The Diego Diaries: Incident: Pursuit (dd8 242)
=0=Ops Center, Mars
They sat around the table staring at the blinking light that was a sensor tag put on an enemy ship before they jumped through a bridge to leave the area. Four ships had come and marauded both on Earth and Mars. Now five of them were heading back to The Ruins where the battle group had been but had disappeared for now. It was a slow progress but they were making their way.
"When they slow, we will know," Prowl said mostly to himself. He sat with Tell on his arm, staring at the light as if to will it to give up the information he needed.
Tell stared up at Prowl in his silent world, holding up a tiny fist as he stared with his bright amber optics at the familiar face taking care of him.
Ratchet grinned. "Someone is watching you."
Prowl glanced at the baby, then grinned. "He's admiring his real ada."
"Delusion suits you," Ratchet said.
"They're slowing down," Jack said with satisfaction. "Their group is either obliterated and they're slowing to regroup or they're on the other side of a shiny wall of radiation."
"I hope for the first but will settle for the last," Prowl said with his usual bloodthirsty tone.
"Then we have to get them before they find a way to elude us again," Prime said. "Blackjack and Ironhide, you may leave when ready. Devcon, I would like you to track them when you get in close. If you can bring them back alive, that will be pleasing. If you cannot, it will be understood."
Devcon nodded, then rose. Patting his grandson on the arm, he walked out with Jack and Sun to go to the flight line where a heavily armed pursuit group had been gathered to go.
Smokey the Younger who was working at Environmental between doing chores at the Temple because it was humorous to his elders to have this be so, glanced at Prime.
Prime studiously avoided optical contact because he thought it was hilarious as well.
Hot Rod who was working guard duty at the prison fifty miles away when he wasn't humping it for the Temple as well would probably be as miffed as Smokey if he wasn't walking a perimeter there at this very moment.
It would be a long shift for Smokey the Younger.
=0=At the Prison
He walked along the path that was laid out, a sidewalk that circled the areas where the mechs patrolled. They were heavily laden with sensors so that if anyone ever reached this point without setting off any number of sensors and sirens, the sidewalk would be their Waterloo.
His footfalls echoed as he walked along with his gun slung over his arm. The night was cold and the lights of the prison were specific. They pooled and gave definition to the inky darkness that pressed in on all sides from the barren desert surrounding them. The crater in which the prison sat was steep sided and gave very little view of the colony beyond but for one side that partially faced it.
An underground train dedicated to the prison ran both ways from the colony to the site and back again. Guards and other personnel used it to get to work because there was no open road to get here otherwise. The road used when they built it was obliterated to make fleeing harder in the broken rocky terrain all around them.
He'd ridden the train with other guards, none of whom were close friends. They were soldiers, most of them and gregarious enough that chat was easy. Yet none of them were his age and they had families and long ties to each other through the prison system so he felt like the newbie which he was. He'd pulled his badges and specialized weapons from his locker to get ready to go on patrol when he arrived.
Ordinarily, Hot Rod was a Watchman and soldier, sharing both jobs as needed. His designation as an on-call alpha soldier gave him the most pride but working at the prison was a good job, too. You came, walked around, then left. There was always something going on in the cages all around him. Riding with the mechs on the Watch shift he pulled, nighttime with Springer and Drift was the one he really loved. Riding horses and fooling around was genuinely excellent.
Lights in the cell block barracks helped push back the night. He waved to a tower guard who was leaning on the railing with his sniper rifle. The mech waved back and then he was past. Onward into the cold darkness he walked, onward around and around. He'd hoped to go on the mission to get the intruders but he was still on Prowl's shit list and would be for a while, he was sure.
He grinned faintly. At least he wasn't the lone name there.
=0=Ops Center fifty miles away
Smokey sat at Environmental watching for fires and the like. The entire colonial plant and all its component parts operated in the end from the console before him. He was tied into every single operational system on Mars, military and civilian. Even the building that held the Insecticons in stasis was registering here as optimal. All of the metroformers, the different power plants, the entire grid … all of the grids were optimal as usual.
He was bored out of his skull.
He remembered inputting data just before his amma arrived at the colony with his genitors. He thought that was the worst job of all time but this truly was. Staring at a console of a system so well constructed and monitored in different places as well was about as boring as life could get. He had more fulfillment shoveling sand out of the cracks and crannies of the Temple District than this.
He glanced at the command table where Prowl was talking to Prime. They were nearly helm-to-helm in their conversation. The baby Prowl was holding was super cute and he knew was Drift and Springer's boy. He hoped they'd come in and take him with them. He heard that the ships who were going didn't include theirs.
He'd wait and signal Drift to save him. Springer was enough of a wiseguy that he'd probably make sure he worked here forever. Drift was nicer and kinder. More of a mentor who understood the odd hooligan better than Springer.
Odd, that.
Heavy footfalls caught his attention. He glanced toward the door to see Springer, Drift and the twins walking in. Apparently, they didn't go with the group. Catching Drift's optic, Smokey signaled him to come to his station.
Drift walked to Smokey to have an off line conversation. He grinned at the kid who he really liked, seeing in his reckless confidence something of himself as a wild youth. He nodded, then joined the others at the table.
"I suppose you want my son back," Prowl said with a smirk.
"It crossed my mind. After all," Springer said as he glanced at Smokey who frowned immediately in the prettiest manner, "you have that infant there. Two seems excessive."
Prowl regarded Smokey with a cool optic. "If you say so."
Snickers abounded in the room as Prowl surrendered the baby to Springer.
"How was he?" Springer asked as he helped Drift put the baby into his carry hold.
"He was a champion but how could he be other with me as his one and only legitimate ada?" Prowl asked as he sat back and folded his arms over his chassis. He smirked slightly at Springer who at his point was a friendly sparring partner in their romantic dance of doom around the Messiah of their people.
"How could he?" Springer echoed. "We're not going on patrol tonight. Tomorrow beckons."
"I do have a request," Drift said. "Smokescreen the Very Young is sorry and he'll never do it again, whatever it was. He wants to have his life back but feel free to slag Hot Rod to the seventh circle of Hell. Just so you know."
Everyone turned to stare at Smokey who was looking at Drift with an incomprehensible sense of betrayal. Then he turned back to his console and pretended to care about what it said.
Prowl snorted. "Ah, the command life. Having the power of life and no life over minions who can't keep their love life out of a football game. I'd be remiss in his re-education if I relented now. I'll think about it." He mused a moment. "I thought about it. No."
Huge laughter greeted that as Smokey affected and failed to project an air of indifference. Such were the vagaries of youth.
As someone once said sometime, somewhere.
They chatted, debriefed the mission, then Springer and Drift walked out. Drift patted Smokey's shoulder as he passed him, then the two were gone.
Smokey was stuck.
Devcon was hunting.
Hot Rod was pacing.
Prowl was figuring.
And Optimus Prime was still laughing inside his head.
=0=Home
They walked in having changed trains with the twins as they went onward to Tyger Pax and the two traveled onward to Iacon and home. No one was in the lobby when they arrived at their tower and the ride to their floor was swift. The corridor was oddly cold and bereft of its usual life given that no one was out and the night lighting was on. They entered and walked to the living room to sit and relax a moment.
Drift pulled Tell out and held him up in his blanket cocoon. "Hi, baby."
Tell smiled brilliantly.
Drift held him out for Springer who took him and laid him against his shoulder. Heat gathered there and the baby fell back to sleep almost instantly. "It's good to be home."
Drift nodded. "Tomorrow he gets another treatment. 0900. I hope they find out this is the last one. I hate it when he's sick."
"I know," Springer said. "I can't wait for him to hear. Those toys of his have a lot of sounds. Especially the little train engine."
Drift grinned. "Thomas the Tank Engine?"
Springer snickered. "Yeah. I like that one though his face is sort of nightmarish. Tell likes that one a lot."
Drift nodded. "Home feels good."
Springer nodded as he glanced around the place. It was oddly immaculate and now reflected the influence of a child. A toy box was near the window and his playpen with plush toys and blankets looked oddly empty. "We can stay home with him after his treatment. I'll order breakfast in."
"Sounds good. I would usually be glad to go with the group but not tonight. Maybe when he hasn't gotten any health problems it'll be easier to go," Drift said.
Springer nodded. "I hear ya," he said as they sat together in their home holding their son as they watched the night lights out the window. It was way nicer than a fox hole in the middle of nowhere.
=0=Tyger Pax
They slipped in, both of them, noting a light on in their berth room. Checking the kids as they walked that direction, then entered to find Bluestreak sitting on the berth watching the news with the sound down.
"Hey," Sideswipe said as he plopped down beside Blue. Kissing him, he glanced at the monitor. "We're getting blasted on Earth. Right?"
Bluestreak nodded as he moved a tiny bit for Sunstreaker. Kissing him, he glanced at the monitor. "That's putting it lightly."
They would watch the news grim faced as it rolled out on the monitor. No one nowhere was happy.
=0=Home
Ratchet checked the kids, then watched as Ironhide tucked Halo in with Hero. Walking to the berth room, he flopped down. "Get some recharge, Old Mech. Tomorrow comes in about five minutes, I think."
Ironhide walked in, shut off the lights, then lay down himself. "I'm glad I didn't go on the mission. Does that make me officially old?"
"No," Ratchet said with a grin. "That makes you officially smart."
"Oh, ha-ha, Ratchet," Ironhide said with a chuckle. "Good night, you old reprobate."
"Using your safe word never works for me, Ironhide," Ratchet said with a chuckle as he snuggled closer to Ironhide's huge frame. "Good night."
The night would be long and quiet.
=0=TBC 8-31-2021
ESL:
Waterloo: A famous battle here Napoleon lost the war and ended up in jail until he died. It was a naval battle with Lord Nelson of Great Britain and the French forces. When someone 'meets their Waterloo' it means they get whipped (defeated) up 'one side and down the other' as my old Appa used to say. :D:D:D
gregarious: (gray-gair-EEE-us) easy going and friendly, outgoing, easy to talk to and friendly.