[ti]Ep 2[/ti]Recruit's Arrival (Closed) (Fin)

[Soundwave]

A subtle dip of the helm was all that was done in return, a polite motion to counter the wordless greeting that the silver mech had offered. To be honest, Soundwave had very little frame of reference for what was normal for the sniper, having never heard much about him off of a battlefield situation where it was just distant reports. Calculated, status on capabilities or weapon choice, how much of a threat he may have been... It was never anything with real substance. Perhaps then he would have understood how odd it was that he was so silent, but instead, he took it as normality, or as normal as it could be with the tension in the air.

There was an obvious nervousness in play, and frankly, it was to be expected. If the two Autobots had become lax, or at ease immediately in his presence, it would have been a sign of foolishness as far as Soundwave was concerned. Minor trust was to be had on some level, respect in the laws applied by high command, but do not throw your life away under the blind hope it would all go according to plan. As such, it was smart they seemed apprehensive.

Watching carefully, Soundwave was taking in exactly how this ordeal would be handled, recording it just being a natural given. He wanted to see what all it entailed for someone so very unknown in this war to be brought into their ranks. It wasn't like it was a notable figurehead who was a known Autobot due to valiant efforts in the past, it wasn’t some huge war hero or promoted name like Ultra Magnus or Ironhide. As far as he was aware she was an unknown, who were the most dangerous of newcomers to contend with.

When Decepticons brought in someone new, it did not matter. If it ended up being an Autobot spy, since well... Soundwave tended to root them out rather readily through surveillance. It was a hard fought battle to keep within the Nemesis long term, and more often than not it lead to less than desirable outcomes for the individual. Whatever information the Bot could pull, well... it seldom truly hindered them. Plans get skewed, take a sidestep, and then try to regroup and move on, sweeping up the trooper corpses from the halls. The location of the Decepticon warship always changed, so it wasn’t like they could snitch and have a sneak attack hit them later on when they had their guard down.

The Autobots were different.

One spy, one hitch, one issue, and they would have to pack up and move. There was no way the Ark was functional again, not after the damage it took, which meant they had to be ground bound and vulnerable. So much trust had to be placed on the shoulders of their recruits; it was a miracle that Makeshift had failed so spectacularly.

So here Soundwave watched, trying to learn what questions may be asked if any, what sort of codes may be passed between, and how much of their process relied on pure hope and luck.

[Bluestreak]

The tall spindly mech nearby barely moved. Yet he did offer his own brief version of a nod in return.

Even with the heat of the sand and stone under his feet, Bluestreak had to seriously suppress the shudder that threatened to crawl up his frame. There was something downright unnerving about looking into that triangular visage. Not even a faint glimmer of an optic behind that dark screen. It made him look incredibly - well, mechanical. Sure, okay, they were all mechanical, right, haha Bluestreak, there's a joke in this, but no, like a computer screen or a datapad. A thing with no personality behind it - nothing but what was programmed into it. Sort of like how Bluestreak often found that human cars at night parked in parking garages felt like you'd wandered into a large group of the dead. Totally spooky, even if you understood they had no lives of their own.

Bluestreak half hoped Soundwave was going to pack up, to transform and leave but... no such luck. Of course not. He simply held his place above them like one of those carrion eating storks. Probably waiting for one of them to break a leg so he could eat them or something. Well, that was a cheery thought, but hey, not undeserved. All Decepticons were practically vultures as far as the sharpshooter was concerned.

Doing his best to politely ignore the lurking Decepticon, Bluestreak's gaze rested on the femme in front of him. If their optics met, the tall silver mech's look was one of honest understanding and a little relief at her friendly answer. She seemed as if she was as anxious as he was to show this guy her heels and sprint off to safety.

"No problem, sorry about the wait," he told her. "We'll get out of here lickity-split, won't be a problem. I just need you to do one thing; need you to send your codes back on the channel I'm going to send to you really quick. They're gonna verify you before I can take you anywhere, all right?"

Bluestreak appeared apologetic. His doors twitched slightly. "Then we'll head out."

Sure, it wasn't a perfect solution. Yet it was something, and he inclined his head.

A few seconds later there would be a soft ping along Javelin's comm-channels; one of the encrypted emergency channels from a long time ago.

"Just send it along there," he encouraged her kindly, even as he kept his eyes on the Decepticon above them.

He knew Ratchet was standing by, and he also had a feeling that the medic was being as cautious as he was. Sure, there was a truce. Yes, they weren't attempting to kill each other on sight, but that didn't mean that they couldn't decide in five minutes that things were going to change. That's how Decepticons worked.

[Javelin]

Keeping an eye on Soundwave as she looked over her shoulder, Javelin was listening to every word Bluestreak spoke, listening to him explain what she had to do, what was needed of her before she could get to the safety of the base. She hoped there was some form of doctor back there - her head was starting to twinge. Maybe the drop from that cliff hadn't been as simple as she thought.

Or else the tension was just starting to get to her.

Turning back and looking up at Bluestreak, she read his face, and a part of her felt a little better when she saw he was still as nervous as she was. He clearly had a case of the creeps as much as she did when it came to the Decepticon. It was odd that another's unease could make her feel better, but it signaled to her it was unnatural and her own creepiness about the whole thing wasn't off. If the only other Autobot she had met here had been very comfortable and at ease about the whole thing, Javelin would have to seriously wonder if she could fit in. There was simply no way she could relax, not in this situation. It helped to know someone else was on pins and needles too.

She mentally smiled as his doors twitched, how sorry he sounded. It wasn't his fault they had a 'Con watching them like death on a hill or something. She almost wanted to tell him it was fine, they were doing just fine, but Soundwave's presence was still like a blade to the back of her neck.

And why oh why didn't Soundwave leave? Whatever twisted reason he had for actually helping her make contact with the Autobot base was over now. Why didn't he leave?

She suddenly wondered just what the Decepticon would do if she turned and started making shoo-ing motions at him.

"Codes. Right. Yes."

She heard the soft ping sent her way, and locking onto that channel, she sent in her codes, designation, and anything else she thought they might be looking for. Codes for her past records of employment. Links to her work as an Autobot. She probably sent in too much information, to be honest, but it was her version of shoving an arm full of datapads at someone, in the hopes they would find what they were looking for quickly, that it wouldn't take too long.

After a moment, she heard the answering ping, letting her know the information had been received. Another nervous glance to Soundwave, then she turned and looked up at Bluestreak again, trusting him completely, hoping to make the transition out of that horrible situation as smooth as possible. She shifted from ped to ped slightly, the light of the day now faded into the navy sky of early evening.

[Soundwave]

Ah, an exchange of verification codes. Mostly reliable, and a good indicator all things considered. It could snitch much about an individual, and faking them was a pain that had a lot of hoops to snag oneself on. It was really easy to get caught with fake verification codes, and many have tried to do so from both sides of the drawn line. A good number have been turned away while others have had their lives clipped because something was just slightly wrong.

It was one thing to know the Autobots still relied on this time trusted method, it was another to find out what frequency the codes were being sent through. This was the real gem with this exchange, and where Soundwave could learn the most. If he could pick up what secure path that the data was being transmitted through... if he could find the correct hair thin parameter to access it himself, then he could potentially pick up on more information down the line that held more value.

If the two of them had undergone a conversation, something lasting longer while being more substantial and heftier than two swift passes back and forth, he may have been able to hone in upon it. Instead, unseen fingers raked through open air at nothing, unable to hook down within those brief flickers of opportunity. That alone was a bit frustrating, for he knew they were there, and he could almost feel it fluttering by. On second thought however, he was also willing to bet the channel may not be used again, on the slim chance he did manage to catch it.

Soundwave shifted his weight ever so slightly as time passed, his helm turning just enough to peer at the setting sun from the corner of his vision. A navy sky, the rim edged in red and orange that snaked at the far mountain ranges like distant fires. It was odd to think that within a couple miles, or half way across the state, the Autobots lay cowering.

Turning back to view the other two, it almost appeared as if he had not even looked away to begin with due to the minimal actions in play. He just had to wait honestly. Wait to see if there was anything more, wait to see if there were secondary precautions taken when integrating a newcomer. If he left now, assuming things were concluded, he could miss out on subtle details that could mean so much.

I mean... it wasn't like the truce was forever, and infiltration was a familiar game.

[Bluestreak]

The evening's dry silence drifted over the three mechs. Their cast shadows were creeping across the ground, washing the warm red stones into indigo. Nearby, the warm buzz of cicadas started to lift in the air, murmuring and mumbling from wherever they were clustering on the small trees. Bluestreak had eased forward a step, as if to put himself between the femme and the sharp angles of the Decepticon. He'd caught himself though, unsure as if that would be considered polite; Arcee probably would have had his head for it, she could take care of herself, thank you very much. She had a wicked left hook and wasn't afraid about showing you she could use it.

Not that she ever did, but still, ha, the threat was there and being who he was, he took her quite seriously, thank you. He'd seen her spar with folks and knock them flat on their skidplates, and he knew he wouldn't stand a chance.

His doors flicked, betraying his unease as no response came to his ping. It's only been less than a minute he told himself, only less than a minute, give them sometime, got to cross check and check databases and check and cross check again. One mistake and it's over, they know where our base is, I mean she seems legit, she seems like she wants out of here as much as I do.

A glance to her; the femme met his optics with her own, and he tried to offer up a little bit of a grin. One hand came up to rub at the back of his neck. He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Then he shrugged because he had to do something and when Bluestreak had to do something, that usually meant it came out in words.

"Well, at least it's a nice night," he said, because the weather was something safe to talk about while you were busy trying to see if everything around you was legit or you were going to be shot full of holes and the truce snapped like a twig.

"I mean, least it's not pouring down rain or you're in the middle of a snowstorm or anything like that. I remember this one time when we went to pick someone up and well, we had a snowstorm and then also everything was on fire. Not exactly what you want to walk into and of course to top it off the mech was a bit miffed we couldn't save the shuttle. Seriously miffed. So thank you for not doing that, I really appreciate that, you have no idea how much I appreciate that."

He did. Running around with a chemical extinguisher and hoping to goodness that nothing blew up on a crashed ship really gave you a taste for simple things like gee, do you have the right codes or not.

Bluestreak shook his head with an easy grin. "So yeah. You're already like a huge step up from all that mess, I-"

The quick burst of an answering ping cut him off. Perhaps thankfully. No doubt Soundwave was awfully tired of hearing someone prattle.

He cocked his head, obviously listening to that one short response.

"Come on," he said, his smile open and honest with relief. "All clear. We're out. They'll send us a bridge back where I was."

He didn't tell her that they were going to bridge somewhere remote, bridge out and another bridge would open up and let them back to base after Ratchet had done a quick once-over. No time for that, and he certainly didn't trust Soundwave to not be listening in like a very ugly cat doing his sneaky creeper thing in your fancy rosebushes.

Although he sure didn't want to turn his back to the mech; and as the bridge irised back open where he'd come in a few moments before, Bluestreak inclined his head.

"Go go, okay? I'm right behind you," he told her. "Promise."

[Javelin]

The femme kept her attention between Bluestreak and Soundwave, almost starting to tap her foot impatiently. Yes, she did throw a lot of info back through the link, but it couldn't be taking that long to just verify something, could it? It's not like she had ever been in any super secret organizations, or performed great feats of heroics that would require checking and cross checking. She had been an energon scout before the war, and an energon scout slash reconnaissance after the war.

Her nerves being a little taut, every motion, every facial expression, was vivid as a gunshot to her. She saw the step Bluestreak took, and understood the reasoning for it. Her face heated slightly with embarrassment, her field shimmied for a second. She really wasn't making a very good impression here. Within minutes of arriving, she managed to fall a short distance and possibly damage herself, get sorta-kinda lost, have to be rescued by a slagging Decepticon of all people, and now one of the Autobots, quite possibly high ranking for all she knew, was of the opinion she needed to be protected from being scared.

Frag.

Javelin took a quick inward vent, standing up a little straighter, forcing her field to settle and strengthen. She was not a terrified little spark, and she wouldn't act like one.

This would be so much easier if he had a face....

She met Bluestreak's optics again, looking for a sign she could read, something that said either, "Ho hum, this is a normal amount of time" or "Primus what is taking them so long?"

Then Bluestreak spoke again.

For a brief second, she thought maybe he was trying to tell her something in code. A nice night? Did that mean attack or...snowstorm? Fire? Were these things, codes, that she wasn't getting? Oh no, was he going to expect her to do something, know some form of movement or...

As the mech kept talking, though, Javelin began to realize he was just talking. About the weather. About another bot. About....putting out a fire in the middle of a snowstorm... and the bot being angry. Angry because the ship was damaged.

And he was thanking her. Thanking her for not crashing a ship in the middle of a blizzard, on fire, and expecting him to somehow save the ship-

Suddenly, startling even herself, Javelin barked a short laugh. It was so outrageous this was going on, she found it funny. Attempting to cut it off as soon as the humor bubbled up, as this was not really the time to start laughing, she in effect let out a rather awkward giggle-snort, and clapped a hand to her face, horrified.

Perfect! Well done! Why don't you just shoot yourself in the face and call it a day, Jav?

As if an answering prayer from Primus, the ground bridge irised open, interrupting any further conversation that might occur. The relief that infused her was almost palpable.

Nodding at his instructions, she turned, face still burning with embarrassment, and with one last look over her shoulder at the looming Decepticon, now almost invisible against the sky, stepped through to safety.

[Soundwave]

Soundwave did not miss the small step the silver mech took, and instantly recognized it for what it was. Trying to offer protection, trying to offer help, as if Soundwave was going to flip a switch and suddenly be a true threat after stalling all this time.

If he had wanted to instill harm upon one of them, he would have done it already, such frivolous games of stalling to catch off guard not really viable or needed to gain an upper hand here. If he wanted Javelin out of the picture, he would have struck her down without informing the Autobots she had ever arrived. She would have just vanished, and they would have been none the wiser much like Wheeljack upon his arrival. If he wanted Bluestreak harmed, he would have simply shot or grabbed him the instant he exited the ground bridge and been done with it. No fiddling around.

It did reveal some about them both however, more things to add to his notes on the elusive individual. It seemed that the sharpshooter was protective of others, willing to put himself between harm and someone else, to save them from a perceived threat. This selflessness was not an uncommon trait for Autobots, many holding it, but to see a sniper doing it was interesting. More often than not, sharpshooters tended to not enjoy being in the middle of the fray. They intervened from a distance, backing off when things go south where their talents could do real damage and protect from afar. To take a step forward...? It was interesting, and Soundwave's helm inclined some at the motion, turning fully to lock down onto the mismatched sniper's gaze.

The femme seemed embarrassed by this chivalrous act, either out of frustration at an implied need to be protected, or something else. To him, it spoke of meekness, passivity, if he were to sketch out a profile on her for the records; he would probably list her just as the typical follower that didn't hold that biting confidence to be in a team leader role. Of course, this was all speculation, just picking and plucking off of body language and things he could piece together from many years of observing from afar.

Then Bluestreak spoke.

And it was a lot.

Chattiness was not uncommon; Starscream could really run his mouth when he was trying to sweep up one of his trails in one way or another. That often had a point to it though, a goal to reach, while this? This didn't really. It made Soundwave pause some, unsure what to make of it at first. He habitually clutched onto what was said, looking for clues or things to exploit, making note that the Autobots had lost a shuttle which meant they still had salvaged parts likely... but really... it was all senseless filler to try to bridge the gap, a mindlessness to it that was unnatural to his fact driven lifestyle.

Really he was about as lost as Javelin for a moment there, the confusion shattering once she offered out a snorted laugh that jostled everything back in place.

A Ground Bridge opened then to save them, and it seemed they were going to take a swift departure from this encounter. Soundwave of course, did not move when this occurred, not only because he had no need to, but also to not send them into alarm for any reason. He simply watched, the dark outline of the Third in Command staring back at them as they retreated through the teal and green vortex.

Only once the Bridge closed, did Soundwave move, his helm turning abruptly back in the opposite way from the setting sun. With a hooked movement, and an eerily quiet transformation, he took wing and launched up into the sky with a roar of the Cybertronian engine, disappearing into the inky darkness.

[Bluestreak]

It was Javelin's laugh that seemed to reset Bluestreak from wherever his story was wandering off to. Which was probably good, he had a whole lot of crashing stories from his time on Earth. He could see why there was a lot of frustration and head-scratching by his fellow Autobots. Apparently, no one arriving here could pilot a ship all the way down to the planet.

Now, every time there was a ping at base on someone new or some discovered Autobot escape pod, nearly every Autobot took the opportunity to sidle off like they were preparing for a game of wheel-tag and they certainly didn't want to be chosen as it. Understandable again, there had been more than a few awkward moments while folks got their feet under themselves. It sometimes involved them yelling or shooting at you in their rather disorientated state. Sure, that wasn't the way you wanted introductions, but Bluestreak honestly didn't hold a grudge for that sort of thing. Was just how some mech's minds worked when they were scared to death that they had nearly died.

Besides, it was always someone new that needed help, and he wasn't about to not at least try to lend a friendly hand. If his job description turned to official meet and greet mech, he was totally delighted to have it. Certainly better than janitor or official waste sludge scrubber.

When the femme clapped her hand to her mouth, he merely gave her a sheepish look and another apologetic grin.

She was not interested in sticking around with faceless purple creepy Decepticon either. Obviously she was intelligent and quick thinking, because the speed at which she accepted and followed his directions to show Soundwave her heels was pretty impressive.

He on the other hand...

Bluestreak backed up. He covered Javelin's retreat one step at a time, keeping his focus on Soundwave. The gun was still in the clip over his shoulder, and his hands remained at his sides. However, he didn't take his optics off the Decepticon perched on that ridge of rock until he finally was swallowed up by the green portal.

A flicker of light, and then that green burst of unearthly luminescence became merely a memory.

Only the desert remained, as still and dark as Soundwave.

(ooc: Javelin, I'm going to say that they ported you somewhere else before base first, checked you out, and then took you home. Just to be safe. *grin* Other than that, yep, you checked out, you'll be assigned quarters and a good medical going over, and then you're free to romp around the Autobot base, just like you've been doing! Hooray!)