The Diego Diaries: Interlude 5
-0-At the prison
They stood together, Kup, Drift, Springer and Ironhide. Behind them watching with curious optics, Lon was kibitzing. Inside, the guards had gone to find the two prisoners who would be taken one-by-one to the Fortress and the interrogations held in separate conference rooms.
Topspin, Sandstorm and Smokescreen waited as well to offer a secure guard for Motormaster. He was big, utterly without scruples, completely without anything remotely relating to empathy or mercy, thus was a hazard due to his size as well. Dead End on the other hand was a dark individual who expected doom at every turn, for every possibility, for everyone. He was to morose what day was to night, a perfect progression.
Or regression if you will.
That he was a good fighter was remarkable since he never expected to live through any encounter he ever had including all of the non-violent ones, the encounters that others experienced, the planets in the orbit he was in and so on. He was a major, major downer.
Motormaster appeared, immense, a nondescript blue and fuming. "What the frag do you want?" he asked as he was marched through the gates in energon cuffs.
"Your aft in stasis," Ironhide said.
Motormaster paused in front of him staring at a bot only a few feet shorter than him. They were old enemies and now was no different. "I'm surprised Megatron didn't make mufflers out of you, Ironhide."
Ironhide snorted. "That old slagger … he can't find his aft with both servos. Rather like you."
Motormaster lunged but was blocked, moved backwards to stand pinned with an expression of pure hatred on his face. "Take these off and I'll show you what's what."
"Like you think you can show Optimus? How many times did you take a run at Prime and he punched you straight into the ground? I remember three memorable ones myself," Ironhide said nodding to Springer. That redoubtable mech gripped Motormaster's arm with an incredibly powerful servo and tugged him forward. "Move it toward the Fortress, slagger. Prime didn't say to bring you in one piece. He gave me a lot of latitude."
With a great amount of cursing and reluctance, the big mechanism moved out with Topspin, Sandstorm, Springer and Lon as guards.
Another mech appeared, this one a red bot with shifty optics. He looked at Ironhide and shook his helm. "What do you want? We've been here forever and all we wanted was to surrender. How come we ended up in prison? There are other Decepticons here, some of them real slaggers. What is the deal?" he asked in his monotonously downtrodden voice.
"Because you're a slagger," Ironhide said nodding to Drift. That bot gripped Dead End's arm and they turned to go to the Fortress. All the way there, Dead End would whine about the futility of EVERYTHING, EVERYWHERE, for EVERYONE.
-0-In the Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars
Prowl stood at the comm center reprogramming a number of deep space arrays. They were setting up a relay line, one out of all the dozens and dozens that linked the Center with the greater outside galaxy. It would be dedicated to any effort they had of exploring the possibilities that there were desperate dying Cybertronians being exploited in the bigger picture.
He paused and glanced at the door as Motormaster was brought in. They walked toward him, Motormaster noting his presence. "Well, if it isn't Prowl. How's Prime? I hear you two hooked up. Did you tell Barricade? He's got the hots for you, Prowl. Always has. What does he think about you fragging the Prime?"
A slap to the back of the helm brought an equal reaction from the big menacing bot. He dug in and pushed back against Springer and Topspin who had him by the arms. Lon stepped back watching the two big mechs manhandle the bigger one. Motormaster laughed mirthlessly as he nearly capsized the pair. As he did, Prowl stepped forward and unsubbed his big gun. Pointing it directly into Motormaster's face, he fired it up. The big mechanism paused and grinned. "Nice gun. What else can you show me? I will say, Prowl. Barricade has good taste. You are a looker."
Another slap from Springer was met with struggle, then Prowl punched him in the solar plexus region of his chassis. He paused bending over in pain, then stood up regarding Prowl with mirth. "You're going to have to do better than that, Prowl. Is that the kind of thing you do with the Prime or are there Matrix games that none of us peons know about? Sexy stuff … like that," he said with a chuckle.
Springer who was grinning slightly shoved the mechanism who resisted all the way into the soundproofed conference room. The door closed and his 'patter' was cut off. Prowl looked at the door and shook his helm. "Slagger."
Lon looked at the SIC and nodded. "He is."
Prowl smirked slightly. "You might want to hang around. He has to go back."
Lon straightened and nodded. "Yes, sir. I will."
Prowl turned with a small grin and walked back to the comm station. Topspin glanced at Lon, then slapped him on the back. "Let's go help Springer, youngling."
Lon nodded, a happy grin on his face as he turned and followed the big Wrecker to the interrogation room nearby.
On the way over Dead End regaled the group with his version of the end of times, the fall of all and the doom of gloom. Ironhide who knew him ignored his patter, knowing full well that the Stunticons were a damaged, hastily created batch of mechanism. That Ratchet would take one on for rehab didn't surprise him. That Breakdown had come along so well did. This one was no Breakdown.
Smokescreen and Sandstorm held his arms as Dead End trudged between them. Kup and Ironhide walked behind chatting about the quality of Decepticons these orns and how lackluster their opposition had become over time.
"I remember when it actually made a mech sweat to fight the slaggers but now? They just come here and surrender. It's almost like they don't try anymore," Kup said.
Ironhide who was enjoying Kup like a fine old glass of high grade nodded. "A mech can't get a punch in before they punch themselves. I remember when it used to be fun."
Kup nodded. "These younglings these days … you can't depend on them to give ya a fight. Sad, really. Used to be harder."
Ironhide nodded as they stepped into the courtyard, passed through the rec room and entered Ops Center. Prowl was standing this time at the table as the group approached. He looked at Dead End like he was a sack of garbage headed for recycling. "Do you want a punch too?" he asked the sullen red Stunticon.
"I didn't say a slagging word," Dead End said darkly.
"Well, that will make you a miracle," Prowl said nodding to the conference rooms. "Stow the buffoon."
Dead End was nearly jerked off his peds and taken away as Ironhide moved to sit at the table with Kup. "You sound peeved."
Prowl searched for the meaning, then looked at Ironhide. "You would be right."
At that moment, Optimus Prime entered the room. Barron, Semi, Jarro and a mech that no one in the room knew followed and paused by the table. "I asked Barron, Semi and Jarro to come for obvious reasons. This mech," he said nodding to a slightly nervous older mech with a white and green paint scheme, "is Pard. He is someone who might be of help here. He also heard the rumors and might be able to outline the general areas that the camps are said to be located."
Prowl nodded. "Good." He turned and called to Bumblebee who was working a shift at the intell station. "Bee, talk to this mech and see if you can find even generally where the location of these bases or camps might be."
Bee nodded and gestured for Pard to come to him, pulling up a chair for him to sit upon. As he did, Ratchet entered the room and walked up. "Am I late?"
"Nope," Ironhide said. "Just in time." He turned to look at Prime. "How do you want to do this?"
"I think Prowl can go in and start the ball rolling," Prime said.
"Prowl had to punch Motormouth. He was being an aft head," Ironhide said. Prowl nodded. "You don't want to know," Prowl said with disgust.
Prime nodded and looked at Ironhide. "You go in. Finesse him. You know how to do it."
Ironhide nodded. Then he turned and walked to the room where Motormaster sat lounging in a chair as he bantered with Springer who stood lounging against the wall. The transparency of the room was evident to the group outside, but not to those inside. They saw beige walls and nothing else.
Ironhide walked around and entered, nodding to a smirking Springer who stayed. Ironhide pulled out a chair and sat fixing Motormaster with a baleful expression. That big mechanism was bound to the chair with energon bonds that were besides the ones he wore on his big wrists. A table was between them. Springer was to Ironhide's right, so the big mechanism relaxed and looked at his foe. "I need to know something, Motormaster. It would do you a lot of good with Prime if you told me what I want."
That big bot looked at Ironhide and smirked. "I figured you were scrapped by now, Ironhide. You and that loon you live with."
Ironhide stomped on Motormaster's ped, pressing his own down on it with great force. That big mechanism yelped, then bit off any further sound. He looked at Ironhide with murder in his optics. "That's not very neighborly, Ironhide."
"I don't feel neighborly. I want to know about the prison camps and slave labor."
Motormaster looked at him, then shrugged. "What makes you think I know? Or better yet, what makes you think I care?"
"We know you don't care, you fragger. Tell us what you know."
"And what's in it for me if I do?" the big bot asked.
"You get to live a little longer. We don't put you on a homing missile and send you to Megatron on Cybertron."
"What makes you think that fragger is on Cybertron?" Motormaster asked as they sparred.
"We already know he isn't. Soundwave told us," Ironhide said offhandedly.
"Soundwave just told you," Motormaster asked with a smirk. "Just like that."
"He and Prime text. They have a private line. We know that Megatron is heading out into the Delta Quadrant. We know he's hunting up allies." Ironhide leaned forward and lowered his vocal level. "Here is the good part," he said quietly. "When he comes back, we are going to give him all our dead weight. We're going to stuff a rocket filled with slaggers like you and send it back to him. We're going to put Overlord in with you."
The smirk slipped a tiny bit and Motormaster's expression hardened. "Overlord? You have Overlord?"
Ironhide nodded. "We do. He's the first slagger that gets sent back. You could be the second one or not. It's up to you."
"You put a lot of store in me caring," Motormaster said relaxing into his chair.
"We know you were sent here by Soundwave to spy. We know he sent you to figure out our strength. We caught you as a spy and that means under the Rules of Engagement you can be terminated."
"You soft sparked Autobots don't do capital punishment. I know. Prime wouldn't do it if it actually helped his cause." Motormaster grinned. "That's why we'll win."
"Two things, slagger," Ironhide said leaning into Motormaster's space once more. "What is this 'we' slag? You are going to get the ax along with Soundwave when Megatron gets back. He won't be amused with things and you know it. And last but not least, what makes you think that Prime would be the one to slag you to the Pit?"
Motormaster looked at Ironhide a moment, then grinned. "Someone told me Prime had gotten tougher … smarter … not so soft boiled. Must be true then."
Ironhide shrugged. "He's got scruples but not when they might harm someone by doing them," Ironhide said making slag up. He knew that Prime was a new book every orn and that the thing he might do under the right conditions one orn wasn't exactly true the next. But Motormaster didn't need to know that. "He would cap a round into your helm for the greater good as look at ya."
Motormaster looked at Ironhide. "I heard things. But I want things in return."
Ironhide slowly rose until he towered over the smirking mech. Then the door opened.
=0=TBC
2012 (12)