Series: The Ghost Unit
Title: Infestation (#30)
Setting: IDW Transformers, inspired by the "What's Wrong with a Little Destruction" 'verse by ajremix.
Note: Many thanks to rexlapinii and ajremix for beta-ing!
Summary: And sometimes, things can get a touch weird even from a Ghost's perspective.

Infestation
"I don't like spiders, okay? Their furry bodies, and their sticky webs, and what do they need all those legs for anyway? I'll tell you: for crawling across your face in the middle of the night. Ewww! How do they not ruffle you?"
~ Willow, BtVS, Nightmares

"They're gone."

"Huh?" In what he considered a very useful habit, Shortfall pretended to be interested at all times. That way, there was no chance he'd lose out on the possibly interesting tidbit of information hidden in the deeply boring things most people had to say. (Sometimes though, his version of sounding interested didn't quite match up with the rest of the universe's version thereof. In those instances, Shortfall usually informed the universe it was wrong and went on his merry way.)

"...the reports. The ones I put on Flagship's desk. They're gone." The look in Fallout's optics promised murder and mayhem. It was always the quiet, polite ones that you had to look out for, he reflected.

"Don't have it." As a reflex, he made sure that the datapads he was currently roosting on where all his (yep, yep, Longshot's, yep, yep, Salvo's, yep and check!). "Hey, if you're going to blame me I-"

"Why," Fallout slowly turned around to give him a look of supreme annoyance, "would I blame you when you just said you didn't have it?"

"Er... sorry. Reflex." He even felt sheepish as he apologized. For all that he had a new shell, and nifty second alt mode (which Salvo was still sore at him about as the triplechanger procedure had originally been meant for the combat mech and maybe he should return that data pad of his sometime soon) and people who actually well... believed in him, Shortfall still tended to fall back on old habits now and then when in a tight spot. These decidedly odd bots he'd fallen in with made it really hard to live by his previous set of acquired instincts though, and he'd be upset with them were it not for the fact that, well, it was just getting harder and harder to stay annoyed at any of them, lately. Even if they had shot him into a Decepticon base using a canon. (It had actually turned out to be kind of fun. He would never, ever admit as much.) And Fallout was still staring at him. Patiently.

"Er. Want help lookin' for 'em?"

"That would be lovely! Thank you!" Annoyance turned to beaming approval in a heartbeat and Shortfall had the nagging feeling he'd just been thoroughly played by the straight man of the team. Again.

~*~

"Huh. I think they went this way..." Shortfall's voice echoed out of the vent he was inspecting, sounding more than a little confused. "Hmm..." He poked his head out of the vent and stared at the desk on the other side of the room contemplatively before ducking back inside the depths of the ventilation system. They'd looked in all the obvious places, everywhere the data pads normally could have been placed and come up with nothing. The slightly askew vent had been kept for last, neither of them actually bringing it up even though they'd both noticed it early on during their search. Even when they'd finally only had the vent to look over, they'd said nothing. Just stared at it together for a while before heading towards it purposefully, Shortfall activating his (still new) magnetic clamps and testing them out to get to the vent opening while Fallout pried the cover out of its moorings and set it on the ground carefully.

"This still doesn't explain how the data pads made it up there all on their own," Fallout pointed out reasonably. The tone of her voice suggested perhaps she didn't want to know how they'd ended up there, though by now both suspected a prank from one of their more comically inclined brethren in the unit. "One would think Longshot would know better than to mess with my reports with what happened to him the last time he did that."

The comment drew a snort and a muffled snicker from the petro-rat inspecting the vent, the echo redoubling in on itself briefly before settling. It had been the last (and only) time any of the team had even considered going near one of Fallout's reports, in fact. And though Shortfall hadn't been present at the time, he'd heard enough about it from Salvo (and remembered his own first introduction to the 2IC still far too clearly) to stay away from any report that bore her signature. Another snicker escaped him (not a giggle, nuh-huh) as he padded deeper into the maze of the ventilation system running through the old base.

"You're giggling again." Fallout's voice was fading with each step he took further though he could still hear her clearly enough - a few more turns and they'd be switching to the team channels he still hated to use. That she was respecting his lingering discomfort with the system and still using speech was something he'd have to thank her for, someday, he thought idly, turning another corner.

"I don't giggle. And yeah, still no - eurgh..." He paused and lifted a pede, inspecting it in the darkness. "Eurgh!"

"What?" Fallout's voice was patient enough, considering it was her reports they were still looking for, but the awful calmness of it boded ill if the mention of something horrible happening to said reports came up Shortfall knew. Thankfully (sort of) it wasn't the reports generating that reaction from him.

"Stepped into some weird sort of gunk. Wait, lemme add a few filters to my visuals here and - EURGH!"

"What!?"

"The gunk is lining the whole vent system from this point on! What the slag is this stuff?"

"Use your systems to run some primary analysis and-"

"I know, I know! I actually remember I have these now, thank you! This is just... really disgusting," he finished quietly, leaning forward to peer more closely at the material glimmering at him through the filters he was using to observe it. "Yeah - look, I'll take a sample and we can see if Deadline can make some-mgmlrf!!!"

"Could you repeat that, I didn't quite hear-"

"MRGNLFFF!"

#Use this channel, Shortfall. It's just the two of us on it. What's going on?#

#The wall just pounced on me.#

#...the wall?#

#Fallout? Let me repeat this, just so we're clear. The wall just pounced on me,# Shortfall said reasonably, before switching tone entirely, #AND IS NOW GNAWING ON MY WHEEL PRIMUS GET IT OFF!!!#

#...oh dear.#

~*~

#Get it off.#

#Shortfall, calm down. I'm doing my best to get to you and-#

#OFF! NOW!#

#Really, you have to be reasonable here-#

#I WILL SHOW YOU REASONABLE YOU OVER-#

#I think it just likes you, that's all.#

#...you are an evil, heartless femme and I deeply and intensely HATE you.#

Fallout leaned out a bit more from the ventilation shaft exit she was occupying, the same gunk which had been lining the vent Shortfall had originally found gleaming on her shoulders and arms, the remnants of her own trip through the vents. The mini-bot was in the center of an air distribution room located deep within the ventilation system, busily glaring up painful and dire retribution at his partner. The odd, jelly like shape which had snagged him and dragged him back to its lair purred at him even as it submerged him further, leaving only the petro-rat's head to stick out of the mass of sticky goo which the creature seemed to be composed of.

#Don't you dare take any captures. Just... don't!#

#Oh! They're here!# Fallout beamed at her partner and wriggled an arm free to point beyond him at the pile of data pads carelessly strewn about in a corner. Each bored its own share of goo and further inspection showed that a few had odd dent marks upon the edges.

#Um... this thing doesn't really have teeth, does it?# There was a definite edge of renewed panic to Shortfall's question and Fallout had to admit it wasn't entirely without cause. He was entirely covered in the stuff, though it did seem mostly busy purring and cooing at him...

#I don't see any?# It was biological, nothing Fallout had ever even come across during any of her data streaming and it looked inoffensive enough. Even if it was able to bot-nap a mech and handily drag him to its lair.

#Look. I'm tryin' to be reasonable about this. Really, I am. I'm not shootin' up the place or anythin'. I'm not even shootin' at you! See how reasonable I'm bein'?# The minibot's accent thickened as he spoke, a full body twitch now and then revealing he was still trying to struggle his way to freedom somehow. The mass of goo continued its hugging and purring unabated. #But even an eminently reasonable being like me has limits yanno and-#

A loud, startled yelp interrupted his diatribe and the astonished mini-bot stared as his partner did her level best to bolt out of the vent she was still half-inhabiting. She scrabbled at the edge as she peeled herself out of the passageway with impressive dexterity even for a femme, sliding down the wall of the central room for a few feet before literally throwing herself to the opposite wall. Magnetic clamps sealed her in place with a dull sound of metal on metal and she stared up towards the opening high above them with wide, slightly horrified optics.

#There's something else IN THERE.# It was the first time she'd raised her voice since the whole misbegotten adventure had begun and Shortfall figured if he hadn't been panicking already, that particular moment probably would have been a good time to start doing so. She shifted so that her back was to the wall, magnetic clamps sealing and unsealing as they adjusted to her nervous motions.

#Oh. Really. Ya don't say?# Sarcasm was such a wonderful way of expressing one's panic, he thought dimly. Then stared as she unclamped one pede from the wall and angled it toward him, twisting to present the edge of a thruster for his inspection.

#It wasn't gooey.# A neat row of needle like punctures lined a portion of one of the rims, gleaming under the filters he was using to see in the dark. Whatever had done the damage had literally gone through the metal, he realized.

#Um...# Without a word, Shortfall turned to inspect the dent marks they'd seen earlier on the data pads in the corner. #...yeah. Those match.# Briefly, he wondered what in the universe the data pads she used were made from, then dismissed the idea entirely. He did not care in the least what happened to the data pads, all things told.

It was then that a slow, rattling hiss drew both their attention towards the top of the room, even as something started to uncoil from the ventilation shaft Fallout had been occupying moments before.

#...that ain't goo.#

~*~

#Duck! Primus, move faster already!#

#DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW SMALL A SPACE THIS IS!?#

#ACK! YOU JUST STEPPED ON ME! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST-#

#I'm trying not to get gnawed to bits thankyouvermuchewitbitmeagaingetitoffgetitoff- that's it.#

The creature screeched loudly as it charged once more, loops of serrated coils streaming through the small room as it chased down the femme scrambling desperately to stay out of its grasp. The goo hummed and cooed and held on to the mini-bot through the whole thing, clearly oblivious and uncaring of the monstrous creature doing its best to catch the fleeing femme. To Shortfall's utter shock, however, Fallout suddenly stopped in her tracks (technically, having wedged herself in the upper left corner of the room) and gave the bug-like creature a flat look. She reached for her side and palmed something from one of the cargo holds concealed there, activating it at the same time. The high-pitched whine it emitted was disturbingly familiar.

#This ends now.#

#...Fallout, that's not what I think it is you're holding there, is it?#

#Power down your optics,# was the grim, uncompromising reply, even as the femme activated the bomb and threw it right at the creature's gaping maw.

~*~

#...Did I mention I hate you, yet?#

#It's the twenty-third time now in the last breem, actually.#

#I can't believe you used a bomb.#

#Whatever that thing was, its armor was solid enough to buffer the blast.#

#I can't believe you actually made me dig out the last of those data pads too.#

#I dug too.#

#I still hate you.#

#I dug you out, too.#

#AFTER THE REPORTS! YOU DUG ME OUT AFTER THE FRAGGIN' REPORTS!#

#You were fine. Your systems checks were all optimal for the situation. The reports might have been damaged!#

#That thing could eat through your plating and couldn't even do more than dent the things! They were FINE!#

#...huh. Really? That's interesting. I should look into what they use to make those. Maybe-#

#DO NOT CHANGE THE SUBJECT!#

#-we could use something similar for additional plating on some missions-#

#Don't even try to distract me slaggit I won't be distracted! I ...that kind of plating'd be good for Callsign maybe, you think?#

#Mm-mmm. And Salvo. ..you dropped a mandible there. I think it's a mandible?#

#I am not picking that back up do not give me that look I refuse to - oh FINE!#

With light, careful motions the mini-bot retraced his steps, leaned down carefully and picked up the bug part which had peeled off his armor, looking down both ends of the hallways discreetly as he did so. The disposal units were two corridors away and the wash racks one more block beyond that. Fallout, still patched into the base's camera system, motioned an all clear for them to move on without witnesses. The two bots, covered in baked and vaguely insect-like bug parts shambled on carefully, trying not to leave any trace of their passage behind.

#...let's just get rid of this stuff covering us and hit the wash racks, ASAP.#

#I concur.#

#You slaggin' well better.#

#If you ask nicely, I'll even pry that antenna out of your back plating.#

#...I hate you.#

#Now that wasn't very nice.#

#...Fallout...#

#Yes?#

#...please pry that antenna out of my back plating when we get to the wash racks?#

#Of course I will.#

#Also? I hate you.#

#I'll even help you get the hardened goo out of your joints.#

#...maybe I hate you a little bit less now.#

#I thought you'd say that.#

Current Mood: amused