The Diego Diaries: Strategy 6 (dd3 435)
-0-At the club, all eyes on us, all eyes on us, all eyes on us …
The atmosphere of the club was high with all of the inhabitants enjoying themselves in only the manner that youth, health and high grade could provide. Monitors around the room played sports games, Earth and Martian as well as music videos both Earth and Martian. The music scene had blossomed as groups had become popular making their music and music videos for the inhabitants to enjoy.
And enjoy they did.
Haro-n watched his uncle with gathering embarrassment. He was nearly sitting on the youngling mech's lap, his servos all over the place. The youngling mech was aghast but just this side of punching Mistermaster out. The group with him was laughing and enjoying the moment. That was what bothered Haro-n the most. They weren't laughing at the moment. They were laughing at his uncle.
He glanced at the others, then stood up. Walking to the mob, he disappeared into it. The others watched with fascination in the same way that a person might be when they watch a spider suck the life out of a fly. The willies are unbelievable but the optics never turn away.
Hot Rod was listening with half an audial to the conversation around him. His optics never turned away from the mash up going on in front of him. Flashes of delectable wings, the odd startled expression on a really handsome face when the crowd parted, then closed … all of it he filed away for later perusal.
"Hey."
He glanced at Sideswipe. Then he sat back and straightened up. Other mechs mooned over him. He didn't moon over other mechs. That was fragged. "What?"
"Why don't you go cut in?" Sideswipe asked with a wolfish grin on his face.
Cybertronians didn't cut in on dances as a rule. They only did when they were slag faced or spoiling for a fight. It was considered rude.
Yes, Emily Post would have a stroke in Cybertronian society.
He frowned slightly. "Cut in? You're kidding, right?"
"Your loss. That old mech is getting a servoful of Smokey right now. I think that's worth a cut in," Sideswipe said as he watched the melee with a grin.
"When are you going on post, Roddy?" Bluestreak asked almost desperately. "I'm going tomorrow."
"Where to, Blue?" Whirlaway asked to be helpful.
Everyone loved Blue.
"Enceladus," he said.
They all glanced at him and groaned in sympathy. "I know but its better than Charon," Blue said as the conversation returned to safer ground. It continued.
Sideswipe sat with a smirk, his big arms around Blue as the latter firmly gripped a sensitive part of his neck assembly. Blue had found all of his weak spots and wasn't shy about enforcing the law as he saw it.
Sideswipe on the other hand found out a new sexy about his Babe.
-0-In the melee
"Uncle," Haro-n said as he came up to Mistermaster. Buffeted by dancers as he stood in the pit with a huge frown, he leaned in closer. "Uncle. Come with me."
Mistermaster who had his arms around Smokey and was whispering sweet nothings into the vicinity of his audials thereby entertaining nearly everyone around them grinned at his nephew. "Leave me along, Hari. Can't you see I'm in love?" He grinned at Smokey, then tried to kiss him. "Come on, my beauty. You know you want to."
It was a toss up who was more appalled, Smokey or Hari. Both gripped a part of Mistermaster, then he began to be dragged away by his incited nephew and his high caste umbrage.
Smokey glad to be clear of the amiable octopus took a moment to get his bearings. Then he climbed out of the dancers and returned to his seat.
"That was awesome. When can we expect the naming ceremony?" Jolt asked with a grin. He barely ducked the fist.
Smokey shuddered a moment, then glanced at the table where an amorous Mistermaster alternated between blowing him kisses and arguing with the mech that rescued him from himself. The others at the table were looking at Smokey with cold optics thereby announcing themselves with the ever discernible expressions of high castes showing their disdain.
Smokey's table quieted as they recognized the look, an expression those who were given it constantly their whole lives could spot in a New York minute.
"Fragging high castes," Jolt said quietly.
Everyone nodded. Then they all looked at Smokey. "Lucky you."
The hoo-haw was loud and long.
-0-Around the room
Mistermaster leaned back content to lull the younglings into a sense of safety before bolting back to his intended l'amour. The youngling was even better looking now that he was (relatively) sober and just that much more 'face-able. He was sure this was the one. (For now)
His nephew was hung up on caste. He, himself was not so much. He'd taken advantage of the benefits but he didn't have the hard kernel of hatred inside for lower castes that his family did. He liked mechs of all castes and some of his more memorable affairs had been with lower level mechs who had humor, experiences and good stories to tell.
It was a win-win for him.
His nephew and friends sat discussing the youngling and others around the room. Pausing their optics on Hot Rod's table they began on those mechs, too. The mini-cons who were next to them sat together fuming like Mt. Vesuvius but they kept it to themselves.
For now.
Roddy himself was fuming as well. Pent up lust, a fear of being eviscerated in an alley by a raging grand genitor … either one for that matter … angst galore over Mistermaster who sat at his table making love sick optics at his own intended target … the notion of ending up in the brig for brawling ever growing in his processor as the temperature of the room slowly, inevitably began to change in that direction … all of it was contributing to his angst.
Oh ... did we mention lust?
-0-At the homestead
"Did you get a message just now?" Dev looked at his bond who was half dozing in the chair next to him as The Wire played on the monitor.
He nodded. "I did. Apparently someone is molesting the grandson."
Dev nodded as he popped a snack into his mouth. "Do you want to go see about it?"
"No. You?"
"Not yet. This show isn't over." Dev took a sip as he watched the show.
"Okay. Wake me when you do." Smokescreen dozed off.
Dev nodded. "I will."
Nearby …
Drift and Springer entered the underground at Terra to wait for a train to Metroplex Station #1. Someone had pinged them that trouble might be brewing at Club Cybertron so they decided to head back and take a break there. They would be able to ascertain the problem first hand.
In the eye of the storm …
Mistermaster hopped up and hustled back to the table dragging Smokey to his peds with an almost astounding strength. Into the writhing melee they both staggered and the hump and grind began once more. Buffeted in all directions, his senses nearly fritzing due to the flashing of the strobe lights on the stage and the noise, Smokey struggled to stay on his peds.
It was for not.
He fell down hard.
Mistermaster looking down shouted with joy, then leaped in the air to land on top. The sight of it was astounding, then the view closed up with dancers.
Sideswipe stared at the scene astounded, then glanced at Sunstreaker whose cup was paused at his lips.
Everyone at their table including Bluestreak froze, then Roddy stood up crushing his cube in his servo. "What the frag?" he asked.
At other tables that were glancing that way others stood, too. Some did to look and others to rubberneck as well. Jolt and his group rose to try to see where Smokey went.
The mini-cons stood because they were ready to fight the high castes.
The high castes stood to fight everyone as they watched Mistermaster disappear with his quarry in the mass of bodies.
It was then that everyone made their move.
-0-Up there
"You ready?"
"I am," Smokescreen said as he walked to the door where Devcon was waiting. "Let's go," he said and they did.
-0-Drift and Springer
They heard the sound before they reached the building. The shouts and noise were unmistakable. They glanced at each other, then broke into a run. It would take a moment but they would get there.
-0-At Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars
They stood at the communications center watching data coming in. There was a big migration coming but the size was still unknown. Prowl and Ratchet discussed what they could in the form of preparation, then checked out.
Optimus and Ironhide had gone ahead to get the infants and take them home. They would follow and dinner would be had together. Loose ends of an incoming problem needed to be worked out. When they were they headed out into the upcoming night for home.
-0-Inside the club, all eyes on us, all eyes on us, all eyes on us … part two ...
The room seemed to explode as the forces of doom collided together in the middle. The 'Mini-con Armada' flew up and dived on the 'High Caste Slagger Brigade' who'd rushed for the dance floor to rescue 'The Package aka Uncle Sexy'.
To one side watching with intense loathing, 'The Good Guys' which included but was not limited to Jolt and Company jumped up to intercept the 'High Caste Slagger Brigade' before they got much past their own table.
At the other end of the room the 'Ones Who Should Know Better But Didn't Care, A Fight Is A Fight' stood up to watch.
For their opening.
They were making bets and laughing until a bottle flew through the air and beaned Bluestreak. He nearly flipped backwards off his peds and landed in a heap on the floor.
Sideswipe who'd just moments before been holding Blue looked at the empty space beside him. Turning around to stare with HUGE ANGST and AMAZEMENT, hebent down. "BLUE!"
Everyone at the table turned around to look at the crumpled figure of Blue who was slowly working at sitting up with Sideswipe's help. Then they turned back and as one surged forward toward the dance floor.
Blue who sat up looked at all three Sideswipes. "What happened?"
"Some slagger hit you," Sideswipe said helping Blue to a chair. "Sit here." He called for Ratchet then jumped over the table heading for the melee.
-0-Careening at the door
They collided together, then paused to let a civilian cartwheel out of the door. They watched long enough to see that he didn't get run over or was really harmed, then plowed forward. They'd get halfway into the bar before being handed their helms as the stampede of civilians and others unwilling to get slagged ran into them on the way out. They were run over, falling to the floor in the shrieking mayhem of the moment.
-0-A second later …
They both lay on the floor a moment gathering their wits, then sat up. Glancing at each other, they stood up as one, then charged forward, getting into the cross hairs of the rest of the careening crowd that had managed to make its way around the wall toward the door. They slammed into each other, then Drift and Springer fell once more under the mindless rush.
-0-Inside ...
Mini-cons flew through the air as big mechs tossed them over their shoulders trying to get at the mechs that were swarming like flies on shit. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were blocked by the hoo-haw as big mechs fought with big mechs, the 'High Caste Slagger Brigade' giving a pretty good account of themselves. But the level of anger and expertise they faced trumped their anger and self defense lessons in a nice dojo somewhere. They went down.
Hard.
Somewhere in the bottom of the pile, elbows and knees making short work of just about everything that he had, Smokey fought for his life. Mistermaster who was oblivious to the mayhem all around them still pressed his suit laughing madly as he plied his undying L(ust)ove.
The mech had style.
Bottles flew, tables and chairs crashed.
Then Prowl arrived.
-0-TBC September 17, 2013 7-30-19 12-03-2022