The Diego Diaries: Jammin' (dd8 502) NO EDITS YET. SORRY.
=0=In the city
They rode down an alleyway searching for the kids after having broken into two groups to head them 'off at the pass' as the cowboys would say. Into the dimly lit side street between towers that allowed workers and sanitation folks to enter they clopped. The horses hooves echoed off the dark sides of towers that would take Cybertronian optics to see clearly to the top.
Gang sign adorned the walls, the red smear of the new one and the familiar gray lines, three of them parallel to each other that announced the Shadow Gang, one that was as elusive as their name. They met up with the others at the end of the alley and glanced around.
"The slaggers got away. I don't think the superintendents allow too many to have the combinations of the outside doors. They can't be hiding in the buildings," Whirlaway posed. "My super doesn't allow even members of his family to have those codes."
Hercy nodded. "Same here. Unless they know how to climb smooth sided buildings like insects then we missed something here." He glanced up and saw nothing that looked out of place. "Well, we can keep going."
That's when they got a call of a fight in a restaurant in City 3, District 2 or C3-D2 as it was called in the shorthand of the colonials who lived here. They rode out to the highway and cut across country to the establishment.
=0=Ratchet
He walked to the bridge to go back to the migration. He'd gone over the details of the administrators who he left to run his show while gone, breaking up the load so that data could be as much first hand by them as possible. A short trip to home for a hug-n-kissin', then onward again.
He walked through the bridge then exited on the hangar deck of Camber. Walking to the elevator, he rode up, sideways, backwards, up, sideways and up again before arriving. Stepping out, he ambled to the command table where Prowl and a number of mechs labored. Sitting in a chair, he leaned back with a slight weariness. "What's happening so far?"
"We're approaching three million taken through. Magnus and Jetta have that in hand. Right now its a noticeable dent in the migration having that many taken care of. How's things back home?" Prowl asked.
"Crowded. Excited. Its going to take a while for this many to absorb into the zeitgeist. See what I did there?" he asked with a giant smile.
"No."
Ratchet smirked at Prowl. "Soooo, Granny Panties, what's the Messiah doing? I don't see him here."
Prowl frowned, then leaned forward. "Getting his ass shot off."
Ratchet considered that. "Shot again?"
"IS THERE ANY OTHER!?"
Everyone on deck startled, then glanced at Prowl whose frown drove them back to their work.
Ratchet grinned. "Do I make an announcement not to worry but that you're just constipated or are you going to apologize to them when I leave?"
Prowl smirked at him. "Frag you, goof ball. Go find Optimus. Fix his boo-boos and tell him I'm fragged off."
Ratchet snickered. "Your command is my gossip on Bull Horn." With that, he walked out to do whatever it was he did.
Prowl smirked as he left, then bent to the task again.
=0=Out there
It took a moment to find him but when Ratchet slid off his Seeker cab to sail headfirst into the open hatch of a cruiser, he hit the far wall of the corridor's bulkhead hard. Floating back, he looked around. There were fritzing lights and the gravity was off. It would take a lot of staggering around with magnetic peds or a push off of the walls to propel himself along. He elected to push off.
Away he went waving his arms like he was doing the breast stroke in the Olympics.
=0=At a restaurant with a bar in C3-D2
They rode up just as the local constables were wrapping up the fight. It was between two big mechs at the bar. A group of kids that had the 'refugee glow' about them watched from the curb. They weren't caught in the fight but had followed it outside to watch before the Watchmen from the nearby substation arrived to halt things.
One of them, a big kid walked over to Springer. "What are those?" he asked as he pointed to King who Springer rode almost exclusively. "I've never seen one of those before. Are they also on Cybertron? No one ever said so to me."
"This is a horse, the Cybertronian version. They resemble horses on the neighboring planet Earth. We liked them so much we had to make our own," Springer said.
"They aren't sentient?" the kid asked with surprise as he rubbed King's nose.
"No. They are. They're protoform devised and Well granted," Drift said.
The other kids walked over to look at the horses, chat up the Watch while the others carted the two off to jail. By the time the patrol left several of the kids would be seeking employment with the mechs and policing while a couple of others would go to the Stables and learn how to take care of and ride horses.
Win-win.
=0=Kappa
She stood in the hangar talking to Beta who was still in the sling getting the cowling under his armor overlay placed back on his body. He was nearly finished, this first step toward moving him outside where he would transform into ship mode for the placement of the huge plates that made up his outer armor. "You're nearly done, Beta," she said as she rubbed his servo.
"I'll be glad to be free of this harness, Kappy," Beta said wearily.
"Soon, brother," Kappa said.
When the cowlings were finally placed the process of allowing Beta to be free and stand by himself would begin. A couple of joors after that Kappa would help him walk to the runway next to the hospital where he would slowly transform to ship format.
"We're going to go slowly, Beta, when we walk out. You might be unsteady," Kappa said.
"Is there anyone around to help with this, Kappy? I don't know how steady I am as yet," Beta replied.
"I will check," Kappa replied.
A short time later the heavy treads of Gamma Supreme could be heard before his handsome concerned face peered inside the hangar. "How are you, Beta?" he asked anxiously.
"I feel nearly myself," Beta said as the second-to-the-last plate was swung into place. Sparks flew as the welders did their job.
"BETA!"
Everyone glanced downward.
"Beta, we're going to move the gantries and scaffolding before we release you. Okay?" a worker bee said.
He glanced downward. "Yes. Thank you, Marti."
"No problem, brother," Marti said as he hurried to help clear the area for a trip to the runway turnoff next to the hangar where Beta would transform into a ship. After the work given him, he would fly to Diego Garcia for a few orns in the hot, hot sun. It would be a very welcomed tie down for a while.
=0=Home
He sat by the window finishing up a book that he got from a friend. It was a mutual interest, the history of his city state and when he finished it he sat back to watch the lights out the window. It was late but he wasn't working the next orn. He decided to try 'days off' to see what that was about.
He loved it.
Periodic was attending college full time without making a choice of major course of study yet. He, himself had a degree from the olden orns but he didn't want to work in finance again. He'd try something else but he still worked as a lawyer for the firm that had taken him in when he was released from the Caste Court. He felt an obligation to them but the work wasn't pleasing anymore.
He wanted more.
What it was still wasn't clear but it was out there waiting for him to discover it. Rockwell sat comfortably in his chair as at the desk in the office nearby Periodic was finishing up his class work. When that was so he would walk out, sit beside Rockwell and enjoy the view with him.
Such was the life now.
=0=Ratchet
He floated down the corridor until he came to the bend in it. One way led into darkness and the other led into a fire fight. He waited to see which was the better path to follow as the gunfight got closer and closer to him. He ducked down the dark corridor to disappear.
=0=Prowl
:Prowl:
:What? Did you find Optimus?:
:I did:
:What's happening?:
:Well, Prowler, there's a fire fight going on. Don't worry about it. I brought my biggest medi-kit:
Prowl would be halfway to the elevator before Paragon hit the deck.
=0=Prison
They kept coming until the flood became a trickle. The 'Cons had been targeted and among the many thousand who were coming to genuinely give up and live the life were a few hundred who weren't. Those were the groups rounded up and though the odd few arrived it was winding down on their sorry asses.
Polity stood at his bars in the singular cell that was his now. The prison where he was located was on the moon of the insect world, Earth. Luna Base was nearby, a Seeker commanded launch base for protecting the Earth. It was once a minimum security lockup but now it was maximum security.
It was modified to hold problematic officers who were segregated against conversations that weren't supervised. Given the toxicity of the inmates including several serial killers from here and Cybertron as well.
Somewhere in this place his second, his personal paramour was held along with a number of 'big fish' but names were never supplied. At least he was in an 'exclusive resort', he thought bitterly as he stared at the never changing scenery around him.
He was bored to tears.
=0=TBC 8-16-2022
=0=ESL:
Zeitgeist: (zite-guy-st) the defining spirit or mood of a particular period of history as shown by the ideas and beliefs of the time. "The crowd of newcomers got the spirit of the times by their sense of unity in the moment."
Like that. :D
