Series: The Ghost Unit
Title: Authentication (#31)
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: How do you make something that doesn't exist official, anyway?

Authentication
"Change is inevitable. Change for the better is a full-time job."
~ Adlai E. Stevenson

"So," the black and white mech sprawled on the chair facing Flagship's desk smiled genially, "they seem to have come along pretty well. With the odd mishap happenin' now and then." The smile grew slightly and Flagship had no doubt that a recent (and very unofficial) mission report had everything to do with it.

"They are." The quiet pride in his voice was ill-concealed, but then again he could afford to let as much show to Jazz, he supposed.

"They've all adjusted admirably well. Some even better than expected." Deadline didn't move as he spoke, wreathing the far corner of the room in shadows. "Callsign in particular seems to have taken to his new life with surprising swiftness, considering the length and depth of the trauma he endured previously."

Jazz's features darkened at the reminder. He remembered the horror in Deadline's optics only too well when he'd realized exactly how much pain Callsign had been subjected to at every moment, before they had brought him in for refits. It had been one of the few times the former Decepticon's composure had been utterly broken. The only other time Jazz had seen so much emotion from the mech was when he'd been originally extracted from behind enemy lines and brought over to their side and the events of that day were something Jazz preferred to avoid thinking about, if at all possible.

"He was one of the mechs we were the most worried about. All the others had varying reasons to adapt to this unit's purpose, a drive that ensured they would mesh well as a group regardless of how different they might be in terms of character. But we didn't have the same on file for Callsign," he admitted, knowing he was only confirming the profiling Deadline had done for them originally anyway. "Anyway - seems it's a moot point now. He's found his own place in the group well enough."

Neither Flagship nor Deadline responded to that one, but from the sudden lightening in the room everyone agreed. The team had taken to Callsign just as emphatically as he had to them, really. The depth of the fierce protectiveness the large flier had generated had been unanticipated by the observers, yet was approved of entirely.

"I notice some of your notes on file are a bit dry," Jazz murmured, sliding Deadline a sidelong look. The mech shrugged slightly in return, unfazed by the scrutiny.

"What needs to be stated is on file."

Jazz hid a smile at the reply, though in his estimate team integration went far beyond the bots outside the office.

"Right then. We're ready to make this official 'n all, I think." And because he knew it was the one thing foremost on their processors - as well as the rest of the team's - Jazz smirked. "Besides - it's about time we got you out of this hole and found you a proper fancy schmancy secret base of operations, dont'cha think?"

~*~

"This is a high level meeting?"

"Yes." Flagship's reply was filled with patient amusement. His second had been just a bit on edge since the news had arrived that it was time for the Ghost Unit's formal transition from training to fully active black ops unit. Which included an introduction to the Powers that Be - the few of them who would be allowed to know about them, anyway. The rest of the team had not quite slammed the doors of the base while shouting 'Good riddance' as the two had left for the Hub. (But it had been close.)

"And you can't tell me who will be in attendance other than Jazz, because so far he's been our sole supervisor at Intel since the unit's been set up." The femme slid a sidelong look towards her commanding officer, even though she already knew what the answer would be. "Since we don't exist."

"That's right."

"He's recruited you for his 'Relax, Fallout!' torture campaign, hasn't he?" She was only half-joking he knew. Though she'd been terribly unsettled by the saboteur at first, she'd started to take their more extravagant link with the rest of Intel more in stride as time went by. That Jazz insisted on dragging a smile from her on every visit likely had something to do with it - it was impossible to remain entirely composed when that particular mech bent his full attention on breaking someone's solemnity. Flagship only chuckled in reply and after a last half-smile, Fallout resumed peering intently at one of the several data pads she carried. Flagship had no doubt she was likely processing an equal amount of data directly from the Hub's public net as well, in order to try and remain composed.

As they cut a line through the crowded hallways of the Hub, the femme took another ground eating stride, having adapted to walking by larger mechs not long after she'd figured out how to walk in her new shell. Sometimes Flagship suspected it had more to do with going faster rather than slower being natural for her more than anything else. It still didn't help half the time when dealing with some of the more over-sized mechs which were prevalent in the service, but then again she was hardly the only smaller bot any of them had ever had to work with either. Both sides adapted and a compatible compromised was inevitably reached - it just usually happened to involve Fallout walking faster rather than slower. Though her current pace likely had a lot more to do with the meeting they were heading into, he had no doubt.

"You need to slow down, is what!" The cheerful catcall heralded the arrival of a third member to the little party, though this one drew far more attention within a few kliks than the two Ghosts had since their arrival. Sidling in between them to clap each of them on the shoulder (one higher than him, the other lower), Jazz beamed at them.

"Please tell me I'm not his latest pet project?" The mock-pleading tone to his second in command's voice only caused Jazz's smile to grow wider as he waited for her superior officer's reply. There was no doubt he enjoyed the interaction, and that Fallout doing her best to get out of things each time only made the whole endeavor that much more fun.

"That would be lying," Flagship answered gravely. Fallout did not quite look as though he'd spoken her death sentence. Right up until Jazz smirked at her and she managed to dredge up a somewhat passable smile for him in return.

"I like walking at this speed, I'll have you know." Though she didn't shrug the hand off her shoulder, the thought 'ugh, get it off, need to look professional here' practically screamed out at both mechs. "I'm relaxed walking at this speed. Fast is good."

The only response to that argument was laughter, Jazz releasing the both of them to move ahead smoothly as they finally arrived at their destination while mercifully not taking the easy line she'd just offered up. One of Fallout's sensor panels twitched slightly, something the entire team had quickly learned to read as either restrained irritation or amusement - and sometimes both.

"Tell you what. You take a moment to get all composed an' stuff, and I'll go introduce the two of you, mmm?" With that, the white and black mech slipped through the doorway and out of sight. Flagship paused at that, staring at the door pensively. Fallout twitched.

"...that's not reassuring. Do we have to let him do that?"

"Yes. And Fallout."

"What?"

"Don't throw that datapad when he comes back out to let us in."

"...spoilsport."