everyone in the group.

It was amusing to see mechs flap out of range, some of them still grasping their tender bits as the signs of a ship fixing to ray gun someone appeared in the lights of the vessel over them. It shot out and hit the hull, engulfing the entire ship as its intensity increased. It held a moment, the pulsing white light, then it ended.

:It is done, Lord Optimus: Beta replied.

"Thank you, Beta. Could you stand by?" Optimus asked.

:Standing by: Beta replied.

Prime glanced at the mechs around him. "If you can still walk, we need to go inside," he said with a big grin on his face.

Everyone stared at him in silence, then guffaws accompanied a passel of mechs as they floated toward a ship filled with heavily sedated mechs. It would be a tactic that they didn't have to use on the other two.

=0=Prowl

:I KNEW IT! YOU WERE WOUNDED! I *TOLD* YOU NOT TO GO!:

Quashing the urge to say 'yes, dear', Optimus watched as the last of the crew were carried off to Gee-Gee's prison ship. :I am going to go on a few more. There are four possible Decepticon ships nearby. Hold down the fort, Prowl. Optimus out:

Prowl glanced toward the forward view port where a small inset of the overall picture meshed into the monitor screen with all the others showed Optimus limping toward a hatch to leave the ship he was on. :You slagger. Wait until you get back: he thought with a frown.

The humans who were watching the screen where Optimus was glanced at Prowl.

"He looks lit," a soldier said.

"Look long and hard, boys," Lennox said with deep amusement and intense admiration. "That mech holds the absolute worst shit list in the entire universe. Never and I repeat, never get on it."

"I think Optimus now occupies the first three spots," Bobby Epps said with a snicker.

Everyone nodded.

He did.

*=0=TBC 7-17-2022 7*24*2022

*HUGGIES! It's POURING rain here. Note replies to everyone on the next piece. :D:D:D:D:D:D