Series: The Ghost Unit
Title: Fallout - Consequences (5)
Setting: IDW Transformers, inspired by the "What's Wrong with a Little Destruction" 'verse by ajremix
Note: D'oh! Betas of awesomeness are rexlapinii and ajremix! And I are very sheepish about not noting this before, waugh! >.<

Building the Team: Fallout - Consequences
"Heaven, on occasion, half opens its arms to us; and that is the great moment."
~ Victor Hugo

The mech at the counter beamed and held a package above his head, a single optic glinting down in amusement at the small and curvy courier mock-glaring up at him.

"C'mon, Steam, I have to finish delivering this stuff before my shift ends," she reminded him, refusing - as ever - to play the game. If she did, it would involve bombs and destroying the floor underneath the mech as a means of leveling their heights and since the entire concept was entirely against regulations (and would take a chunk out of her pay in repairs never mind the black mark on her record), she wasn't going there. Yet. The thought, now and again, was entirely appealing. The fact that she liked the mech behind the counter however played entirely to his advantage and he, of course, used this to his advantage mercilessly.

With a chuckle, Steampump finally gave in and handed her the package, not even bothering to talk her through the usual sign off - she knew the forms better than he did, after all.

"They finally sending you to the front, little bit?" The question was genial and no offense was taken by the femme, though her pretty features darkened slightly as she shook her head.

"Wrong model, can't shoot to save my life still," she muttered bitterly over the forms, tapping out section after section at a rapid fire pace, filling them out with a clarity and neatness that had sent more than one clerk in fits of delight. "I'm too delicate." The last word was said with a mixture of scorn and annoyance - scorn towards those who had determined that based on her outward frame, annoyance in general at still being thwarted after all this time and having to admit that, just maybe, they were right. Both of them knew that femmes who had not managed to make it to the frontlines early on when the war had started were now being kept back from combat, through some unspoken decision to try and diminish the chances of losing any more of the few left. Which left only so many duties for her to fulfill, only so many commands to consider, none of them which served to assuage a deep seated need to do more, whatever more ended up being.

"That's sad," Steam signed, shaking his head in sympathy. Though sidelined himself due to injuries too severe to allow a return to full combat, he'd seen enough to know it wasn't all about brawn. The shooting, though - that was something he wasn't bringing up. Femmes were renowned for being good shots and some still snuck through to the front lines due to sheer raw ability alone. The femme filling up the form before him would most certainly not be one of those. What she lacked for in precision she more than made up for in brute strength effect, admittedly. Unfortunately, an uncanny talent for demolitions which kept being honed further through an obsession to perfect what she could do well just wasn't ideal to help her break through as she wished to.

"We all do what we can," she filled out another section and handed him the form after adding her own electronic signature to it, a plethora of security levels and measures all satisfied in one fell swoop. "Seems like I have a time limit on this one, so I might as well head off," she tucked the package away in one of her cargo holds, activating the security fields automatically once it was closed and secured. In between opportunities to do more, to push things a little further, one tiny step at a time, the return to courier work was always comforting, somehow. Dependable.

"Yeah, I noticed." He grinned suddenly, the expression brightening up his features, the expression shifting his appearance from plain to appealing. "So. They really think that a timed delivery'll be a challenge for you?"

The answering grin, sharp and confident, drew a bark of approving laughter from him.

---

She'd had not really expected to be tailed during a routine delivery, time sensitive as it was. Still, she'd spotted the two mechs following her quickly enough and taking them and their alt-modes through the meandering streets and highways of the city had been something to do to pass away the time. She'd thought the outraged squawk from the flier particularly entertaining when presented with the sharp change in scenery - he'd avoided crashing with brio however, even as she ditched him only to fall under the observation of the other half of the team tailing her.

The use of sting grenades had been a bit evil, perhaps, but they'd served well enough for her to conclude that whoever was following her was 1) military in training at the very least and 2) had to be Autobot, as there'd be no way for Decepticons to infiltrate this deep into city limits without some sort of authorization, particularly with the public display all three of them were indulging in. Which meant some weird sort of training exercise. Nothing she'd ever been exposed to before, but she'd heard about such occurrences. The implications of it were set firmly aside, lest the possibilities distract her so badly she crash herself and ruin everything.

And then things had gotten serious, quickly so. Probably, she had to admit, because she'd used the sting grenades, as perfectly legal as they were for a courier to use under the circumstances. Which left her to mostly concentrate on getting away from them as best as she could, while not getting shot up anymore (the low level bursts they were using were hardly fatal, but certainly stung!) or crashing into something in the process. The first burst of speed she'd put on had seemed to have taken them aback - then again, her aft still stung and she was getting more and more motivated about the whole getting away part of the equation. Preferably quickly enough that her delivery would still be on time (which, she estimated, she still had a comfortable margin of time to work with.)

Another shot nearly hit her and with a grumble of annoyance at whatever this was about, she released the dampeners on her turbines, shooting ahead while dodging through the traffic of the main road with ease. Her pursuers were soon left behind, thanks to the judicious use of her courier authorizations on the city navigational systems coupled with speed above that of what her model would lead one to expect. Once satisfied she truly had lost them, she doubled back using some of the lesser frequented roads and headed towards her original destination, making it there just in time to transform out of her alt-mode and confirm a notice of arrival for the central delivery database. Only to stare upwards, as the signals she thought she'd lost re-appeared, heading for her unerringly. After a moment's ambivalence she narrowed her optics and stood straight, waiting for them. Once the flier had landed both mechs transformed, shedding their alts modes to stand in front of her. She studied them intently, determined to wait and let them speak first as both simply stood there, studying her in return. Finally, the larger of the two mech stepped forward, lighting shifting to revealing craggy features framed in dark browns and greens.

"So. We're smack dab in the middle of Kaon. Interceptors and security personnel left, right and center. Why didn't you call for backup?" The tone was flat and uncompromising, though not judgmental and the question was so unexpected that she blurted out the first thing that crossed her processors.

"I didn't need to." She hadn't quite meant to make it sound as though it was such an obvious thing, but she'd known all along she could ditch them at any moment. She was a courier model. They'd obviously not been out to harm her, at least fatally. The chase had been a challenge, but not a threat. And... speed was her life's blood. Clearly some of this was easy to read in her expression, judging from the smile growing on the other's faceplates, his optics gleaming with a strange sort of gleeful possessiveness.

"My name if Flagship. I have an offer for you."

---

Cycles earlier...

"No."

"But-"

"No. None of these will do." Flagship shook his head and handed back the data pads to Springer. "I know they're ideal. And they are, really. Under-utilized at the moment, with more potential than they're being allowed to exhibit. Which is what we're looking for in the mechs of this team." Shaking his head minutely once more, Flagship turned to another stack of data pads, sorting through them until he found the one he was looking for. "That's also why they won't do as my second-in-command."

"I'm curious. Why?"

"Because even though they're under-utilized now, they won't be soon enough. That kind of potential you've shown me will get noticed, sooner rather than later. They'll get their chance." Leaving the datapad closed, Flagship smiled slightly. "And the whole idea is to find me a second-in-command who otherwise would never be able to aspire to something like this, isn't it? Someone whose talents and abilities would otherwise go to waste." As his own had, for so long.

When the green mech shrugged and conceded the point gracefully, Flagship's smile grew.

"I have someone in mind. I'll let you know when I confirm my thoughts on this one."

Current Mood: calm