The Diego Diaries: Home Town (dd8 226)
=0=In the Jail at the Courthouse on Cultural Center Road earlier that morning
The truck drove into the building and forward toward the desk where the sergeants were changing shifts. Moonie who was the night jailer was updating Walin who was on days. Both of them looked down, then Moonie grinned. "Ah, the rescue begins. I'm staying to watch."
"What happened?" Walin asked.
"Well …" Moonie began …
~0~The night before after being returned to Earth
They drove in, two vehicles which belonged to N.E.S.T and parked before the desk. Moonie, an old school jailer who had come through the Diaspora with his sense of humor intact glanced down at the men as they climbed out along with a human female beloved by all, Judy Witwicky. Two of the humans looked worst for wear. One of them he knew from previous encounters that resulted in his incarceration in the jail. "Well, look what the targs dragged in."
Will Lennox who was sporting a pretty nice black eye chuckled. :Hey, Moonie. Brought the garbage for you:
James 'Big Jim' Johnson climbed out of the vehicle still wearing handcuffs. He had a split lip, a black eye and a seething sense of outrage. He stared up at Moonie, recognized him, then frowned. :So I get stuck with you then:
"Count your blessings. I thought about training Roadie to do this as a fill-in but he likes to punch things. The first time you smarted off at him he'd plant ya." Moonie glanced at Lennox. "I'm assuming you have the authorization to jail him here?"
Lennox who was going through his phone files nodded. :Here you go: he said as he sent the hold warrant to Moonie that was signed by Raptor. :He's all yours:
"Lucky us," Moonie said as he pulled up a screen. "Name, address, etc."
:You already have it: Johnson said with no little heat.
"Name, address, etc," Moonie repeated.
:Fuck you: James replied hotly.
"Mr. Fuck you. Address?" Moonie said without skipping a beat. The data was already on a screen but he was typing this one in another one to amuse himself and grace the note board in the officer's lounge nearby.
:UP YOUR ASS! HOW ABOUT THAT!?: Johnson replied as he warmed up to the task.
"I have no personal preferences here," Moonie said as he glanced down at the infuriated human waiting to be jailed. "You live at Up Your Ass. Is that a street, avenue or road?" He stared down blandly at the human staring death rays back upward.
:Fuck you:
Moonie made a show of typing that in. "Up Your Ass Fuck You. Odd names for a street. Name of offense?"
:Assault and battery. Violation of regulations of conduct while on a mission: Lennox began.
Moonie typed. "I got the assault and battery part. What's the other?"
:We sign agreements that when we leave the planet on a ship that we conduct ourselves properly. Given that so many are going on missions now, we added that to the list of agreements everyone has to sign off on so we don't fuck that access up: Lennox glared at Johnson who glared back.
Moonie typed. "Will that be in the legal agreement section of the Personal Conduct Code for Humans or do I have to search the United Nations agreement for the code and related numbers?"
"Its in the Personal Conduct Code for Humans: Lennox said.
"Give me a moment," Moonie said as he scanned the file for the right codes and numbers to enter. He did, then glanced down. "Anything else? Hurt feelings? Broken engagements? Divorce court?"
Snickers from the others waiting to go home greeted that.
:If there's something about shaming us in front of the Senior Autobots, add that: Judy Witwicky said as she leaned against the vehicle enjoying the spectacle.
Johnson glanced at her. :Collaborator. You're the first traitor. Without your family we'd be free of these fuckers:
:We'd be dead, you dumb ass. Look at Moonie: Judy said.
Everyone did.
Moonie looked back suddenly self conscious, rather like a cat facing a gathering of mice with machetes.
:Besides being handsome, he's bigger than you. He can just step on you and we'd all be better off. How the fuck do you think you can fight these people, pipsqueak? You were just on a mission with TWO TITANS AND A DREADNOUGHT! Anyone ONE of those ships can turn Earth into dust particles. For God sake. Get your head out of your ass and wise up: she said with a little heat of her own.
"Yeah. Wise up, pipsqueak," Moonie said. He began to type. "Nicknames … pipsqueak and dumb ass."
:Fuck you, tin can: Johnson said as he glared upward.
Every mech in the place shifted slightly. Johnson had no idea that what he'd said was a big insult in their culture since they heard it so much, it and variations of it from so many over the eons.
Lennox noted it, then glanced at the mechs. :Don't blame us. He's a defective human being: He glanced at Moonie. :Do you need more?:
Moonie who didn't decided he did. "Yup." He sat back. "Okay. Social security number."
:555-555-5555: Johnson replied as he dug in.
:Not your phone number, Mr. Dumb Ass: Judy said with a smirk. She glanced up at Moonie. :When someone has a phone number on the TV or movies they used fives. There's no such numbers in existence in America:
"Thanks. New charge. Congenital liar," Moonie said as he typed it on the fake report that would be a hoot among the punters for a while.
:That's not a charge: Johnson countered.
"Who says? I want your real number now, slagger. The real one," Moonie said.
Johnson stared at him. :1-800-Fuc-kyou:
Moonie typed it in with a grin. Then looked down. "That spells your last name. Nice way to remember a number. Now tell me the name of the last book you read." He waited with a benign look on his face.
:Last book!: Johnson said.
:Its a thing with paper pages that have words on them: Niall Graham replied.
"The Three Little Duckies," Moonie typed. "My little grandson loves that book, too." He glanced down at Johnson who looked wicked angry. "What is your religious affiliation?"
:WHY!?:
"If you die of a stroke, which you look like you will, we can call someone to do whatever it is you do over your dead carcass," Moonie said. He waited. Johnson didn't reply so he winged it. "Jedi."
Huge laughter greeted that.
"Okay. Last few questions. Which Ninja Turtle do you most detest?"
[silence]
"Which Bad Batch commando do you most resemble?"
Silence amidst the snickers of the punters about the punter in question.
:I like Crosshair: Niall Graham said. :But then I'm a sniper myself:
:Are you going to get that amazing tattoo he has?: Will asked.
:Linda would beat my ass: Niall replied. :Put down Crosshair:
:No. Put Emperor Palpatine: Judy Witwicky said. :He's a dumb ass, too:
:How about Admiral Rampart?: someone else suggested.
Moonie grinned as he considered the characters from a universe that he liked because he loved, loved, loved the clones. A fighting mech acknowledging fighting men. "Palpatine it is."
:I'm not Palpatine: Johnson said hotly.
:Then choose a character. I'll even help you cosplay it by sewing you the costume: Judy said with a smirk. :Ron can by my dress dummy. You're so much alike its uncanny:
:I heard that: a voice said from inside the vehicle she was leaning upon. He was sitting on the front seat as a driver watching and laughing through the window at the spectacle of the moment as he nursed his bruised knuckles.
:Fuck you, Witwicky. Too bad Rampage didn't bulldoze you over in that movie: Johnson spit out to everyone's rising disgust.
:Ron, I think I left my purse in the car. Hand it out to me: Judy said with a grin. :I'm going home and you're staying here. Maybe Prime will do us all a favor and deport your sorry ass: She glanced up. :Moonie, you're on the future bond list. Anything more?:
"I was going to ask him his favorite movie and a good recipe for tacos but this will do," he said to everyone's amusement. "Now that he's checked in our concierge will take him to his suite." He nodded to Copelin, a huge mech who was a prison guard back when Primus was a pup.
"Gotcha, boss," he said as he leaned down and grasped Johnson before he could run. Standing back up, he walked toward the lounge and the wall of clear as Lucite jail cells for the human population when they fucked up. They seldom, if ever did.
Johnson regaled him with a barrage of swearing and epithets from several different nationalities before the walls absorbed his vitriol.
"Class dismissed," Moonie said to everyone's approval …
=0=The morning rush
The vehicle stopped before the charging desk, then a merc or two from Earth2 along with the staff lawyer there, a young man named Parker Perkins emerged from it. They stared up at the huge room and the huge mechs staring silently down at him. The lawyer gathered his guts, then stepped forward. :Gentlemen, I'm Parker Perkins, counsel for Earth2. I'm here to attend the hearing of release for James Johnson:
They nodded, Walin and Moonie. "Wait in your car. The Ambassador will be here shortly and we can hold the hearing in the lounge over there," Moonie said as he nodded toward the door that led to the lounge and the lock up of humans.
:Ambassador?: Perkins asked.
"Ambassador Ratchet was chosen to hear it," Moonie said. "Have a seat and wait."
The humans glanced at each other, then climbed back into the vehicle. They were directed to park it near the door of the lounge where they watched the spectacle.
A moment later, the familiar figure of Ratchet of Iacon came inside carrying a tiny transformer with silvery and coppery 'hair'. She was smiling as she ate what looked like a cookie while Ratchet chatted with Moonie and Walin.
"That's one of their babies," a merc said, a man named Philo who was from Eastern Europe and had an extensive background in the military and special operations. "Interesting."
Perkins nodded. "Johnson is too dumb to be here. He's going to be deported at this rate."
"I doubt it," the other mercenary said, a man named Eino Korhornen. He was Finnish ex-military and a formidable looking muscular man. "Owen likes to keep him around to provoke. Besides," he said as he glanced at Perkins. "If Johnson does the dirty work, we don't have to. Win-win for those of us who want to stay here."
It was then that Ratchet turned toward them, then looked downward.
=0=Moments later
Having stowed Halo in his hold, Ratchet sat at the big table in the officer's lounge waiting for the box that was used for hearings or conferences to be placed on the table. Waiting on it with him were the three new humans.
Johnson was in his jail cell watching the show.
:Ambassador, I'm Parker Perkins, counsel for Earth2 and Mr. Johnson's representative. I'm honored to meet you. I'm also surprised that someone of your stature would be hearing officer for something like this:
Ratchet grinned. "Nothing is too trivial when it comes to the human community. We work hard to maintain the relationship and keep all of our human guests safe. Besides, Mr. Johnson and I go back a long way."
:I don't wish to offend but do you feel that might lead to bias considering that you've been given charge by the Prime to hear this issue?: Parker asked.
Ratchet thought a moment, then grinned. "Maybe but I don't think so overall. Its serving some purpose for Harris to keep him here and who am I to stand in the way?"
Parker stared at him a moment. :In what way, Mr. Ambassador?: he asked.
=0=TBC 8-8-2021