[Transformers] Ghost Unit | SICs: With Friends like These
Series: The Ghost Unit
Title: SICs: With Friends like These (#39), co-written with ajremix
Setting: IDW Transformers, inspired by the "What's Wrong with a Little Destruction" 'verse by .
Note: Many thanks to rexlapinii for beta-ing!
Summary: In which both Wreckers and Ghosts are reminded why it's never good to mess with their respective SICs.
SICs: With Friends like These
"God save me from my friends. I can protect myself from my enemies."
~ Claude Louis Hector de Villars
The mission was over - or at least the part which had involved some of them heading out to do the actual mission and then hightailing it back to their current accommodations while staying out of sight was over. Callsign had promptly flitted away to float between two air currents somewhere within comm reach, while Shortfall and Longshot had wandered off together, arguing about the merits of the sensor grid they'd used for the mission. The smaller bot was already planning several upgrades from what she'd overheard on the team channels they'd been using before they'd taken Fallout's suggestion and switched to private to not impose their spirited discussion on everyone else. Which left the team's SIC with all the paperwork (as usual) - not that she minded. It meant she didn't have to deal with the higher-ups and base politics, after all.
The base had been good about providing them quarters, but the temporary facilities weren't optimal as far as anyone in the team was concerned - the general consensus had been summed up by Shortfall rather neatly upon their arrival a few days earlier, the mini-bot snorting in disgust before stalking away. This had left Flagship discussing matters intently with some of their superiors yet again in order to find them a new and more permanent means of transport so they could actually make use of the shiny new headquarters they had yet to even see, due to the nature of their latest batch of missions.
A quiet ping in his general direction received a firm busy reply, and the brief overflow of information (Flagship had the tightest lock on his data net as well, she knew) had given her the impression that someone somewhere wasn't at all happy with her leader's genial requests. A whisper from another node followed Flagship's reply soon afterwards, indicating Deadline was with him and that things were progressing as planned. The underlying satisfaction in the way their surgical engineer had worded his sentence made it clear whoever they were dealing with was on the losing side of the equation, and Fallout returned an amused confirmation, pausing only to do a last discreet team wide locations check before shuttering the gates on her own communication grid. Now that everyone else was squared away, it was time for her to finish the reports and make certain everything was settled in regards to their little outing. Picking up a few data pads from the desk of her very temporary office, Fallout slipped out to tend to some of the more mundane aspects of her duties. As she stepped out, she automatically sidestepped a couple of mechs almost before she realized they were there, causing her to stop short.
"Hey!" The shorter of the two greeted with a surprised but friendly grin. "Good timing, we were just looking for you!" Over his shoulder the second nodded his head in a way that made the clipped formality seem like comfortable action. "I was hoping to get a copy of your after action report and maybe the data you recorded to find out what went wrong. Is Flagship around?"
"Not yet, but he will be soon," she replied, optics dimming briefly as she pinged said mech a brief confirmation request. "He says to meet him in his office, if that's convenient."
There was the briefest of pauses as the green mech did a quick check- most likely to find out how much time he had before his unsupervised team members got bored and decided to cause trouble. He acquiesced simply. "That's no problem."
Fallout handed Springer one of the data pads she'd been holding. "This is the preliminary field report from all assigned personnel though the full data analysis isn't done yet." Somehow she managed not to look too amused at the very fresh memory of the form Longshot's first iteration of the report had taken before she made him redo it. "I still have some of the raw data we collected left to go through. I was hoping to get what you'd gathered as well to piece together a better overview of events," she added, a touch hopeful.
With a wide smirk and knuckles going back to rap against his companion's chestplate, Springer told her, "Why do you think I have Roadbuster around?"
"It's a difficult, straining task," the larger mech deadpanned, pulling out a data pad and holding it out for Fallout, "carrying around such an important pad. It's unfathomable how he'd manage it without me here to handle it."
"I have no doubt," she agreed gravely, accepting the data pad handed to her. The green mech was... irrepressible, Fallout thought, keeping herself from smiling outright in return. And though she would have normally fought to the bitter end to keep her solemn, second-in-command appropriate composure, the others were still safely out of sight, Flagship and Deadline had yet to arrive and Roadbuster had handed her such a straight line as even she could not pass it up. "Do the wild data pads find ways to converge and swarm his desk whenever you're absent, making a hostage of him in his own office too?"
"I'm of the opinion he conveniently 'forgets' that he has an office whenever I'm not around." Roadbuster drawled out. "If it weren't for me, I do believe he'd allow the data pads to accumulate for so long they'd begin developing their own civilization on his desk."
"I am right here, you know." Springer shifted slightly, just enough to glare at his second. "I haven't suddenly lost all audio reception in the last half-klik, either. Besides, that only happened once." Roadbuster turned to look down at the triplechanger. "Or... five times. But YOU try keeping six unruly mech from bringing down an entire command hub in a fit of boredom and see how much time you have left over for filling out reports."
"Only five times," Fallout repeated generously, briefly acknowledging a transmission from Deadline indicating Flagship should arrive at any moment. "That's not so bad, really."
"Not so bad until I say that's how many times I haven't been around to supervise the lot."
Springer scoffed, waving a hand. "Could've been worse."
The femme allowed herself a glance at the target of their teasing, fighting a losing battle when it came to concealing her amusement. "Losing reports would definitely be worse."
"I didn't hear you say that," was the response to that, and Fallout turned to see Flagship standing not too far off, eyeing the leader of the Wreckers with a touch of amusement. Apparently, any moment had meant right that moment.
"Flagship," Springer's tone took on a long-suffering note, "I do believe our seconds are spreading lies and slander about us to our faces, again. We obviously can't take them to nice places."
Somehow, Fallout managed to not say the first thing that ran through her processors at that. Flagship laughed outright at Springer's expression, covering her near slip. "Nonsense. We're behaving perfectly well," she said instead, with all due primness. "We're not blowing anything up, are we?"
"That leaves oh, everyone else currently not standing here," Flagship pointed out, hoping his more trouble-seeking mechs would at least have the decency to wait until Springer was gone to act up. "Deadline and I have managed to do something about our current accommodations, so we're most certainly going to a 'nicer' place than this." While their quarters had been fine for a run of the mill unit, they didn't even begin to cut it for a specialized Intel unit. "I don't know that certain people who bring up Reports We Shall Never Speak Of Again deserve to come along to inspect said new quarters, however," he added with a certain measure of mock-asperity.
"Over-worked and under-appreciated," Fallout commented sotto-voiced. "And I even found those reports, too." She even managed - ever so briefly - to look woeful. And did her best to try and not recall too clearly exactly where those reports had ended up being found, too.
"That's a clause in your contract, you know," Roadbuster replied in an equally low yet intentionally audible tone. "Anyone taking a position as someone's second in command has that written in fine print."
"Didn't they teach you that in your secret 2IC training school? Along with being able to clean up any mess your CO leaves behind and indulge us with witty banter?" Springer flashed Fallout a quick grin before turning back to Flagship. As his own team wasn't set to stay for too long he didn't know the state of the unit's quarters, but the well-being of the personnel- under his command or not -was always something he bothered himself with. "Are the rooms that bad around here, or are you just being overly picky? Again?"
"It's fine for a traditional unit," Flagship shrugged slightly, "but for what we do it's as abysmal as it gets, particularly considering the equipment we work with and the kind of security we need to go along with it." He carefully did not look at Fallout, who was busy studying the data pads she held with much concentration. "We learned the ... hard way that it was better to get secured facilities." With a definite preference for a change of subject, Flagship continued casually. "Is that all the data you needed for the extended report you wanted to work on, Fallout?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact. It'd help if I could ask someone who was on location some questions to cover every angle..." she trailed off, knowing Springer was here to talk to Flagship anyway.
Which was as obvious a hint for Roadbuster short of her bluntly saying so. "So long as we can trust the rest of the team to keep themselves out of trouble," the look he gave Springer was of a very 'I'm not betting on it' variety, "I could be available for that."
The look he received in return, of course, was amused and complying. "So the two of you can swap more horror stories of what your teammates have gotten into this time? Don't get so carried away you miss curfew call," he chided.
Roadbuster looked genuinely puzzled. "I have a curfew call?"
"Yeah. It's the 'someone's reporting on bored Wreckers, we need to bail them out before they get put in the brig again' call."
"Right, that one. How could I have forgotten about that one?"
"Because it's also referred to as indentured servitude by some?" Fallout offered helpfully, drawing an outright bark of laughter from Flagship.
"What is this, a full mutiny?" Still chuckling, Flagship gave her a vaguely stern look. "Report. My desk. ASAP!"
"Yessir!" The response was only half jest. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, and only too aware that she'd relaxed a bit too much even considering the circumstances ('he started it first' wasn't really a valid excuse), she opted a full tactical withdrawal instead.
Noticing his second's reaction and not surprised in the least at the shift in her tone, Flagship waved both of them off. "I'm curious to see what explains the disaster that led to us having to go in as well," he said in a slightly more casual tone, knowing the implication that reasons would indeed be found would help in settling Fallout's unease somewhat. "And so you can't keep complaining about us," the gleam in both 2ICs optics returned as he said this, making Flagship smile faintly in amusement once more, "try to find somewhere nice to go, mm?"
With the both of them summarily dismissed, Fallout turned to give Roadbuster a slightly questioning look, holding up the two data pads containing the data they were to compile and interpret.
"I believe I've just been strongly suggested to take you for a drink as we discuss." Roadbuster commented with a small, hidden smile. He tilted his head slightly, indicating to Fallout to lead the way.
Springer went to stand beside Flagship, watching their seconds moving down the corridor. "You do realize," he said mildly, "leaving the two of them alone together will only encourage them snarking, don't you?"
"Considering how formal she usually insists on being when it's not just the team around, I'm torn as to whether I should worry or approve of that," Flagship admitted, still pleasantly surprised at the femme's behavior. "Particularly at her lack of bringing up protocol at the mere mention of going to get a drink... Though I suppose she has reason to-"
"Wait!" a voice interjected from a doorway nearby. "Going to get a drink? Are you talking about Fallout? Our Fallout?" A handsome red and black mech leaned from the opening, looking stunned and not at all self-conscious about his eavesdropping. "Went out for drinks?" He stared at both officers, as though waiting for a confirmation to every interrogation he'd managed to pose.
"Longshot..." Flagship's warning rumble was thoroughly, utterly ignored.
"Gottagonowbye!" The door whisked obediently shut behind him as the sniper raced back within the confines of the unit's temporary quarters with a hoot of glee.
"Hey guys! Guys! You won't believe this!" The words could be heard growing fainter as the mech raced deeper into the depths of the rooms beyond and Flagship didn't know whether to laugh or groan, until he settled for both.
~*~
Scoop thrummed his fingers against the console top, idle now that their gear (and each other) were almost entirely repaired and left with an abundance of downtime until they were to prep to leave. Nor was he the only Wrecker in this position, most all of them quickly approaching that dangerous point of being bored.
Which made the incoming call either fortunately or terribly timed.
The payloader accepted the transmission, "Scoop here."
"Scoop," came the voice of his commander, "lemme talk to Whirl."
"Sorry, Chief. Topspin's finishing up on repairs to him, he's incommunicado right now."
"Great. What about Twin Twist?"
"He's around... uh, somewhere."
"Hmm." Springer didn't sound too thrilled. "Whichever one you see first, tell them to keep an optic on Roadbuster, would you?"
That got the rest of the team's attention, turning to look at the console as if they could guess what Springer was thinking through it. "I thought Roadbuster was with you," Scoop said.
"He was, but he went to get a drink with someone-"
"Wait wait wait," Sandstorm suddenly interjected. "Are you saying Roadbuster is voluntarily socializing? With a non-Wrecker? WITHOUT you?"
The ensuing pause did a fair rendition of Springer mentally facepalming himself. "...you have me on speaker."
"So," Scoop tried- and failed -to sound casual, "where is RB? I mean- since we need to look out for him and all."
"Scoop, listen- it's not-"
"They're getting a drink," Sandstorm rode all over Springer's protest, "there's only so many places they can go."
"Hey, I'm telling you-"
"The base isn't all that big." Broadside suddenly added in. "Asides from the officer's lounge, there's only a mess hall and a canteen."
"Guys-"
"We should look for them. Springer's orders, after all."
"Guys-"
"We can pick up Spin and Whirl on the way out and I'm sure Twist is lurking around close by."
"Guys-"
"Alright, let's do this!"
"..........guys?"
A long moment passed before Springer turned to Flagship, feeling a little foolish at how utterly not-like-he-planned that had turned out. "Um," he said, "instead of getting a buffer, I think I just made things worse."
Flagship briefly considered appealing to Shortfall's better nature in order to set the mini-bot as a moderating force once things came to a head, then promptly dismissed the thought as a lost cause. He'd been one of the first to start hounding Fallout to get more of a social life since he'd found out how isolated the Ghosts tended to be. The mini-bot was probably out there leading the charge of Ghosts out to discover what their second in command was up to.
"Well... the two of them can manage things, I'm sure. And it may actually keep both our units out of trouble. Hopefully they won't think we did this on purpose," he added as an afterthought, before gesturing towards the entrance of the no doubt entirely abandoned area beyond. "We might as well get some work done in the meantime..."
~*~
Both data pads had been up and running since they'd turned the corner that took them out of their respective commanding officers' sights, information being compiled at a quick rate by the both of them. The walk to the mess hall had been mostly composed of rapid-fire questions and answers as Fallout and Roadbuster traded information, building up a more thorough view of the last mission on either side than data alone could provide.
"So, one of the other units pulled out before the deadline established at the start," which was pretty much the norm in any armed encounter, inasmuch as no plan ever withstood battle perfectly - something which the both of them knew, "which would have been something you could have compensated for if it hadn't been for the fact that the Decepticons then brought in units unaccounted for in the Intel you had and steamrolled your remaining support units..." It was an understatement, to say the least. Eradicated would have been a better term to use, she supposed, wincing slightly as exactly what had occurred now stood out in sharp, stark details.
At her side, Roadbuster nodded, no anger or tension in his expression. Things went wrong all the time, after all, and none of his crew had been seriously injured. In a situation like this, he was perfectly happy with letting Springer bring up the finer, messed up details with the detachment head. "We were given comms for the three units on the mainline, we weren't given them for the support," which was a critical oversight on the Wreckers' part as much as the detachment's, "so we didn't know they were being overrun until the Decepticons were almost on top of us. Fighting was danger close leaving us without Xantium as back-up and it didn't take much for us to be encircled." Roadbuster looked at the numbers of the casualties and his optic band faded. Too many were lost and his team could've been among them. "We sincerely appreciate your help."
"It was just good that we were able to get there on time and assist," was the answer, Fallout still scanning through the data before her though she'd heard Roadbuster's words clearly. While there was no way she could see the particular information he was looking at due to his height alone, the tension about him when she looked up made it easy to figure out. "We were within range and available." It had been in large part due to luck that they'd even been close enough to arrive in time, a mission having taken them within range earlier. Furthermore, the mission had left them in a position where all were actually fit and ready to take on the type of data gathering and sharing which had been exactly what the Wreckers had needed. "Besides - that's what our mandate is, just as yours is to be down there in the middle of things."
Hearing the answer the Wreckers tended to give in a similar situation being quoted back at him made Roadbuster smile under his battlemask. Quoting back what most Autobots said to them in response just made him grin all the more, "Doesn't stop us from being grateful about it."
He looked down at Fallout and though she wasn't nearly as fragile looking in comparison to other femmes, she was still so tiny in comparison to Roadbuster. "It's also very encouraging being able to see your team in action. So to speak."
They'd been officially (inasmuch as anything was official about the Ghosts) active for a relatively short amount of time, when one considered the scope of the war, but this sort of mission was one they'd done fairly often and Fallout didn't bother hiding her pride in the team's ability to coordinate with such efficiency. Not that anything else would have been acceptable to any of them, of course. That most of those missions (and any other) they did were usually sight unseen made the praise all the more worthwhile. "Thank you. I'll pass that along to the others," she smiled at him, entirely willing to unbend for a moment when it came to the others' work being recognized.
He gave a warm rumbling 'of course', the two lapsing again into an easy silence as they traversed the hall. After the initial formation and creation of training, the Ghost Unit had been basically taken out of Springer's influence (and therefore Roadbuster's observation) though it didn't stop the two Wreckers from touching base with the other group when they could. "How are your others coming along, anyway? Still as incorrigible as ever?"
"Would it be us if they were any other way?" she asked lightly, closing her data pad they turned a corner. "Though after some of their exploits had Flagship considering throwing them in chains, I made a point of pulling out some of the files on the more colorful activities some of yours have been involved in and left them on his desk for him to find." She looked remarkably cheerful as he continued. "He actually told Jazz we weren't so bad after all, once he'd read through what your lot can get up to."
Roadbuster shook his head, laughter vibrating lowly through him. "It's a good thing he can't look at what we've decided to keep 'off the record' otherwise he'd probably have second thoughts on the wisdom of associating with us."
"I'm not telling him you said that. Anyway - to actually answer your first question, they're doing extremely well and they all bring something important to the mix." She shrugged a bit, knowing it was one of the reasons each had been chosen but still feeling a need to say it. Every single one of them worked to the utmost to keep improving their abilities and to contribute to the team, though the feeling of 'newness' which had lingered about them once their formal training had been done had started to fade away slowly. "And Shortfall has been fitting in nicely despite being late to join us, as it were."
"It's always difficult for someone new to join a pre-established group as most of our current rank can attest." As they approached the lift to take them to another level, Roadbuster asked, "Do you prefer the officer scene, or a chance to slum it with the grunts?"
"Officer's lounge is usually quieter," was the automatic response followed almost seamlessly by, "though either is fine by me." Fallout had the grace to look a touch apologetic about the clear preference indicated by her answer. Being around too many unknown bots without the team to watch her back made her tense these days, mostly. "I've just gotten used to being in the habit of keeping a low profile ," she elaborated as they stepped into the lift, "unlike some in Intel who are a bit more... extravagant, socially wise." She definitely, absolutely wasn't going to give any names there.
"I've gotten used to 'slumming it', as they say." The two stood back as the lift doors opened and a small group of Autobots stepped out. They nodded in quick acknowledgment but otherwise didn't give the two of them another look. "Tends to be more relaxed and you do get to pick up a wider range of information there. Besides, most of my team are hardly fans of officers." Even Springer rarely set foot in an exclusively officer area unless it pertained to his duty.
The two stepped inside the lift, doors closing shut and Fallout shifted, turning her back towards one of the side panels automatically. "Also, we seem to have acquired some company."
"I noticed," came the calm reply. "I'm assuming they're yours as I didn't hear any obnoxious chatter and snickering." There was a beat and then, "Also, they've evaded my proximity alert so I know they're not mine."
"Longshot and Salvo," she paused briefly, then continued, "and I'm betting Shortfall is in the vents somewhere though he's not in my standard range." And she wasn't about to use anything stronger only to trigger any of the security bots on the base into declaring an infiltration alert of any kind. "...and Callsign is in flight. How in Primus's name did they get Callsign to come out like that?" she boggled at the thought, utterly mystified. Then narrowed it down to the important point of the matter. "And why are they tailing us in the first place anyway?"
"In all likelihood? They found out you're getting a drink with someone and want to know who you're with." The lift stopped a level before the one they were heading for to let on another two Autobots. Roadbuster put a hand to Fallout's shoulder, steering her towards the door. "Come on, we'll hit up the dispenser in the canteen instead and head for the mezzanine." Green optic band curled and flashing in rare mischief, Roadbuster told her, "Let's make them work for their information, shall we?"
"That sounds like a fine idea," was the firm reply, Fallout somehow managing not to stalk right back to her teammates in order to throttle the lot of them. With the addition of another item to her list of things to do for the day (Note to self: Kill them all. Again.) she allowed herself to be steered in the direction Roadbuster pointed them both towards. "One day, Short's going to end up caught in some base's vents during a maintenance cycle and..." she trailed off, a contemplative expression on her faceplates which soon shifted into a half-smile. "It would be horribly mean of me to ensure that might happen sooner rather than later, wouldn't it?"
~*~
#They got off a floor early. Slaggitall, those shafts are tight when switching levels and I have to go back one level down now.#
#Stop complaining and move it, I don't want to miss this!#
#HEY! Look! He put his hand on her!#
#You need to get out more, Salvo.#
#...Longshot, buddy... did you just tell Salvo of all mechs to get out more?#
#Can I beat him up now? Strange mech! Hand on our second-in-command! Hello?! #
#NO!#
#Ow. You didn't have to all yell at once...#
#You're all insane... they're just talking.#
#Oh wow. Callsign just said something while we're at a strange base.#
#Great. Way to go Salvo. Now he won't anymore.#
#Shut up. All of you! ...go on ahead without me, I'll catch up.#
#Heh heh heh. You stuck, Shortfall?#
#I hate you, Longshot. I hate you lots.#
~*~
They appeared to have lost one which, while less than they would have liked, was encouraging to see the Ghosts wouldn't be fooled by such a simple misdirection. On the other hand, as they approached the mezzanine adjacent to the canteen they appeared to have picked up a couple more tailers.
"There they are." Roadbuster said lowly, tone conveying flat acceptance more than annoyance. For now. "Knew they'd show up sometime."
Unlike the members of the Ghost Unit who specialized in covert operations, the Wreckers were generally too large and bulky to do any decent sneaking about, especially without looking suspicious while in the rear. As such, their idea of being covert was to look as if they were in the same area by mere coincidence, splitting into teams to cover and observe all vectors. To all appearances it seemed like Broadside and Scoop were in deep conversation over some kind of schematic. Roadbuster, of course, knew better. The only thing he wasn't certain of was how much of this he had to blame on Springer and how much of this was their idea of alleviating boredom.
"Oh no, we're surrounded?" Fallout couldn't help but laugh quietly, amused by the situation now that both teams were part of the action. "I'm just tempted to blame this situation on our illustrious and fearless leaders, I have to admit." They were walking past the bay windows lining the hallway leading to the mezzanine, dodging a group of mechs chatting and enjoying the view while on break, when it occurred to her that cheating was not only acceptable but to be forcefully encourage in this situation. "Hrm, give me a moment? I think this little game might get very interesting if I can just pull this off..."
One sensor panel whirring slightly as she engaged systems usually only used during missions, Fallout encoded the signals so that the team in the immediate vicinity were excluded save the one mech she was trying to reach and sent out a clear, solid ping. She was rewarded by a portion of the sky outside suddenly flipping about in dismay - Callsign, jarred out of his usual motionless hover by the sudden ping sent his way.
#Er, yes Fallout? I mean, um, well... do you - er, anything I can do? Ahehehe..."
#I can see you.#
#...you're going to kill me, aren't you? I'm going to die a horrible death?# Callsign's terror would have been easier to believe had it not been for the ghoulish delight in his tone. #I told them this was a bad idea, but nooo...#
#Well... I won't kill you if you switch sides and swear eternal allegiance to me, my pretty little fount of knowledge!#
#...Oh! So, if I just let you know where the others are, you'll spare me and only slay everyone else? Terrifying and gruesome deaths for all but me?#
#Depends on the quality of the data, mmm?#
#I kept telling them they were being silly but they didn't listen. ...say, if it's really good data, do I get to suggest ways to ensure their horrible demise?#
#I think I could be talked into that. You may live and assist me in smiting down the enemy! And training sim data is just fine. I like training sim data. It makes me happy.#
#Yay! Shortfall's still stuck in the ventilation system between your floor and the next one, by the way. I can patch you through on what he has to say about it if you'd like? And... firing up all sensors, now!#
"And that's one subverted to our side," Fallout murmured with satisfaction. "Data incoming and... we are live." Resorting to a similar tight-link she'd used when sending the Wreckers data on the battle field, but keeping it narrowed down to Roadbuster, she started sharing the information and coordinates Callsign was sending her way.
"Shall we add your bots' ID signals to the mix?" The opportunity to turn the tables on those trailing them and add some training to the mix for all involved was doing remarkable things for her mood.
Roadbuster smirked, swirling his unopened container of energon contemplatively. "They did bring it upon themselves," he gave a little laugh. "We're absolutely validated in having a little fun with them.
~*~
:So? Who's he with?:
:He's... with a femme.:
A pause resounded over their comm.
:A femme?:
:Seriously?:
:Do you guys want a capture for proof?:
The image transmitted to the rest of the Wreckers, each scrutinizing it carefully.
:Any idea who she is?:
:Without getting a data ping from her, no.:
:Meh, not entirely impressive, is she?:
:This is RB we're talking about. He doesn't go for ostentatious. He actually has standards.:
:...was that a crack at me and Sandstorm?:
:Hey- I have standards!:
:Right, Sandy. Your standards are just so low you constantly pass right by them without noticing.:
:I do not!:
:Whoa- hey! Hold off on the chatter guys, they're moving out!:
:Moving? Where to?:
:They're headed to the eastern exit of the mezzanine. Twist, Spin, you two are the closest. Me and Side will move from our position as soon as we're cleared.:
:Roger that.:
~*~
The mezzanine exit was cleared without either of them bursting out in laughter at the antics of the more visible mechs following them, even as an audio of Shortfall's cursing and swearing was gleefully relayed to them by Callsign, along with whatever amusing bit of visuals he could grab from his eye-in-the-sky positioning.
"You know, it occurs to me that you're being a bad, bad influence." Fallout informed the large mech with careful solemnity.
"Lies. I am the paragon of professionalism and morality." He quipped back. The bottom half of his battlemask slid back as he sipped lightly at his energon, smile playing along the edges of his lips.
Fallout smiled back. "You know, if we manage to get them busy following one or the both of us at variable intervals-"
"We could probably get them all in one place?"
"And then add Shortfall to the mix. I could ping the base's ventilation maintenance into action. I bet he'd make a spectacular landing with all the pressure build up, particularly if I find a main distribution hub to redirect up..." She couldn't use her visor to get to any of the floor or duct plans, obviously - it would be a dead giveaway to snap it down for such a thing. But she could easily access the data anyway via remote so long as someone made sure to keep her from walking into things. "Make sure I don't walk in anything, would you? Going to access the vent schematics from the central archives and add it to what we already have and see what we can work with... I should probably tap into the maintenance systems too..."
Roadbuster dutifully put a hand to Fallout's elbow, the breadth of it neatly covering most of her arm. With Callsign's data being filtered to him, the Wrecker could see his team switching positions, two of them moving to intercept at an upcoming, heavily trafficked area. Deciding runaround was decidedly fairplay, he pulled Fallout closer to his side and led her down a smaller hallway, curious to see how long it would take his team to realize they overshot their targets. Or if they'd inadvertently stumble on the tailing Ghosts...
Once the architectural plans were retrieved from the base's central archives, overlaying that over the plans they already had combined to the location of both teams was disarmingly easy. Since Roadbuster had navigated them out of sight once she pulled out of the data feed, Fallout quickly snapped down her visor and meshed everything together, quickly narrowing the ventilation system's potential critical mass locations to two - one of which was on the other side of the base and therefore unsuitable, and one two floors away. She threw it back to Callsign who quite gleefully integrated the static overlay of data to his own feed, sending it back to the both of them with a pleased hum.
"I think we have a goal to aim for," she grinned, visor sliding back up just in case they should fall back in sight of either of their teams. "Any preferences as to how we get them there?
"Your team is already tailing us, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem leading them in that direction. Mine, though..." He thought for a moment, pace kept long and slow enough for Fallout to keep up with little problem. "If we keep dodging their stake outs, they'll have to start moving after us actively instead of passively waiting for us to come to them. Which, since we've already lost one, they'll regroup to do a more direct tailing." Roadbuster smirked to himself, wishing he could actually see the looks on his teammates' faceplates when they realized he'd avoided them.
~*~
:Spin, I'd hate to say this-:
:Then don't.:
:I think we lost them.:
:Didn't I tell you NOT to say that?:
:Face it, they took one of these smaller turnoffs before they were in range of our proximity alerts:
:Right. One of these tiny halls that can barely just hold a mech RB's size.:
:They had to have. It's the only explanation, though WHY is still up for grabs...:
:To have his sordid way with her, of course.:
Twin Twist rocked to an abrupt halt, staring at his fellow jumpstarter in something akin to horror. "Don't tell me that!"
"Whaaaat?" Topspin drawled off their comm. "You wanted an explanation and it's not like he doesn't get the urge every now and again."
The look he got was flat and unamused. "Spin, please. You know what Roadbuster's like, that wouldn't happen." :Besides,: he continued back on their comm again as well as their pace down the hall, :he could break her with one hand.:
:I'm sure there's femmes out there that like it rough.:
:Y'know what? I'm gonna ignore you in favor of alerting the others we lost them. We'll regroup at their previous known location and figure out what to do from there.:
~*~
#Um...guys?#
#Shut up, Shortfall. Busy here.#
#She went that way. This not using sensors to not warn her deal is making this harder than it ought to be!#
#You think a mech as big as the one with her would be easier to follow...#
#Er... guys?#
#Yeah, the mech with a hand on her!#
#Salvo...#
#I think they split up.#
#No, really. GUYS!?#
#Hey... why hasn't Callsign said anything in a while?#
#...oh no he didn't...#
#So... them splitting up? It's a bad thing. It means that the little... hey, who are these mec-#
#Fine, no advance warning for you. You can all drown for all I care! INCOMING!#
~*~
The sound of water gushing just barely didn't overwhelm the soggy cries of 'WARGH!' from down the hall. Roadbuster gave a little hum, "Right on time," before draining the last of his energon and tossing the container down a nearby waste receptacle. He pushed off the wall and canted his head towards Fallout. "Shall we see the outcome of our hard work?"
The signatures of her own lot were moving out and fast, Shortfall's in particular apparently moving in sudden bursts of ill-directed speed - skids on still cleanser-covered pedes, she suspected with amusement.
"Might be best if I went to find my own instead of lingering," she was trying so very hard not to laugh too much. "They've already made a run for it and as tempting as it is to go mock your bots, I think I'll hold off a little bit longer on making anything formal." She grinned up at him. "Besides, I want to detour by the security center now to get copies of all this before one of them thinks to erase all incriminating evidence... think you can keep them busy while I do that?" Her smile grew wider. "I'll get you your own copies, of course."
He lifted a hand in a half wave, "Will do." He watched Fallout slip down the corridor before turning towards the spluttering and indignant curses, battlemask slipping back over his face. After a ten beat count, Roadbuster strode towards his flailing team, turned the corner and stopped just short of the waterline. He opened up an audio/visual link to Fallout- she certainly did deserve to see her work in real time. Cleaning solution still trickled down the exploded vent- the vent covering itself dented beyond repair and currently embedded over Scoop's helmet. A sadistic smile ALMOST pulled at Roadbuster's expression, but he ironed it out as his team froze their tangle of limbs and stared up at him.
"Roadbuster..." The name was strained and quiet, no one knowing what to say to him.
"What," he said in that low, no-nonsense way that said he was about to get seriously annoyed in half a nano-klik, "is going on here?"
"Look- it's not what you think-"
"Isn't it? Because right now I think the six of you have caused property damage to a base that we were not, in fact, authorized to destroy. Am I wrong?"
"But it wasn't us!"
"So an air vent- AIR VENT, mind, not built to hold any sort of liquids -conveniently decided to exploded while you were right under it, is that it?"
"It wasn't us! There- there was this mini-bot-"
"What did I tell you last time about stuffing mini-bots in places they are not meant to be stuffed in?"
Arms flailed at him. "We're telling the truth, RB! We didn't do anything! This mini-bot came flying out the vent with all this water and then he ran off!"
"After stepping on my fraggin' face."
"That's his tracks right there!"
Roadbuster made a show of stepping through the solution and studying Shortfall's tracks as well as the others made by his fellow Ghosts. He turned back to the Wreckers, finally all on their feet. "You will find," he told them with no room for disobedience, "cleaning supplies and you will mop this mess up."
"But-"
"You will do this. Now. Before anyone else finds out about this and files a complaint to Springer that he is incapable of keeping his mechs in line for even five cycles. Whoever this mysterious vent-crawler of yours is, I'll deal with it. Is that understood?"
"Yessir."
"Good." Roadbuster pulled back, arms folded across his chestplate as he regarded his Wreckers. "And stop following me."
He was treated with six flabbergasted expressions before he turned away, no longer able to keep the grin from his faceplates. He transmitted to Fallout, :I love my job.:
Laughter was the only reply she was able to give him in return.
Title: SICs: With Friends like These (#39), co-written with ajremix
Setting: IDW Transformers, inspired by the "What's Wrong with a Little Destruction" 'verse by .
Note: Many thanks to rexlapinii for beta-ing!
Summary: In which both Wreckers and Ghosts are reminded why it's never good to mess with their respective SICs.
SICs: With Friends like These
"God save me from my friends. I can protect myself from my enemies."
~ Claude Louis Hector de Villars
The mission was over - or at least the part which had involved some of them heading out to do the actual mission and then hightailing it back to their current accommodations while staying out of sight was over. Callsign had promptly flitted away to float between two air currents somewhere within comm reach, while Shortfall and Longshot had wandered off together, arguing about the merits of the sensor grid they'd used for the mission. The smaller bot was already planning several upgrades from what she'd overheard on the team channels they'd been using before they'd taken Fallout's suggestion and switched to private to not impose their spirited discussion on everyone else. Which left the team's SIC with all the paperwork (as usual) - not that she minded. It meant she didn't have to deal with the higher-ups and base politics, after all.
The base had been good about providing them quarters, but the temporary facilities weren't optimal as far as anyone in the team was concerned - the general consensus had been summed up by Shortfall rather neatly upon their arrival a few days earlier, the mini-bot snorting in disgust before stalking away. This had left Flagship discussing matters intently with some of their superiors yet again in order to find them a new and more permanent means of transport so they could actually make use of the shiny new headquarters they had yet to even see, due to the nature of their latest batch of missions.
A quiet ping in his general direction received a firm busy reply, and the brief overflow of information (Flagship had the tightest lock on his data net as well, she knew) had given her the impression that someone somewhere wasn't at all happy with her leader's genial requests. A whisper from another node followed Flagship's reply soon afterwards, indicating Deadline was with him and that things were progressing as planned. The underlying satisfaction in the way their surgical engineer had worded his sentence made it clear whoever they were dealing with was on the losing side of the equation, and Fallout returned an amused confirmation, pausing only to do a last discreet team wide locations check before shuttering the gates on her own communication grid. Now that everyone else was squared away, it was time for her to finish the reports and make certain everything was settled in regards to their little outing. Picking up a few data pads from the desk of her very temporary office, Fallout slipped out to tend to some of the more mundane aspects of her duties. As she stepped out, she automatically sidestepped a couple of mechs almost before she realized they were there, causing her to stop short.
"Hey!" The shorter of the two greeted with a surprised but friendly grin. "Good timing, we were just looking for you!" Over his shoulder the second nodded his head in a way that made the clipped formality seem like comfortable action. "I was hoping to get a copy of your after action report and maybe the data you recorded to find out what went wrong. Is Flagship around?"
"Not yet, but he will be soon," she replied, optics dimming briefly as she pinged said mech a brief confirmation request. "He says to meet him in his office, if that's convenient."
There was the briefest of pauses as the green mech did a quick check- most likely to find out how much time he had before his unsupervised team members got bored and decided to cause trouble. He acquiesced simply. "That's no problem."
Fallout handed Springer one of the data pads she'd been holding. "This is the preliminary field report from all assigned personnel though the full data analysis isn't done yet." Somehow she managed not to look too amused at the very fresh memory of the form Longshot's first iteration of the report had taken before she made him redo it. "I still have some of the raw data we collected left to go through. I was hoping to get what you'd gathered as well to piece together a better overview of events," she added, a touch hopeful.
With a wide smirk and knuckles going back to rap against his companion's chestplate, Springer told her, "Why do you think I have Roadbuster around?"
"It's a difficult, straining task," the larger mech deadpanned, pulling out a data pad and holding it out for Fallout, "carrying around such an important pad. It's unfathomable how he'd manage it without me here to handle it."
"I have no doubt," she agreed gravely, accepting the data pad handed to her. The green mech was... irrepressible, Fallout thought, keeping herself from smiling outright in return. And though she would have normally fought to the bitter end to keep her solemn, second-in-command appropriate composure, the others were still safely out of sight, Flagship and Deadline had yet to arrive and Roadbuster had handed her such a straight line as even she could not pass it up. "Do the wild data pads find ways to converge and swarm his desk whenever you're absent, making a hostage of him in his own office too?"
"I'm of the opinion he conveniently 'forgets' that he has an office whenever I'm not around." Roadbuster drawled out. "If it weren't for me, I do believe he'd allow the data pads to accumulate for so long they'd begin developing their own civilization on his desk."
"I am right here, you know." Springer shifted slightly, just enough to glare at his second. "I haven't suddenly lost all audio reception in the last half-klik, either. Besides, that only happened once." Roadbuster turned to look down at the triplechanger. "Or... five times. But YOU try keeping six unruly mech from bringing down an entire command hub in a fit of boredom and see how much time you have left over for filling out reports."
"Only five times," Fallout repeated generously, briefly acknowledging a transmission from Deadline indicating Flagship should arrive at any moment. "That's not so bad, really."
"Not so bad until I say that's how many times I haven't been around to supervise the lot."
Springer scoffed, waving a hand. "Could've been worse."
The femme allowed herself a glance at the target of their teasing, fighting a losing battle when it came to concealing her amusement. "Losing reports would definitely be worse."
"I didn't hear you say that," was the response to that, and Fallout turned to see Flagship standing not too far off, eyeing the leader of the Wreckers with a touch of amusement. Apparently, any moment had meant right that moment.
"Flagship," Springer's tone took on a long-suffering note, "I do believe our seconds are spreading lies and slander about us to our faces, again. We obviously can't take them to nice places."
Somehow, Fallout managed to not say the first thing that ran through her processors at that. Flagship laughed outright at Springer's expression, covering her near slip. "Nonsense. We're behaving perfectly well," she said instead, with all due primness. "We're not blowing anything up, are we?"
"That leaves oh, everyone else currently not standing here," Flagship pointed out, hoping his more trouble-seeking mechs would at least have the decency to wait until Springer was gone to act up. "Deadline and I have managed to do something about our current accommodations, so we're most certainly going to a 'nicer' place than this." While their quarters had been fine for a run of the mill unit, they didn't even begin to cut it for a specialized Intel unit. "I don't know that certain people who bring up Reports We Shall Never Speak Of Again deserve to come along to inspect said new quarters, however," he added with a certain measure of mock-asperity.
"Over-worked and under-appreciated," Fallout commented sotto-voiced. "And I even found those reports, too." She even managed - ever so briefly - to look woeful. And did her best to try and not recall too clearly exactly where those reports had ended up being found, too.
"That's a clause in your contract, you know," Roadbuster replied in an equally low yet intentionally audible tone. "Anyone taking a position as someone's second in command has that written in fine print."
"Didn't they teach you that in your secret 2IC training school? Along with being able to clean up any mess your CO leaves behind and indulge us with witty banter?" Springer flashed Fallout a quick grin before turning back to Flagship. As his own team wasn't set to stay for too long he didn't know the state of the unit's quarters, but the well-being of the personnel- under his command or not -was always something he bothered himself with. "Are the rooms that bad around here, or are you just being overly picky? Again?"
"It's fine for a traditional unit," Flagship shrugged slightly, "but for what we do it's as abysmal as it gets, particularly considering the equipment we work with and the kind of security we need to go along with it." He carefully did not look at Fallout, who was busy studying the data pads she held with much concentration. "We learned the ... hard way that it was better to get secured facilities." With a definite preference for a change of subject, Flagship continued casually. "Is that all the data you needed for the extended report you wanted to work on, Fallout?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact. It'd help if I could ask someone who was on location some questions to cover every angle..." she trailed off, knowing Springer was here to talk to Flagship anyway.
Which was as obvious a hint for Roadbuster short of her bluntly saying so. "So long as we can trust the rest of the team to keep themselves out of trouble," the look he gave Springer was of a very 'I'm not betting on it' variety, "I could be available for that."
The look he received in return, of course, was amused and complying. "So the two of you can swap more horror stories of what your teammates have gotten into this time? Don't get so carried away you miss curfew call," he chided.
Roadbuster looked genuinely puzzled. "I have a curfew call?"
"Yeah. It's the 'someone's reporting on bored Wreckers, we need to bail them out before they get put in the brig again' call."
"Right, that one. How could I have forgotten about that one?"
"Because it's also referred to as indentured servitude by some?" Fallout offered helpfully, drawing an outright bark of laughter from Flagship.
"What is this, a full mutiny?" Still chuckling, Flagship gave her a vaguely stern look. "Report. My desk. ASAP!"
"Yessir!" The response was only half jest. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, and only too aware that she'd relaxed a bit too much even considering the circumstances ('he started it first' wasn't really a valid excuse), she opted a full tactical withdrawal instead.
Noticing his second's reaction and not surprised in the least at the shift in her tone, Flagship waved both of them off. "I'm curious to see what explains the disaster that led to us having to go in as well," he said in a slightly more casual tone, knowing the implication that reasons would indeed be found would help in settling Fallout's unease somewhat. "And so you can't keep complaining about us," the gleam in both 2ICs optics returned as he said this, making Flagship smile faintly in amusement once more, "try to find somewhere nice to go, mm?"
With the both of them summarily dismissed, Fallout turned to give Roadbuster a slightly questioning look, holding up the two data pads containing the data they were to compile and interpret.
"I believe I've just been strongly suggested to take you for a drink as we discuss." Roadbuster commented with a small, hidden smile. He tilted his head slightly, indicating to Fallout to lead the way.
Springer went to stand beside Flagship, watching their seconds moving down the corridor. "You do realize," he said mildly, "leaving the two of them alone together will only encourage them snarking, don't you?"
"Considering how formal she usually insists on being when it's not just the team around, I'm torn as to whether I should worry or approve of that," Flagship admitted, still pleasantly surprised at the femme's behavior. "Particularly at her lack of bringing up protocol at the mere mention of going to get a drink... Though I suppose she has reason to-"
"Wait!" a voice interjected from a doorway nearby. "Going to get a drink? Are you talking about Fallout? Our Fallout?" A handsome red and black mech leaned from the opening, looking stunned and not at all self-conscious about his eavesdropping. "Went out for drinks?" He stared at both officers, as though waiting for a confirmation to every interrogation he'd managed to pose.
"Longshot..." Flagship's warning rumble was thoroughly, utterly ignored.
"Gottagonowbye!" The door whisked obediently shut behind him as the sniper raced back within the confines of the unit's temporary quarters with a hoot of glee.
"Hey guys! Guys! You won't believe this!" The words could be heard growing fainter as the mech raced deeper into the depths of the rooms beyond and Flagship didn't know whether to laugh or groan, until he settled for both.
~*~
Scoop thrummed his fingers against the console top, idle now that their gear (and each other) were almost entirely repaired and left with an abundance of downtime until they were to prep to leave. Nor was he the only Wrecker in this position, most all of them quickly approaching that dangerous point of being bored.
Which made the incoming call either fortunately or terribly timed.
The payloader accepted the transmission, "Scoop here."
"Scoop," came the voice of his commander, "lemme talk to Whirl."
"Sorry, Chief. Topspin's finishing up on repairs to him, he's incommunicado right now."
"Great. What about Twin Twist?"
"He's around... uh, somewhere."
"Hmm." Springer didn't sound too thrilled. "Whichever one you see first, tell them to keep an optic on Roadbuster, would you?"
That got the rest of the team's attention, turning to look at the console as if they could guess what Springer was thinking through it. "I thought Roadbuster was with you," Scoop said.
"He was, but he went to get a drink with someone-"
"Wait wait wait," Sandstorm suddenly interjected. "Are you saying Roadbuster is voluntarily socializing? With a non-Wrecker? WITHOUT you?"
The ensuing pause did a fair rendition of Springer mentally facepalming himself. "...you have me on speaker."
"So," Scoop tried- and failed -to sound casual, "where is RB? I mean- since we need to look out for him and all."
"Scoop, listen- it's not-"
"They're getting a drink," Sandstorm rode all over Springer's protest, "there's only so many places they can go."
"Hey, I'm telling you-"
"The base isn't all that big." Broadside suddenly added in. "Asides from the officer's lounge, there's only a mess hall and a canteen."
"Guys-"
"We should look for them. Springer's orders, after all."
"Guys-"
"We can pick up Spin and Whirl on the way out and I'm sure Twist is lurking around close by."
"Guys-"
"Alright, let's do this!"
"..........guys?"
A long moment passed before Springer turned to Flagship, feeling a little foolish at how utterly not-like-he-planned that had turned out. "Um," he said, "instead of getting a buffer, I think I just made things worse."
Flagship briefly considered appealing to Shortfall's better nature in order to set the mini-bot as a moderating force once things came to a head, then promptly dismissed the thought as a lost cause. He'd been one of the first to start hounding Fallout to get more of a social life since he'd found out how isolated the Ghosts tended to be. The mini-bot was probably out there leading the charge of Ghosts out to discover what their second in command was up to.
"Well... the two of them can manage things, I'm sure. And it may actually keep both our units out of trouble. Hopefully they won't think we did this on purpose," he added as an afterthought, before gesturing towards the entrance of the no doubt entirely abandoned area beyond. "We might as well get some work done in the meantime..."
~*~
Both data pads had been up and running since they'd turned the corner that took them out of their respective commanding officers' sights, information being compiled at a quick rate by the both of them. The walk to the mess hall had been mostly composed of rapid-fire questions and answers as Fallout and Roadbuster traded information, building up a more thorough view of the last mission on either side than data alone could provide.
"So, one of the other units pulled out before the deadline established at the start," which was pretty much the norm in any armed encounter, inasmuch as no plan ever withstood battle perfectly - something which the both of them knew, "which would have been something you could have compensated for if it hadn't been for the fact that the Decepticons then brought in units unaccounted for in the Intel you had and steamrolled your remaining support units..." It was an understatement, to say the least. Eradicated would have been a better term to use, she supposed, wincing slightly as exactly what had occurred now stood out in sharp, stark details.
At her side, Roadbuster nodded, no anger or tension in his expression. Things went wrong all the time, after all, and none of his crew had been seriously injured. In a situation like this, he was perfectly happy with letting Springer bring up the finer, messed up details with the detachment head. "We were given comms for the three units on the mainline, we weren't given them for the support," which was a critical oversight on the Wreckers' part as much as the detachment's, "so we didn't know they were being overrun until the Decepticons were almost on top of us. Fighting was danger close leaving us without Xantium as back-up and it didn't take much for us to be encircled." Roadbuster looked at the numbers of the casualties and his optic band faded. Too many were lost and his team could've been among them. "We sincerely appreciate your help."
"It was just good that we were able to get there on time and assist," was the answer, Fallout still scanning through the data before her though she'd heard Roadbuster's words clearly. While there was no way she could see the particular information he was looking at due to his height alone, the tension about him when she looked up made it easy to figure out. "We were within range and available." It had been in large part due to luck that they'd even been close enough to arrive in time, a mission having taken them within range earlier. Furthermore, the mission had left them in a position where all were actually fit and ready to take on the type of data gathering and sharing which had been exactly what the Wreckers had needed. "Besides - that's what our mandate is, just as yours is to be down there in the middle of things."
Hearing the answer the Wreckers tended to give in a similar situation being quoted back at him made Roadbuster smile under his battlemask. Quoting back what most Autobots said to them in response just made him grin all the more, "Doesn't stop us from being grateful about it."
He looked down at Fallout and though she wasn't nearly as fragile looking in comparison to other femmes, she was still so tiny in comparison to Roadbuster. "It's also very encouraging being able to see your team in action. So to speak."
They'd been officially (inasmuch as anything was official about the Ghosts) active for a relatively short amount of time, when one considered the scope of the war, but this sort of mission was one they'd done fairly often and Fallout didn't bother hiding her pride in the team's ability to coordinate with such efficiency. Not that anything else would have been acceptable to any of them, of course. That most of those missions (and any other) they did were usually sight unseen made the praise all the more worthwhile. "Thank you. I'll pass that along to the others," she smiled at him, entirely willing to unbend for a moment when it came to the others' work being recognized.
He gave a warm rumbling 'of course', the two lapsing again into an easy silence as they traversed the hall. After the initial formation and creation of training, the Ghost Unit had been basically taken out of Springer's influence (and therefore Roadbuster's observation) though it didn't stop the two Wreckers from touching base with the other group when they could. "How are your others coming along, anyway? Still as incorrigible as ever?"
"Would it be us if they were any other way?" she asked lightly, closing her data pad they turned a corner. "Though after some of their exploits had Flagship considering throwing them in chains, I made a point of pulling out some of the files on the more colorful activities some of yours have been involved in and left them on his desk for him to find." She looked remarkably cheerful as he continued. "He actually told Jazz we weren't so bad after all, once he'd read through what your lot can get up to."
Roadbuster shook his head, laughter vibrating lowly through him. "It's a good thing he can't look at what we've decided to keep 'off the record' otherwise he'd probably have second thoughts on the wisdom of associating with us."
"I'm not telling him you said that. Anyway - to actually answer your first question, they're doing extremely well and they all bring something important to the mix." She shrugged a bit, knowing it was one of the reasons each had been chosen but still feeling a need to say it. Every single one of them worked to the utmost to keep improving their abilities and to contribute to the team, though the feeling of 'newness' which had lingered about them once their formal training had been done had started to fade away slowly. "And Shortfall has been fitting in nicely despite being late to join us, as it were."
"It's always difficult for someone new to join a pre-established group as most of our current rank can attest." As they approached the lift to take them to another level, Roadbuster asked, "Do you prefer the officer scene, or a chance to slum it with the grunts?"
"Officer's lounge is usually quieter," was the automatic response followed almost seamlessly by, "though either is fine by me." Fallout had the grace to look a touch apologetic about the clear preference indicated by her answer. Being around too many unknown bots without the team to watch her back made her tense these days, mostly. "I've just gotten used to being in the habit of keeping a low profile ," she elaborated as they stepped into the lift, "unlike some in Intel who are a bit more... extravagant, socially wise." She definitely, absolutely wasn't going to give any names there.
"I've gotten used to 'slumming it', as they say." The two stood back as the lift doors opened and a small group of Autobots stepped out. They nodded in quick acknowledgment but otherwise didn't give the two of them another look. "Tends to be more relaxed and you do get to pick up a wider range of information there. Besides, most of my team are hardly fans of officers." Even Springer rarely set foot in an exclusively officer area unless it pertained to his duty.
The two stepped inside the lift, doors closing shut and Fallout shifted, turning her back towards one of the side panels automatically. "Also, we seem to have acquired some company."
"I noticed," came the calm reply. "I'm assuming they're yours as I didn't hear any obnoxious chatter and snickering." There was a beat and then, "Also, they've evaded my proximity alert so I know they're not mine."
"Longshot and Salvo," she paused briefly, then continued, "and I'm betting Shortfall is in the vents somewhere though he's not in my standard range." And she wasn't about to use anything stronger only to trigger any of the security bots on the base into declaring an infiltration alert of any kind. "...and Callsign is in flight. How in Primus's name did they get Callsign to come out like that?" she boggled at the thought, utterly mystified. Then narrowed it down to the important point of the matter. "And why are they tailing us in the first place anyway?"
"In all likelihood? They found out you're getting a drink with someone and want to know who you're with." The lift stopped a level before the one they were heading for to let on another two Autobots. Roadbuster put a hand to Fallout's shoulder, steering her towards the door. "Come on, we'll hit up the dispenser in the canteen instead and head for the mezzanine." Green optic band curled and flashing in rare mischief, Roadbuster told her, "Let's make them work for their information, shall we?"
"That sounds like a fine idea," was the firm reply, Fallout somehow managing not to stalk right back to her teammates in order to throttle the lot of them. With the addition of another item to her list of things to do for the day (Note to self: Kill them all. Again.) she allowed herself to be steered in the direction Roadbuster pointed them both towards. "One day, Short's going to end up caught in some base's vents during a maintenance cycle and..." she trailed off, a contemplative expression on her faceplates which soon shifted into a half-smile. "It would be horribly mean of me to ensure that might happen sooner rather than later, wouldn't it?"
~*~
#They got off a floor early. Slaggitall, those shafts are tight when switching levels and I have to go back one level down now.#
#Stop complaining and move it, I don't want to miss this!#
#HEY! Look! He put his hand on her!#
#You need to get out more, Salvo.#
#...Longshot, buddy... did you just tell Salvo of all mechs to get out more?#
#Can I beat him up now? Strange mech! Hand on our second-in-command! Hello?! #
#NO!#
#Ow. You didn't have to all yell at once...#
#You're all insane... they're just talking.#
#Oh wow. Callsign just said something while we're at a strange base.#
#Great. Way to go Salvo. Now he won't anymore.#
#Shut up. All of you! ...go on ahead without me, I'll catch up.#
#Heh heh heh. You stuck, Shortfall?#
#I hate you, Longshot. I hate you lots.#
~*~
They appeared to have lost one which, while less than they would have liked, was encouraging to see the Ghosts wouldn't be fooled by such a simple misdirection. On the other hand, as they approached the mezzanine adjacent to the canteen they appeared to have picked up a couple more tailers.
"There they are." Roadbuster said lowly, tone conveying flat acceptance more than annoyance. For now. "Knew they'd show up sometime."
Unlike the members of the Ghost Unit who specialized in covert operations, the Wreckers were generally too large and bulky to do any decent sneaking about, especially without looking suspicious while in the rear. As such, their idea of being covert was to look as if they were in the same area by mere coincidence, splitting into teams to cover and observe all vectors. To all appearances it seemed like Broadside and Scoop were in deep conversation over some kind of schematic. Roadbuster, of course, knew better. The only thing he wasn't certain of was how much of this he had to blame on Springer and how much of this was their idea of alleviating boredom.
"Oh no, we're surrounded?" Fallout couldn't help but laugh quietly, amused by the situation now that both teams were part of the action. "I'm just tempted to blame this situation on our illustrious and fearless leaders, I have to admit." They were walking past the bay windows lining the hallway leading to the mezzanine, dodging a group of mechs chatting and enjoying the view while on break, when it occurred to her that cheating was not only acceptable but to be forcefully encourage in this situation. "Hrm, give me a moment? I think this little game might get very interesting if I can just pull this off..."
One sensor panel whirring slightly as she engaged systems usually only used during missions, Fallout encoded the signals so that the team in the immediate vicinity were excluded save the one mech she was trying to reach and sent out a clear, solid ping. She was rewarded by a portion of the sky outside suddenly flipping about in dismay - Callsign, jarred out of his usual motionless hover by the sudden ping sent his way.
#Er, yes Fallout? I mean, um, well... do you - er, anything I can do? Ahehehe..."
#I can see you.#
#...you're going to kill me, aren't you? I'm going to die a horrible death?# Callsign's terror would have been easier to believe had it not been for the ghoulish delight in his tone. #I told them this was a bad idea, but nooo...#
#Well... I won't kill you if you switch sides and swear eternal allegiance to me, my pretty little fount of knowledge!#
#...Oh! So, if I just let you know where the others are, you'll spare me and only slay everyone else? Terrifying and gruesome deaths for all but me?#
#Depends on the quality of the data, mmm?#
#I kept telling them they were being silly but they didn't listen. ...say, if it's really good data, do I get to suggest ways to ensure their horrible demise?#
#I think I could be talked into that. You may live and assist me in smiting down the enemy! And training sim data is just fine. I like training sim data. It makes me happy.#
#Yay! Shortfall's still stuck in the ventilation system between your floor and the next one, by the way. I can patch you through on what he has to say about it if you'd like? And... firing up all sensors, now!#
"And that's one subverted to our side," Fallout murmured with satisfaction. "Data incoming and... we are live." Resorting to a similar tight-link she'd used when sending the Wreckers data on the battle field, but keeping it narrowed down to Roadbuster, she started sharing the information and coordinates Callsign was sending her way.
"Shall we add your bots' ID signals to the mix?" The opportunity to turn the tables on those trailing them and add some training to the mix for all involved was doing remarkable things for her mood.
Roadbuster smirked, swirling his unopened container of energon contemplatively. "They did bring it upon themselves," he gave a little laugh. "We're absolutely validated in having a little fun with them.
~*~
:So? Who's he with?:
:He's... with a femme.:
A pause resounded over their comm.
:A femme?:
:Seriously?:
:Do you guys want a capture for proof?:
The image transmitted to the rest of the Wreckers, each scrutinizing it carefully.
:Any idea who she is?:
:Without getting a data ping from her, no.:
:Meh, not entirely impressive, is she?:
:This is RB we're talking about. He doesn't go for ostentatious. He actually has standards.:
:...was that a crack at me and Sandstorm?:
:Hey- I have standards!:
:Right, Sandy. Your standards are just so low you constantly pass right by them without noticing.:
:I do not!:
:Whoa- hey! Hold off on the chatter guys, they're moving out!:
:Moving? Where to?:
:They're headed to the eastern exit of the mezzanine. Twist, Spin, you two are the closest. Me and Side will move from our position as soon as we're cleared.:
:Roger that.:
~*~
The mezzanine exit was cleared without either of them bursting out in laughter at the antics of the more visible mechs following them, even as an audio of Shortfall's cursing and swearing was gleefully relayed to them by Callsign, along with whatever amusing bit of visuals he could grab from his eye-in-the-sky positioning.
"You know, it occurs to me that you're being a bad, bad influence." Fallout informed the large mech with careful solemnity.
"Lies. I am the paragon of professionalism and morality." He quipped back. The bottom half of his battlemask slid back as he sipped lightly at his energon, smile playing along the edges of his lips.
Fallout smiled back. "You know, if we manage to get them busy following one or the both of us at variable intervals-"
"We could probably get them all in one place?"
"And then add Shortfall to the mix. I could ping the base's ventilation maintenance into action. I bet he'd make a spectacular landing with all the pressure build up, particularly if I find a main distribution hub to redirect up..." She couldn't use her visor to get to any of the floor or duct plans, obviously - it would be a dead giveaway to snap it down for such a thing. But she could easily access the data anyway via remote so long as someone made sure to keep her from walking into things. "Make sure I don't walk in anything, would you? Going to access the vent schematics from the central archives and add it to what we already have and see what we can work with... I should probably tap into the maintenance systems too..."
Roadbuster dutifully put a hand to Fallout's elbow, the breadth of it neatly covering most of her arm. With Callsign's data being filtered to him, the Wrecker could see his team switching positions, two of them moving to intercept at an upcoming, heavily trafficked area. Deciding runaround was decidedly fairplay, he pulled Fallout closer to his side and led her down a smaller hallway, curious to see how long it would take his team to realize they overshot their targets. Or if they'd inadvertently stumble on the tailing Ghosts...
Once the architectural plans were retrieved from the base's central archives, overlaying that over the plans they already had combined to the location of both teams was disarmingly easy. Since Roadbuster had navigated them out of sight once she pulled out of the data feed, Fallout quickly snapped down her visor and meshed everything together, quickly narrowing the ventilation system's potential critical mass locations to two - one of which was on the other side of the base and therefore unsuitable, and one two floors away. She threw it back to Callsign who quite gleefully integrated the static overlay of data to his own feed, sending it back to the both of them with a pleased hum.
"I think we have a goal to aim for," she grinned, visor sliding back up just in case they should fall back in sight of either of their teams. "Any preferences as to how we get them there?
"Your team is already tailing us, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem leading them in that direction. Mine, though..." He thought for a moment, pace kept long and slow enough for Fallout to keep up with little problem. "If we keep dodging their stake outs, they'll have to start moving after us actively instead of passively waiting for us to come to them. Which, since we've already lost one, they'll regroup to do a more direct tailing." Roadbuster smirked to himself, wishing he could actually see the looks on his teammates' faceplates when they realized he'd avoided them.
~*~
:Spin, I'd hate to say this-:
:Then don't.:
:I think we lost them.:
:Didn't I tell you NOT to say that?:
:Face it, they took one of these smaller turnoffs before they were in range of our proximity alerts:
:Right. One of these tiny halls that can barely just hold a mech RB's size.:
:They had to have. It's the only explanation, though WHY is still up for grabs...:
:To have his sordid way with her, of course.:
Twin Twist rocked to an abrupt halt, staring at his fellow jumpstarter in something akin to horror. "Don't tell me that!"
"Whaaaat?" Topspin drawled off their comm. "You wanted an explanation and it's not like he doesn't get the urge every now and again."
The look he got was flat and unamused. "Spin, please. You know what Roadbuster's like, that wouldn't happen." :Besides,: he continued back on their comm again as well as their pace down the hall, :he could break her with one hand.:
:I'm sure there's femmes out there that like it rough.:
:Y'know what? I'm gonna ignore you in favor of alerting the others we lost them. We'll regroup at their previous known location and figure out what to do from there.:
~*~
#Um...guys?#
#Shut up, Shortfall. Busy here.#
#She went that way. This not using sensors to not warn her deal is making this harder than it ought to be!#
#You think a mech as big as the one with her would be easier to follow...#
#Er... guys?#
#Yeah, the mech with a hand on her!#
#Salvo...#
#I think they split up.#
#No, really. GUYS!?#
#Hey... why hasn't Callsign said anything in a while?#
#...oh no he didn't...#
#So... them splitting up? It's a bad thing. It means that the little... hey, who are these mec-#
#Fine, no advance warning for you. You can all drown for all I care! INCOMING!#
~*~
The sound of water gushing just barely didn't overwhelm the soggy cries of 'WARGH!' from down the hall. Roadbuster gave a little hum, "Right on time," before draining the last of his energon and tossing the container down a nearby waste receptacle. He pushed off the wall and canted his head towards Fallout. "Shall we see the outcome of our hard work?"
The signatures of her own lot were moving out and fast, Shortfall's in particular apparently moving in sudden bursts of ill-directed speed - skids on still cleanser-covered pedes, she suspected with amusement.
"Might be best if I went to find my own instead of lingering," she was trying so very hard not to laugh too much. "They've already made a run for it and as tempting as it is to go mock your bots, I think I'll hold off a little bit longer on making anything formal." She grinned up at him. "Besides, I want to detour by the security center now to get copies of all this before one of them thinks to erase all incriminating evidence... think you can keep them busy while I do that?" Her smile grew wider. "I'll get you your own copies, of course."
He lifted a hand in a half wave, "Will do." He watched Fallout slip down the corridor before turning towards the spluttering and indignant curses, battlemask slipping back over his face. After a ten beat count, Roadbuster strode towards his flailing team, turned the corner and stopped just short of the waterline. He opened up an audio/visual link to Fallout- she certainly did deserve to see her work in real time. Cleaning solution still trickled down the exploded vent- the vent covering itself dented beyond repair and currently embedded over Scoop's helmet. A sadistic smile ALMOST pulled at Roadbuster's expression, but he ironed it out as his team froze their tangle of limbs and stared up at him.
"Roadbuster..." The name was strained and quiet, no one knowing what to say to him.
"What," he said in that low, no-nonsense way that said he was about to get seriously annoyed in half a nano-klik, "is going on here?"
"Look- it's not what you think-"
"Isn't it? Because right now I think the six of you have caused property damage to a base that we were not, in fact, authorized to destroy. Am I wrong?"
"But it wasn't us!"
"So an air vent- AIR VENT, mind, not built to hold any sort of liquids -conveniently decided to exploded while you were right under it, is that it?"
"It wasn't us! There- there was this mini-bot-"
"What did I tell you last time about stuffing mini-bots in places they are not meant to be stuffed in?"
Arms flailed at him. "We're telling the truth, RB! We didn't do anything! This mini-bot came flying out the vent with all this water and then he ran off!"
"After stepping on my fraggin' face."
"That's his tracks right there!"
Roadbuster made a show of stepping through the solution and studying Shortfall's tracks as well as the others made by his fellow Ghosts. He turned back to the Wreckers, finally all on their feet. "You will find," he told them with no room for disobedience, "cleaning supplies and you will mop this mess up."
"But-"
"You will do this. Now. Before anyone else finds out about this and files a complaint to Springer that he is incapable of keeping his mechs in line for even five cycles. Whoever this mysterious vent-crawler of yours is, I'll deal with it. Is that understood?"
"Yessir."
"Good." Roadbuster pulled back, arms folded across his chestplate as he regarded his Wreckers. "And stop following me."
He was treated with six flabbergasted expressions before he turned away, no longer able to keep the grin from his faceplates. He transmitted to Fallout, :I love my job.:
Laughter was the only reply she was able to give him in return.