The Diego Diaries: Game Changer 12 (dd3-3)

=0=Barricade

He sat at the table enjoying the football game playing overhead on the wall's many monitors. Cheers sounded when the play was good and sympathetic groans when the play went badly. The Altihex Attitudes were playing the Martian Marauders and the game was surprisingly good.

Barricade enjoyed it, finding the atmosphere in the club home like and comforting. He spent time here everyday and had never acted to jeopardize things. He was smarter than that. Sitting in a cell all day long every day for the rest of his life was out of the question.

Stiletto enjoyed the game as well, the little kids amusing and surprisingly scrappy. He was less careful about his demeanor and was prepared to do hard time in the brig to muster his standing among the few in the city that might be persuaded to be an aft with him. He also was determined to raise his stature before Barricade who he knew was no fool.

Barricade had led the most feared treacherous road crew on Cybertron and had an earned reputation as a stone cold killer and criminal.

The sound of laughter, the sound of the Cybertronian languages in the room, the comfort of the cultural markers that made life here so familiar were welcomed by the two but they had no stake in protecting it. They were criminals and the only thing they put first were their own interests.

They couldn't be different if they wanted to try.

And they didn't.

-0-Outside

Optimus Prime stepped out of The Fortress with Prowl heading toward Metroplex District. As they did, a large bot was heading their way, his exquisite paint scheme heralding his status before he even opened his mouth.

He walked briskly and passed several Autobots, jostling one as he did. Jolt steadied Hot Rod as the bot staggered into him. Blur glanced back to watch the bot then looked back at Hot Rod. "Nice."

Hot Rod watched the big bot approach Prime and glanced at Blur. "Fragger." He began to walk toward Prime and Prowl who stopped when the stranger came to them.

"Optimus Prime, I'm Copperton of Capital City. I would like to speak with you about a number of issues of importance to me," Copperton said.

Prime considered that politely. "I would like to do that, Copperton but I am due at a dinner right now. If you call the Ops Center or my office you can arrange for a meeting time that is mutually agreeable."

Copperton stared at Prime, then a slightly smirking Prowl. "Hello, Prowl."

"Hello, Copperton. I wasn't aware that you were in the migration. How is Turquoise?" he asked.

"Not himself yet. He had a very difficult past few years. Our son was separated from us and we were unclear if he was still alive. Right now I want Turquoise to rest."

Prowl nodded in sympathy "He may. We have time for the debilitated to recover. Have you sought employment?"

"I want to discuss that with you, Prime," he said looking at Optimus with a heated stare. Then he glanced at Prowl. "Are your genitors here?"

"They are. Miler is a mathematician with Sciences and Venture is the colony's head economist and economic planner."

"That's good news. We'll be looking them up," Copperton said.

Prowl said, "They're joining us for lunch. I'll tell them that you both are here. I'm sure they'll want to renew acquaintances again."

Copperton looked with satisfaction at Prowl. "I hope you do," he said. "I'll make that appointment, Prime." He nodded respectfully and huffed onward toward The Fortress.

They watched him go.

"That bot is still pompous. I'd hoped the high castes would learn humility from this experience," Prowl said as they walked onward.

"They will," Optimus said.

They continued onward and arrived at the Club right behind the others. Miler and Venture had hurried from their apartment in Vos Tower to join them.

The four entered as well.

-0-Inside

A large group of bots were talking and laughing in the bar as Optimus, Prowl and his genitors entered. The hoo-hah increased with much joking and laughter. Miler grinning from audial to audial listened contentedly with his arm linked through Venture's.

The atmosphere was fun, unbridled and relaxed. In all their years on Cybertron they hadn't been around circumstances like this. Their life was formal and frankly as dull as dirt compared to life here among all manner of castes.

Venture joking with Ratchet who lounged against the bar beside Sunstreaker laughed and Miler was gratified. It was as if solid useless weight had been lifted from their lives.

Bluestreak standing next to Sideswipe who was bantering with Hot Rod and Blurr grinned at Miler. "This is going to be slow going inside. We've picked up a few more bots."

Miler chuckled. "I'm good."

Hot Rod was bitching about high castes. His group had decided to go to the Club with Prowl and Prime. The youthful energy of Jolt and Blurr was a lovely contrast to the older more solid energy of Kup, Springer and Drift.

Lon standing with them nearly sparkled with contentment. He was here in good stead in the company of veteran mechs at arms. He was accepted even as a high caste into the company of solid, smart, amusing, brave, decent mechs and he'd never been so content. He was never more proud of the tattoos on his shoulders, the job he'd undertaken to do for the good of all and the idea that he was welcome.

Ironhide stood with Flint introducing him to the mechs closest to him. They traded shots with him, good natured "I had you in my sights once, you slagger"-type commentary. He gave back good natured shots as well. Tall, handsome, black overall with white and silver accents as given his family style, he was an amazing specimen of military bearing and confidence.

An Autobrand glowed on his shoulder. He'd chosen to put it there and it announced his quality along with the crest of the city of Praxus and the seal of the Prime of Cybertron. Once there when he was just another battalion commander in the regular army, they'd been removed to prevent Megatron's ire. Now they were back and proudly worn by a mech who was surrounded by family and friends in a bar like the one on Cybertron, the bar where they'd celebrated Ironhide and Ratchet's pre-bond seemingly eons before.

The bartender came out and smiled. "You can come in now. We pushed tables together."

The group slowly walked in as the families massed with the others as all entered the big dining room. The monitors played as the bots entered.

"Look. Sunspot's game is on," Miler said pointing to the monitors.

Everyone glanced that way, then hilarity ensued. They took seats, pulling more chairs and tables together as they did. The entire group finally sat as the waiter bantered with them. They began to make their orders.

"Look, Ironhide. There's that intercept Sunny did," Ratchet said watching as their little mech grabbed the ball and ran several yards before being tagged. "What a nice interception."

"He did a great job," Ironhide said. "Little mech has skills."

Tie Down agreed. "That was such a great play. He's a great little wing."

"He is," Ravel said proudly. "You must come to the next game he plays, Flint. You'll be amazed at what a great little wing he is."

Flint grinned. "I will. I also hear Kaon has a great team."

Bluestreak agreed proudly. "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are stars on the team."

"I watched the game last night. Damn fine teamwork," Flint said looking at the two.

They grinned wolfishly, inordinately pleased with the unaccustomed praise.

"We intend to beat Praxus in the championship," Sunstreaker said.

Prowl's indignation ensued.

Sitting nearby watching them, Barricade's expression didn't betray a thought. Flint, a regimental commander who he'd actually admired as someone with few scruples and the right focus was sitting with the Prime and everyone else as if he were family. It was disconcerting. He pondered an answer for the strangeness.

Stiletto watched them, too, his optics focused on the handsome winger with spunk. Obviously that winger had a lot of pull in the colony. He was sitting with senior Autobots in a crowd of friendlies. It was disconcerting. He pondered an answer for the strangeness.

When drinks came, they settled in to watch the rest of the game. As he did, Bluestreak noticed the two 'Cons sitting nearby. Barricade was fixated on Prowl. Stiletto was watching Blue with a slight smirk. He raised his glass to the winger and sipped it.

Bluestreak felt himself freeze as coldness suffused his circuits. Fixing his gaze on the monitor, he decided to ignore the pair.

Sideswipe sitting beside him slid his arm along the back of Blue's chair. :What?:

Blue didn't look at him. :What?: he asked.

Sideswipe looked at him, then followed Bluestreak's line of sight. He looked across the room fixing his gaze upon Stiletto's. He stared at the 'Con as two plus two began to equal four.

=0=TBC 2012 (9) 4-23-2022