Riding Herd
This fic sparked by this bunny, buffalo, those little birds that ride on said buffalo, and Veji's cowboy!TFs.
Title: Riding Herd
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Characters: Datsuns. Trucks.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing. Crack.
//Bluestreak! Smokescreen!//
It wasn’t just the urgency of the public comm., but the fact that it was Prowl on the other end who sounded so alarmed that had them scrambling to carry out his orders. Skidding ‘round the corner to see the black and white Datsun speeding towards the doors of the Ark, the other two transformed as well, doing all they could to catch up. Drawing alongside the SIC, Smokescreen shouted.
“Prowl! What’s going on?”
The mech’s answer prompted much cursing from the diversionary tactician, and a groan from Bluestreak.
“It’s a convoy.”
= = =
Trailbreaker had his head buried in a pile of datapads, trying to make a dent in both Prowl and Smokescreen’s tactical duties. In another corner, Jazz had a similar pile, only bigger and made up of the Prime’s usual work and the rest of the SIC’s, sharing it with Ironhide. When Hound came into the room, laden with the energon cubes he’d brought for them, the black mech looked up when a ration was deposited on his table to thank his friend, only to stop at the holographer’s expression.
“Hound?” A thought occurred to the defense mech, and his next words were worried. “You’re not…”
“What? Oh, no, no. Just wondering when today was going to start making sense. We’ve got so many ‘Bots gone AWOL, including Optimus and Prowl.”
Hound sounded like his world had decided to upend itself without so much as a warning. Jazz chuckled, coming over for a cube. “It’s alright, it’s not something they can help. Base programming coming to the fore and all. Frag, I can’t believe we didn’t run into this earlier.”
“You knew about this?”
“When your boss is a big aft truck, you learn some things pretty fast.”
“Then… what’s going on?”
“It’s a convoy.” Ironhide muttered, and the Jeep turned to look at him. “What?”
“Truck types get into these... moods. Then they go to alt form and bust out, driving hell for leather to Primus only knows where. Tends to happen to a whole lot of them all at once too. They can’t stop it, can’t really control it, best thing to do is keep out of their way until it passes.”
“But… Prowl and Blue’ and Smokescreen aren’t trucks!”
“They’re a different sort. Don’t get the urge, but one of their frame type’s functions on Cybertron was to keep track of the convoys when they happened. Big old group of trucks, all of them not exactly firing on all cylinders, gonna need a few working CPUs calling the dance.” The weapons master shrugged, and Hound looked like he had an epiphany.
“Oh. So that’s why Prowl climbed onto Optimus.”
Trailbreaker choked on his energon. “He what?”
The green mech snickered and pulled up a quick holographic vid. The others watched as a police car overtook a trailer truck, falling directly in front of the larger vehicle. Jazz murmured worriedly as Prowl spun to a stop facing the red and blue truck headed straight for him, then had to laugh as the doorwinged mech transformed and leapt easily onto Optimus, using the truck cab as steps to perch himself on the Prime’s trailer, looking for all the world like an oxpecker on a large African mammal (apart from the variation in scale differences).
“Prowler’s still got the moves alright. Did you see Bluestreak and Smokey?”
“Yeah. Smokescreen’s flanking one of the others further back. Blue’s in Prime’s trailer, I think they’re pulling shifts.”
“Sounds like what I’d do. Anyway, I gotta get to comms. Our mechs will be checking in soon. Be right back, ‘Hide. Don’t fry a circuit over those reports.”
The Porsche waved farewell to his comrades, smirking at the red mech’s muttered grumble, and headed out the door.
= = =
//Prowl to the Ark.//
“Prowler, reading you loud and clear. What’s your status?”
//We’re fine. Optimus seems to be plotting an easterly course. Traffic services indicate the roads are mostly clear and if need be, we can bring them off road.//
“You got them moving in single file?”
//Yes. It took some doing, but they’re content to follow the Prime’s lead.//
“S’good. How’re you three set for supplies?”
//We have fuel for the next four days, send the Aerialbots or Skyfire on a restock sortie on the third.//
“Got it. Get back soon.”
//That will depend on our trucks here. But I’ll try to keep them close.//
“Heh. Good luck, mech.”
//Thank you, Jazz.//
= = =
There was a robot on the truck.
It was a big robot (and it was a nice truck, the darkened windows looked handy to have during the summer heat and sun).
And the robot was looking at him.
Frank resisted the urge to scooch down in his seat. He wasn’t going to be intimidated by another rig, giant blue robot hitchhikers or no.
“Whaddaya looking at!”
Smart move, Frank. Piss off the tin can that could probably turn you and your truck into a real tin can.
“Why are you following us?”
“Us? You mean this ain’t just a really weird little convoy?”
“Well. It is. But I highly doubt it is one a human driver with a destination to get to would want to join.”
“Oh. Then that stretch of trucks?”
“All Autobots.”
“Damn. Where’re you all headed?”
The robot shrugged. “Fragged if I know. I’m just along to keep them from driving off a cliff.”
“They do that?”
“They’re not quite in control right now. So someone’s got to help point them in the right direction.”
“Ah. Like my grandpa used to do for the cattle runs. But that’s a damn bigger drove than he ever rode, and you just the one robot.”
The blue robot paused, likely looking up the terminology, then nodded.
“Something like that. I’ve got another of us helping out a bit further back, and a third on the rest shift.”
Frank grinned. “Well, aren’t you the strangest cowboys I’ve ever seen. Anyway, my name’s Frank. You look like you’re headed in the same direction as I am for a bit, can I tack on? A convoy’s easier to move with than a lone truck on his own.”
“If you want. I’ll let the others know we’ve got a human trucker with us, we’ll watch out for you. I’m Smokescreen.”
“Thanks, Smokes.”
“Word to the wise, if any of them start revving their engines at you, don’t rev back. Please don’t ask why.”
“… Right. Falling in.”
= = =
//Prowl! Smokescreen!// The diversionary tactician was pulled from recharge by the panicked transmission.
“Yes Bluestreak?”
“We’ve got more trucks headed our way, and I recognise them!”
Smokescreen sighed, and started to clamber up to where the gunner was. “I suppose the Decepticons have the same problem as we do.”
“What do we do?”
“They won’t do anything dangerous like this. Are there any others with them?” Prowl put on speed to pull up next to Optimus and the mechs seated atop him. Bluestreak shook his head.
“… None I can see. Sensors aren’t picking up anyone else either. Smokey?”
“Nada. Slag. I’m glad Frank left us at that last intersection.”
“Oh, the human trucker? He was funny.”
“Yeah. Hilarious.”
The Datsun still on the road swerved away from their convoy, moving to take position near where his calculations indicated the Decepticon group would meet them.
“In that case, I suppose we have no choice but to let them join us. At least we can keep an optic on them if need be.”
Optimus had slowed, and the other convoy drew up alongside him, their leader gunning his engine challengingly. Smokescreen snarled.
“Primus, we do not need this now.”
“Aw, come on, Smokescreen. Prime will win, I’m sure.” Bluestreak offered, doors flicking soothingly.
“Yes, there’s no doubt about that, but it’s just so annoying! They’ll all be revving and trying to crash into each other in a moment.”
“Prowl can take care of that, won’t you, Prowl?”
“In a moment. Could you get Prime to leave me a gap? I have no wish to be crushed between two trucks caught up in a dominance match.”
Bluestreak grinned, leaning down to hum coaxing subsonic tones to the truck cab below him. Optimus rumbled, drawing away from the Decepticon truck as the police car slid between them. The Autobot commander’s engine growled, loud and authoritative, and his challenger tried to do the same. At that exact moment, the black and white Datsun between them turned on his sound dampening systems, and the Decepticon’s growl was muted by several degrees. Thus defeated, the other truck revved acquiescingly, falling back to merge with the Autobot convoy, his train following his example. Bluestreak cheered.
“Woo, go Prowl!”
= = =
They’d been moving for three days now, and had settled into a sort of routine. One that was interrupted by Aerialbots on the promised supply run shouting down the comm. to warn about incoming seekers.
“Frag!” Bluestreak transformed, jumping onto the next vehicle in their convoy as Prowl joined Smokescreen, all three calling up their weaponry as the Aerialbots took up a defensive formation.
“Yeah. Blue’, look out!”
“Eep!”
Skywarp had materialised in mid air next to the gunner, easily keeping up with the moving vehicles.
“What the slag do you thing you’re doing?!”
Bluestreak blinked, then gestured at the line of truck types behind him.
“Riding herd?”
“I got that. How in Primus’s name have you been keeping track of them?!”
“Well, we’re taking turns to drive the length of the train, short range communication really isn't an issue with our doors and all, and we’ve got Optimus moving at a slower pace so we don’t die of exhaustion.”
“Slaggit, they won’t get this out of their systems any sooner if you’re holding them back. Why are you’re doing this without seekers?!”
Smokescreen cut in. “Look, it’s not like we could have just dropped off an invitation over your base, weighted with a brick, okay? Better we be stuck out here for a month than have them run wild over anything in their path.”
“Frag. Megatron wants his bots back soon. So. Heads up, we’re going to join you, like it or not. Patch us in.”
= = =
With the seekers flying above them and the Datsuns networking the aerial watch with their grounded view, the convoy started moving faster, travelling relentlessly along a path only they seemed to know.
//Starscream to Prowl.//
//What is it?//
//Road ahead’s out. Human rig tipped over. Get the trucks moving in another direction.//
//Affirmative.//
The SIC sent a series of electronic chirrs to his commander, only for the Prime to ignore him completely and pick up speed.
//Prowl! Get your glitched leader to move his groundbound aft! We’ll run into the stupid human and lose speed!//
//Optimus isn’t responding. I can’t convince him to change course.//
//Damn. Of all times to malfunction. I swear he’s doing this on purpose to make my life difficult.//
Their fleet stopped when Optimus did, not two feet from the fallen trailer. The red and blue truck revved his engine gently, and the human driver pacing next to his vehicle looked up, startled.
“Frank?” The man jumped as a blue Datsun drove up, clutching at his chest.
“Dammit, cowboy! Don’t scare a fella like that! What are you doing here?”
Smokescreen transformed. “Prime didn’t want to go anywhere else. Looks like this is why.” The diversionary mech nodded at the human’s truck. Optimus was pushing against it carefully, some of the smaller truck types edging ‘round to lend a bumper as Prowl tried to keep them from damaging anything.
“Hah. Truckers stick together, huh.”
“Looks like it. Can you still drive?”
“Yeah, my rig’s fine, s’just the box that fell off.”
“Right. We’ll get that fixed in a sec.” The Datsun turned to look at the sky, waving and shouting.
“Oi, flyboys, get your thrusters down here and lend a hand!”
Their seeker escorts landed, not looking too happy at having to help a human, but Optimus revved his engine at them, supported by every other vehicle in the group, and eventually, they lifted the trailer upright and back on, and Frank got it secured properly once more.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
The man got back into his rig, only to stop when he found himself surrounded by the other trucks. “What in the name of God’s green Earth?”
There was a laugh from the blue Datsun as he shifted back to alt mode. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a herd, Frank. Don’t worry, they don’t bite.”
= = =
After they’d left the human trucker at his next destination, a shift in the resonance of Optimus’s systems had the Datsun sitting on his trailer listening closer, then humming in counterpoint to the sound. The head of the convoy started to turn around, and Prowl sent a comm. to the seekers, letting them know of the change. As they peeled off to see their factionmates back to the Decepticon base, the SIC opened up a line back to the Autobot one.
//Prowl to the Ark, we’re coming home.//
Title: Riding Herd
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Characters: Datsuns. Trucks.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing. Crack.
//Bluestreak! Smokescreen!//
It wasn’t just the urgency of the public comm., but the fact that it was Prowl on the other end who sounded so alarmed that had them scrambling to carry out his orders. Skidding ‘round the corner to see the black and white Datsun speeding towards the doors of the Ark, the other two transformed as well, doing all they could to catch up. Drawing alongside the SIC, Smokescreen shouted.
“Prowl! What’s going on?”
The mech’s answer prompted much cursing from the diversionary tactician, and a groan from Bluestreak.
“It’s a convoy.”
= = =
Trailbreaker had his head buried in a pile of datapads, trying to make a dent in both Prowl and Smokescreen’s tactical duties. In another corner, Jazz had a similar pile, only bigger and made up of the Prime’s usual work and the rest of the SIC’s, sharing it with Ironhide. When Hound came into the room, laden with the energon cubes he’d brought for them, the black mech looked up when a ration was deposited on his table to thank his friend, only to stop at the holographer’s expression.
“Hound?” A thought occurred to the defense mech, and his next words were worried. “You’re not…”
“What? Oh, no, no. Just wondering when today was going to start making sense. We’ve got so many ‘Bots gone AWOL, including Optimus and Prowl.”
Hound sounded like his world had decided to upend itself without so much as a warning. Jazz chuckled, coming over for a cube. “It’s alright, it’s not something they can help. Base programming coming to the fore and all. Frag, I can’t believe we didn’t run into this earlier.”
“You knew about this?”
“When your boss is a big aft truck, you learn some things pretty fast.”
“Then… what’s going on?”
“It’s a convoy.” Ironhide muttered, and the Jeep turned to look at him. “What?”
“Truck types get into these... moods. Then they go to alt form and bust out, driving hell for leather to Primus only knows where. Tends to happen to a whole lot of them all at once too. They can’t stop it, can’t really control it, best thing to do is keep out of their way until it passes.”
“But… Prowl and Blue’ and Smokescreen aren’t trucks!”
“They’re a different sort. Don’t get the urge, but one of their frame type’s functions on Cybertron was to keep track of the convoys when they happened. Big old group of trucks, all of them not exactly firing on all cylinders, gonna need a few working CPUs calling the dance.” The weapons master shrugged, and Hound looked like he had an epiphany.
“Oh. So that’s why Prowl climbed onto Optimus.”
Trailbreaker choked on his energon. “He what?”
The green mech snickered and pulled up a quick holographic vid. The others watched as a police car overtook a trailer truck, falling directly in front of the larger vehicle. Jazz murmured worriedly as Prowl spun to a stop facing the red and blue truck headed straight for him, then had to laugh as the doorwinged mech transformed and leapt easily onto Optimus, using the truck cab as steps to perch himself on the Prime’s trailer, looking for all the world like an oxpecker on a large African mammal (apart from the variation in scale differences).
“Prowler’s still got the moves alright. Did you see Bluestreak and Smokey?”
“Yeah. Smokescreen’s flanking one of the others further back. Blue’s in Prime’s trailer, I think they’re pulling shifts.”
“Sounds like what I’d do. Anyway, I gotta get to comms. Our mechs will be checking in soon. Be right back, ‘Hide. Don’t fry a circuit over those reports.”
The Porsche waved farewell to his comrades, smirking at the red mech’s muttered grumble, and headed out the door.
= = =
//Prowl to the Ark.//
“Prowler, reading you loud and clear. What’s your status?”
//We’re fine. Optimus seems to be plotting an easterly course. Traffic services indicate the roads are mostly clear and if need be, we can bring them off road.//
“You got them moving in single file?”
//Yes. It took some doing, but they’re content to follow the Prime’s lead.//
“S’good. How’re you three set for supplies?”
//We have fuel for the next four days, send the Aerialbots or Skyfire on a restock sortie on the third.//
“Got it. Get back soon.”
//That will depend on our trucks here. But I’ll try to keep them close.//
“Heh. Good luck, mech.”
//Thank you, Jazz.//
= = =
There was a robot on the truck.
It was a big robot (and it was a nice truck, the darkened windows looked handy to have during the summer heat and sun).
And the robot was looking at him.
Frank resisted the urge to scooch down in his seat. He wasn’t going to be intimidated by another rig, giant blue robot hitchhikers or no.
“Whaddaya looking at!”
Smart move, Frank. Piss off the tin can that could probably turn you and your truck into a real tin can.
“Why are you following us?”
“Us? You mean this ain’t just a really weird little convoy?”
“Well. It is. But I highly doubt it is one a human driver with a destination to get to would want to join.”
“Oh. Then that stretch of trucks?”
“All Autobots.”
“Damn. Where’re you all headed?”
The robot shrugged. “Fragged if I know. I’m just along to keep them from driving off a cliff.”
“They do that?”
“They’re not quite in control right now. So someone’s got to help point them in the right direction.”
“Ah. Like my grandpa used to do for the cattle runs. But that’s a damn bigger drove than he ever rode, and you just the one robot.”
The blue robot paused, likely looking up the terminology, then nodded.
“Something like that. I’ve got another of us helping out a bit further back, and a third on the rest shift.”
Frank grinned. “Well, aren’t you the strangest cowboys I’ve ever seen. Anyway, my name’s Frank. You look like you’re headed in the same direction as I am for a bit, can I tack on? A convoy’s easier to move with than a lone truck on his own.”
“If you want. I’ll let the others know we’ve got a human trucker with us, we’ll watch out for you. I’m Smokescreen.”
“Thanks, Smokes.”
“Word to the wise, if any of them start revving their engines at you, don’t rev back. Please don’t ask why.”
“… Right. Falling in.”
= = =
//Prowl! Smokescreen!// The diversionary tactician was pulled from recharge by the panicked transmission.
“Yes Bluestreak?”
“We’ve got more trucks headed our way, and I recognise them!”
Smokescreen sighed, and started to clamber up to where the gunner was. “I suppose the Decepticons have the same problem as we do.”
“What do we do?”
“They won’t do anything dangerous like this. Are there any others with them?” Prowl put on speed to pull up next to Optimus and the mechs seated atop him. Bluestreak shook his head.
“… None I can see. Sensors aren’t picking up anyone else either. Smokey?”
“Nada. Slag. I’m glad Frank left us at that last intersection.”
“Oh, the human trucker? He was funny.”
“Yeah. Hilarious.”
The Datsun still on the road swerved away from their convoy, moving to take position near where his calculations indicated the Decepticon group would meet them.
“In that case, I suppose we have no choice but to let them join us. At least we can keep an optic on them if need be.”
Optimus had slowed, and the other convoy drew up alongside him, their leader gunning his engine challengingly. Smokescreen snarled.
“Primus, we do not need this now.”
“Aw, come on, Smokescreen. Prime will win, I’m sure.” Bluestreak offered, doors flicking soothingly.
“Yes, there’s no doubt about that, but it’s just so annoying! They’ll all be revving and trying to crash into each other in a moment.”
“Prowl can take care of that, won’t you, Prowl?”
“In a moment. Could you get Prime to leave me a gap? I have no wish to be crushed between two trucks caught up in a dominance match.”
Bluestreak grinned, leaning down to hum coaxing subsonic tones to the truck cab below him. Optimus rumbled, drawing away from the Decepticon truck as the police car slid between them. The Autobot commander’s engine growled, loud and authoritative, and his challenger tried to do the same. At that exact moment, the black and white Datsun between them turned on his sound dampening systems, and the Decepticon’s growl was muted by several degrees. Thus defeated, the other truck revved acquiescingly, falling back to merge with the Autobot convoy, his train following his example. Bluestreak cheered.
“Woo, go Prowl!”
= = =
They’d been moving for three days now, and had settled into a sort of routine. One that was interrupted by Aerialbots on the promised supply run shouting down the comm. to warn about incoming seekers.
“Frag!” Bluestreak transformed, jumping onto the next vehicle in their convoy as Prowl joined Smokescreen, all three calling up their weaponry as the Aerialbots took up a defensive formation.
“Yeah. Blue’, look out!”
“Eep!”
Skywarp had materialised in mid air next to the gunner, easily keeping up with the moving vehicles.
“What the slag do you thing you’re doing?!”
Bluestreak blinked, then gestured at the line of truck types behind him.
“Riding herd?”
“I got that. How in Primus’s name have you been keeping track of them?!”
“Well, we’re taking turns to drive the length of the train, short range communication really isn't an issue with our doors and all, and we’ve got Optimus moving at a slower pace so we don’t die of exhaustion.”
“Slaggit, they won’t get this out of their systems any sooner if you’re holding them back. Why are you’re doing this without seekers?!”
Smokescreen cut in. “Look, it’s not like we could have just dropped off an invitation over your base, weighted with a brick, okay? Better we be stuck out here for a month than have them run wild over anything in their path.”
“Frag. Megatron wants his bots back soon. So. Heads up, we’re going to join you, like it or not. Patch us in.”
= = =
With the seekers flying above them and the Datsuns networking the aerial watch with their grounded view, the convoy started moving faster, travelling relentlessly along a path only they seemed to know.
//Starscream to Prowl.//
//What is it?//
//Road ahead’s out. Human rig tipped over. Get the trucks moving in another direction.//
//Affirmative.//
The SIC sent a series of electronic chirrs to his commander, only for the Prime to ignore him completely and pick up speed.
//Prowl! Get your glitched leader to move his groundbound aft! We’ll run into the stupid human and lose speed!//
//Optimus isn’t responding. I can’t convince him to change course.//
//Damn. Of all times to malfunction. I swear he’s doing this on purpose to make my life difficult.//
Their fleet stopped when Optimus did, not two feet from the fallen trailer. The red and blue truck revved his engine gently, and the human driver pacing next to his vehicle looked up, startled.
“Frank?” The man jumped as a blue Datsun drove up, clutching at his chest.
“Dammit, cowboy! Don’t scare a fella like that! What are you doing here?”
Smokescreen transformed. “Prime didn’t want to go anywhere else. Looks like this is why.” The diversionary mech nodded at the human’s truck. Optimus was pushing against it carefully, some of the smaller truck types edging ‘round to lend a bumper as Prowl tried to keep them from damaging anything.
“Hah. Truckers stick together, huh.”
“Looks like it. Can you still drive?”
“Yeah, my rig’s fine, s’just the box that fell off.”
“Right. We’ll get that fixed in a sec.” The Datsun turned to look at the sky, waving and shouting.
“Oi, flyboys, get your thrusters down here and lend a hand!”
Their seeker escorts landed, not looking too happy at having to help a human, but Optimus revved his engine at them, supported by every other vehicle in the group, and eventually, they lifted the trailer upright and back on, and Frank got it secured properly once more.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
The man got back into his rig, only to stop when he found himself surrounded by the other trucks. “What in the name of God’s green Earth?”
There was a laugh from the blue Datsun as he shifted back to alt mode. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a herd, Frank. Don’t worry, they don’t bite.”
= = =
After they’d left the human trucker at his next destination, a shift in the resonance of Optimus’s systems had the Datsun sitting on his trailer listening closer, then humming in counterpoint to the sound. The head of the convoy started to turn around, and Prowl sent a comm. to the seekers, letting them know of the change. As they peeled off to see their factionmates back to the Decepticon base, the SIC opened up a line back to the Autobot one.
//Prowl to the Ark, we’re coming home.//