The Diego Diaries: To Be Continued … (dd7 327)
=0=Clubbin'
He reached the club in Retriades that most of the younger military set frequented. It was going well when he arrived, grabbed a beer at the bar, then cruised into the lounge and dance area to check out the scene. It was pretty packed with singles and mostly singles cruising the other (mostly) singles. Everyone was here to get laid and some of them weren't very subtle about it. He glanced to the far end of the place and spotted the set he ran with. Walking through the bump, jump and grind, he reached the table and pulled up a chair.
"Where you been?" Jolt asked. He was sitting with someone who had his arm around him. He was a good looking former Decepticon who worked at the steel mill in Industrial Park City 7 and was known to be a sport.
"Getting here was slow. Everyone seems on the town tonight," Smokey said.
"Its Festival in two orns. Everyone's getting their sin on." A big mech grinned at him, a handsome guy with nice shoulders. He wore an Autobot sigil, was someone who was in the military and worked for the Watch as well from his tattoos. The rest of them indicated that he was single, had been around and matched nicely with his scars.
Smokey grinned at him. "Then I came to the right place."
The big mech laughed as others joined them, most of them paired up or young bonds. The only two sitting there without an arm draped around someone was Smokey and this guy, Barillo.
It was going to be an interesting night for everyone.
=0=Up there
"Little fraggers. I never thought they'd go to bed," Ratchet said as he collapsed on his chair.
"Me neither," Ironhide replied. "What's this slag about you and your hen group going camping in the Valles?"
"Hen group?" Ratchet asked with a brittle smile tinged with blood lust.
"Slagger. Fill me in," Ironhide said as he ducked a fist.
"Well, fragger, we're going to tent up in the Valles, get ripped and throw mini-cons off the cliff sides," Ratchet said. "There's a big group going there to get blasted and I thought it might be a refined moment of etiquette if we helped them fall down the mountain side. I'll be there to weld them back together." He smiled again. It was scary.
Ironhide stared at Ratchet with the willies running up and down his central strut. "A mini-con group?"
"In the campground next to ours," Ratchet said. "I have a plan to get one of those giant tents where everyone can sleep inside, then pillow talk all night long. We can pitch beer bottles out the door and eat junk food. They deliver to the Valles campgrounds you know."
"I didn't," Ironhide replied. "Could have used it in the past."
A fist connected with the side of his helm. His helm jerked, then settled on his short neck and wide shoulders once again. Ironhide frowned at Ratchet. "Slagger."
"Why, Ironhide … you say the 'nicest' things," Ratchet said as he batted his optical ridges.
"Couch?" Ironhide asked with a grin.
"You have to ask?" Ratchet said as he batted them again.
=0=Up there
"And that's what Ratchet decided might be fun," Prowl said as he rested in Prime's arms. They were lying on the berth in the dark after putting kids to bed, checking the sit-rep and throwing caution to the wind. Three big cartoons of ice cream lay on the floor, empties sacrificed to the First Disciple of Primus and his squeeze toy.
"It does sound fun," Optimus said with a chuckle. "That mini-con business … it might get tense."
"I can kick," Prowl said with a grin. "It might be like playing golf with your feet."
Prime chuckled. "By the way … Magnus just told me that Crater District 6 is finished and standing by for inhabitants. Nearby it … just down the way from the junction to Hillside Mausoleum in an eighteen hole golf course complete with the various obstacles that are present in such constructions."
Prowl grinned. "Alligators? Quick sand? Who designed it? Wheeljack?"
"I hope not. I'm thinking of playing the first round there tomorrow on our rambles," Prime said.
"You'll ace it because … what is it Smokescreen the Younger and Much Dimmer likes to say … you're SLAGGING OPTIMUS PRIME!"
They both howled, then they didn't talk anymore.
=0=On the road
They rode toward Earth2 after making the rounds of the Consulate and Unidad. Everything was jake there so they continued onward toward the domain of Owen Harris. The tension had lessened between the Watch and the installation since the murder of the two human mercenaries. They were still getting sued, Autobot Nation, in the courts on Earth and the case was still pending here. The two were still in jail and all was at stand off.
"What about tomorrow night?" Drift asked as they loped along side-by-side. "I heard Ada has a bash in the Valles with a mini-con encampment next door to their own by the way. Just so you know.."
"That sounds like fun," Springer said with a grin. "Are we still detailed to watch them when they go off and get liquored up?"
"I think we are," Drift said with a smirk. "Until they say no, I think we're on the hook."
"Great," Springer said. "Better pack your ruck sack, sport. Something tells me we're going camping this weekend."
They picked up speed as they headed toward their destination looming ahead in the inky darkness of Martian night.
=0=Clubbin'
They danced together, Barillo and Smokey. Barillo was fun, liked to fight, liked good looking mechs and had a million stories. He was from Nyon like Hot Rod, though he didn't know Roddy personally. That part was okay because Smokey unloaded on him about what a jerk Roddy was, etcetera, etcetera, ETCETERA!
Barillo who had deduced someone had his little spark broken listened with a grin to Smokey bitch. He was a real good looking kid, this one, and something about him reminded Barillo of someone else. Then he found out. This was Devcon's only grandson.
Oops.
=0=Monastery
He stood on the platform watching the velvet night sky filled with stars and the wavering light of the colony below. They spread out all over the dark plain, the lighted habitations, their intensity seemingly blinking in the thin cold air. The lights weren't but the effect was interesting.
That is, it would be if you hadn't lived as long as this mech who had seen, been and done it all.
Cyclonus considered the week ahead. They would have their part in the processional to the Temple where the Solemnities would commence. He had a place in the group as the Master of the Monastery of the Clavis Aurea. It filled his spark with pride. That the monastery in Upper Tetrahex on Cybertron was getting repaired at an ever increasing rate and that the chambers below that were repositories of their nation's genius and the Guiding Hand were closer to accessing made him feel especially good this night.
Their school was thriving. So were the children. They were in 'normal' families and having a life that was filled with opportunity, fun and freedom. It took a long time for the children to understand that they had choices, could do fun things and be happy. The concept of play and fun was actually foreign to them. It wasn't part of the Functionalist Council's plan of acceptable activities. Once they learned, the Monastery was a different place.
They worked hard in their classrooms learning things under the masterful and watchful gaze of experts in counseling and teaching traumatized and abused children. It was so quiet before when they were still with their families. But now since getting homed with families attached to the Monastery, they were as different as night and day. They made noise, laughed, chased around and played. They came to him with things they made, held his servo when he sat in the library listening to them hear stories read to them by the Master of the Scriptorium and gave praise to their art.
They loved him, it was clear and though this was a strange thing at first for a maniacal marauder and lifelong adherent to the austere Way of the Guiding Hand, he had learned to appreciate it a lot. They were pure. Their energy and light was brighter each orn and he was fascinated with their growth. They were his charges and he would do his duty. That he liked to do it was a surprise.
Down below, the colony was getting ready to go into communion with the Powers and The One. He felt it in the air, the excitement. He had met them in the trials of the miscreants that were taken away to reform themselves and it was a life changing experience to see the gods that he loved, respected and admired so much. He envied Prime his access to them. He was glad to have been there for that singular honor.
He gazed at Phobos in orbit, then turned to walk inside. It was cold, the night was deepening and he was ready to turn in. All was well in his spark.
The monk's door closed behind him.
=0=In an apartment in Earth2
"So we won't be able to leave the habitat," Rain asked her dad as she sat with friends of the family who worked here, her brother, Rick and her mom and stepdad, Mariah and Kyle Davis. Dinner had been had and they were chatting and relaxing given the week ahead.
"No. The colony is pushing 135,000,000 colonists. We would be run over out there in that mob. We have a better observation post here," Owen said.
"Besides, you kids can help us with the party. We're having a lot of important guests and I want all of you on your best manners," Mariah said. .They were having a lot of dignitaries, celebrities and other important individuals of fame spend the holiday at Earth2. It would be a week of parties, excursions and meetings with the senior Autobots. It was going to be a big event.
"Annie Lennox and the Epps kids get to go. Can I go with them?" Rain persisted.
"I doubt it," Rick said as he sat beside Cam Frazer. Frazer's parents were also present. "This is their holiday. You aren't Cybertronian and they are."
"So what?" Rain persisted. "If they allow it can I go?"
Owen grinned. "They won't allow you but sure. If they allow you, yes, you can go."
They wouldn't allow it.
=0=Early in the morning in front of an apartment
Barillo held up a tipsy Smokey as he reached his door.
Turning to the big mech, Smokey grinned. "You coming in?"
"No. You're slammed," Barillo said as he opened the door and gently pushed Smokey inside. He led the kid to his room, then got him on the berth. "Sleep it off, Smokey. I had fun but I can't stay."
"Why not?" Smokey said as he struggled to sit up.
Barillo grinned at him. "Well, you're slag faced for one. For another, your amma would cut my bearings off."
"My amma?" Smokey said through his haze.
"You're Devcon's grandson," Barillo said. "Sleep it off. I had fun, too." He started for the door, then left quietly.
Smokey watched him go with dismay, then lay back in defeat. "Slag," he said. "Slag, slag, slag."
Then he fell into the sleep of the very drunk.
=0=TBC 7-14-2020
For my sweet AMB. I heart you. Happy Birthday. :D
Jake: A boy's name or what you say when things are great: "Everything's jake here." Slang.
monk's door: In medieval cathedrals, they have the huge doors that let you in. Usually beside it is a smaller door that was usually used by those entering. It was easier and kept the heat inside if you didn't have to open the big ones. Usually it wasn't ornate but it could be and it was usually shorter in height than the monks. That way, you were humbled before you even entered the place, bowed and ready to be penitent before you entered.