The Diego Diaries: Aftermath (dd7 52)
=0=Jailhouse, District 2, City 4
It wasn't hard to pull him back as Haro-n lunged at the desk sargent. He was cuffed, drunk and messed up.
Moto glanced at his crew that had beaten the cops to the job, then grinned. "Thanks, boys." He sat back waiting as two of them pulled the kid to his peds. He was seething with fury.
"How about we start again?" Moto suggested.
"How about you frag yourself and let us go?" Haro-n spat.
"He thinks you're the judge, boss," Roadbuster said. "What about I give him an educate with my fist?"
Ratchet snickered. "I think you've been looking at memes on the internet, Roadie."
Roadbuster glanced at Ratchet. "Memes?" he asked as the group snickered, then put him on the internal mailing list for every cat and dog, frog, chicken and donkey meme they could find.
"Name, occupation, address … that sort of thing," Moto said. "We want to make sure your ada gets the right one back when he comes to get you out of prison."
"I'm not telling you a fragging thing," Haro-n said.
Moto glanced at Roadie. "Put him in a cell. Alone."
Roadie nodded, gripped the kid with a servo that could crack concrete, then they both walked out. That left half a dozen others. They didn't look friendly either.
Ratchet shook his helm. "Give the nice mech your details and you can go park your aft on a soft bunk and sleep it off. Unless, of course, you want the antidote?"
They stared silently at him, then Ratchet grinned. "Do it the hard way. That's really smart."
None of them gave their details but Prime gave Moto starting references because he and Ratchet had access to anyone's transponder details by virtue of their jobs. They were hauled away as well. It was silent a moment.
"What ya reading, Moto?" Springer asked as he lounged against the surround behind which he sat with his stuff and computer. There was a stack of books, all of them fat, all of them from Earth.
"I'm giving myself an educate," Moto said with a grin as Roadie walked out with the other slaggers. "I'm reading something called 'Moby Dick'."
Everyone scanned it, three read it in three seconds flat, then all of them stared at Moto.
"Deep stuff, Moto. Write me a book report and I'll see to it that you never have to pay for dental again," Ratchet said to raucous laughter.
They chatted a moment, then walked out to go home. It was still dark enough to make it count.
"So we have known hot helms going toe-to-toe with gangsters," Prowl said as Springer walked behind them. He, Drift and those with them were following a beat tonight. "What if this starts a vendetta?"
"I hope not," Springer said as they ambled along toward The Fortress. "All we need is shooting among the slagger set."
"Then we crack down on gangs," Prowl said as he Machiavellied a plan together. "Let them know the price of doing business as usual."
"Hauser can get on it. I think I want to go see what the situation is in the hospital in Retriades," Springer said as they began to part ways.
Prime watched them go, then led his group toward the Tower where they all lived. Reaching it, they rode upward to the 24th floor to let Ironhide and Ratchet off, then continue upward to the Penthouse. Sneaking in, they made it past his slumbering genitors on the couches nearby to the berth room where both of them crashed for what was left of the night.
Down below, Ratchet and Ironhide walked in, staggered to the berth room and fell on their faces. They would stay that way until the alarm rang.
=0=Early morning
The streets were busy with delivery trucks going about their business in the still dark cities. A cab passed by some of them as they pulled into loading zones to begin to provision shops, stores of all manner, restaurants and even bars. Mechs from any number of different places welcomed in deliveries of the things they needed and ordered from the commercial division of the Foundry Exchange.
Springer and Drift minus the others who had ambled off for home walked along the streets of Tyger Pax. They had gone to the hospital, talked to doctors who told them that everyone would survive, then called for a detective to get their statements when they were out of Intensive Care. They then left, all of them, to walk a beat.
It had been amusing among them, about half related to the others as they helped the lost, over energized and downright crabby on their way. Horse patrols met them, paused long enough to report the temperature of the colony, then move onward. Occasionally a police van or a medical vehicle would pass by on their way to this or that call out. It was a normal night considering. Perhaps Primus and The One had a hand in it.
They would continue onward until shift was over, then head for The Diner On The Corner in The City for breakfast with the old folks and fam.
=0=Later that morning
Kestrel sat up on the couch, then tapped Tagg gently.
He glanced at Kes, then sat up as well. "What time is it, Kestrel?" Tagg asked.
"Its 0730 on the TMC," Kes said as he stood up. "We need to see what's what here. I think we have all the children. I wonder if Prowl and Orion are home yet?"
Prowl walked out of the corridor nearby with Possibility in his arms. The baby smiled and waved an arm at them when he saw them. "You rang? We got home joors ago and saw you resting so we didn't disturb you," he said as Kes took the baby into his arms.
Possibility smiled at him, then patted his face.
Kestrel smiled back. He glanced at Prowl. "How can we help you, Prowl?" he asked.
"You can watch him while I check everyone. We're going to the Diner. Can you come as well?" Prowl asked as he paused in the corridor a moment.
Kes glanced at Tagg who nodded. "Yes. We can help with the children."
Prowl grinned, then walked onward to disappear into the corridor beyond.
Kes and Tagg sat. They grinned at Possibility. "How is our sweet little mech?" Kes asked.
Possibility smiled broadly, then began to chew on his fist. It was a very contented duo that waited for the rest to wake up.
=0=Here and there
Two police vans passed them as they walked on the street heading for the Metro to go to The City. It was early but not so early that it was dark. Light was beginning to gather on the horizon as the sun finally began to peep over the mount of Olympus Mons. It would be cold but sunny on this, the second day of the four day Festival of Primus. No schools would be open for the next three but most businesses would be opening shortly.
Big frames were walking toward the Metro to go to the Hangar District and a get together by all of the Supremes and those Titans who weren't busy with this and that. Pretender gear had made them all mobile in the colony and some of them actually kept homes in Fort Max and Metroplex. Even Fort Max kept a place.
Among them was Metrotitan carrying a happily chatting little imp, 2-Lip who was telling them about an art show at the Museum in Bern that was showing cartoon art from Earth. They were hand painted cels, showed all manner of very famous cartoons and she and Tyke were going.
Tyke walked along with her on his servo, deeply contented in a way he had never felt before. The idea of family and maybe some fine orn kids of his own was strange territory for a big frame to consider.
Then Swan came. And Teatro.
They were miraculous. They were also tremendously cute. They were miniature versions of their adult genitors down to the finials and visors. Both of them were fast friends, played together in their sand box at their home and at a very elaborate construction site' they had built with the help of Uncle Beta, Uncle Xantium and Auntie Kappa.
Those two kids were golden.
Now he strolled with the littlest of femmes who had a spark as big as the universe. She was nearly graduated from Intermediate School, would attend University to study music and maybe, just maybe she and he would bond some point down the road.
A mech could hope.
They motored onward crossing the highway to walk down Cultural Center Road before heading across the airfield to the hangar where the big frames lived. It would be terribly amusing with 2-Lip.
=0=Upstairs
They stood in a line with their little servos held out palms upward. Prowl inspected the 'troops', found their tiny servos up to speed (and terribly cute), then asked them to go to the door in a line like good little Autobots.
They did.
Prowler was caboose on the train and nearly walked into T-Bar when he didn't watch where he was going. He smiled at T-Bar, then glanced at Prowl who was watching with amusement.
Kes and Tagg who had Possibility and Halo grinned, then walked to the door. "Are we ready, Prowl?" Tagg asked.
"I am. I see Optimus now," Prowl said. "We're heading out. Are you ready to go?"
"I had to settle a couple of things," he said as he gathered up the twinnies, Hero, Sojie and Solus to put into his carry hold. Children were divied up, parceled out and stashed. The adults continued out the door for the short walk to the Diner down the street.
They would meet Ratchet and Ironhide in the lobby.
=0=Jailhouse holding cells
He paced in his cell as he considered the night rumble. The kids at a table next to his were annoying. They were discussing football, a sport that he could personall take or leave. He was pretty drunk when he stood up, pulled the chair out from under a mech and the fight started.
It had been a brawl filled with anger and wild swings. Some of the kids in the colony could fight hand-to-hand because their lives were hard and they needed to defend themselves sometimes. When they came to join the Home Guard some of them brought amazing skills with them.
Haro-n and his friends, his social group had skills as well but they weren't in the league with most of the soldiers here. However, others were fair game.
The gun which fired had appeared out of nowhere and then disappeared just as fast. He'd dropped as fast as the next mech and the stampede that erupted had kept him pinned down. It was probably wise. It happened so fast he couldn't get an ounce of leeway out of it.
If he'd wanted to.
He didn't.
He was tired of doing drone, just getting by half the time. Now, he was ready to take it to anyone. It was preferrable to being the victim.
Maybe it was time for someone else to take his place in the food chain. It would take a while for things to sort out. Be then, his family and their representatives would be on their way.
=0=TBC 8-1-19 8-3-29 (Happy Birthday, my dear sweet Timmy)
ESL:
beat: a route cops take when they're on foot. I think it sort of told how your feet felt at the end of shift. Walking a beat: following a designated path on foot by a cop.