August 03, 2011, 2:48 AM
First Aid led the other two down the spiralling ramp deeper into the Autobot base than the surface level medical and housing complexes. "I've only been down here a few times," he says. "But the War Room is right here, and that's where Prowl said to meet him." First Aid taps a door control which takes a second before opening, obviously checking an ident ping.
Hot Spot looks around with an expression of complete and utter awe on his face. This place is amazing. "Wow," he whispers.
Even Streetwise looked impressed. He stood a little straighter, almost militant now.
First Aid glances around. "It is pretty imposing," he admits. "The last time I was down here, I was too focused on how worried I was about Lifeline to really pay much attention."
"It's all so... yeah," Hot Spot says. He straightens up, and tries to look as competent and tall as he can.
Prowl glances up calmly from his console, tapping out a last few glyphs before turning his full attention to the mechs entering the room. "First Aid, Hot Spot, Streetwise." He acknowledges, clasping his hands before him. "Have a seat."
"All of us, sir?" First Aid asks, a little surprised.
Streetwise tenses immediately. He looked at the other two and then notes "I was just walking Hot Spot to this location sir. I have no desire to join the Autobots at this time." he speaks, his voie even, but formal.
"Thank you, sir," Hot Spot says. He takes a seat, unable to resist looking around at the imposing Autobot insignia on the wall, and the impressive tech set into the table. He hopes First Aid will just follow suit - and Streetwise for that matter - although he's also a little surprised that it's all right to have his teammates with him.
"The only information that will be discussed here is the terms of Hot Spot's decision to join the Autobots." Prowl responds coolly. "With the relationship the three of you share, it is more than likely you will become aware of the details at some point in the future. Should any sensitive information you cannot be privvy to arise, I will ask you to leave." He turns his gaze to Streetwise, one doorwing twitching almost imperceptibly. "If you do not wish to remain here, Streetwise, I will have someone escort you out, and you are welcome to return to the public areas of Iacon."
Hot Spot glances up at Streetwise, hoping that he'll decide to stay.
First Aid pulls out a chair next to Hot Spot and sits down with a glance at Streetwise, then Hot Spot.
Streetwise's optics fade, then brighten again. Finally the blue-and-turqoise transformer steps in finally, moving to sit stiffly o the chair. But as the door closed behind him, he nonetheless seemed ill at lease.
Noting Streetwise's ill temperament, Prowl spoke again, tone carefully neutral. "Nothing is expected of you but silence, Streetwise. I do not intend to force the issue of your current allegiances." That said, he turned his focus to the blue and red mech. "You wish to join the Autobots, Hot Spot." It isn't a question, simply a statement of fact.
Streetwise's optics brighten again and he straightens, but he seemed a little bit miffed. However, he holds his silence, instead turning to focus on Hot Spot to hear his reply.
"Yes, sir," Hot Spot says. He sits straight, the picture of attentiveness. "I've resigned my position in Crystal City search and rescue, and have clearance from my former superiors."
First Aid folds his hands on the table and waits quietly.
Prowl nods sharply. "The files came through a short time ago." His gaze flicks down to the monitor before him for only a moment. "You come well-recommended." Again, it's phrased as a simple statement, nothing more, nothing less. "Why do you wish to join the Autobots?"
The comment about him coming well recommended is enough to make his smile impossible to erase. He tries to arrange his faceplates into a more serious expression, but wow, Prowl has just said he comes well recommended, that's /wonderful/. "I want to help make Cybertron safe again," he says, his processor whirring as he tries to remember all the many reasons he wants to join the Autobots. "My work in Crystal City was important, but it will all be for nothing if the Decepticons take over. I can't let that happen. I've come to believe that neutrality isn't the right path after all; with an enemy such as ours, inaction is as good as encouragement." He pauses, wondering if he might have gone a bit far. "I want to make a difference," he concludes. "I've thought it through, and I feel this is the right way for me to do that."
Streetwise listened quietly, watching Hot Spot. His irritation and nervousness faded a little bit, lips pursing thoughtfully as the other Protectobot made his explanations clear. He then glanced to First Aid, to see his own reaction.
First Aid catches Streetwise glance, and although he's not terribly obvious, there's a hint of a small, proud smile on his faceplates.
For a few moments Prowl only observes him silently, fingers interlaced as he seems to appraise the younger bot. Finally, for a moment so brief it may as well not have happened, the corner of his mouth twitches upward before his expression regains its practiced neutrality. "You have indeed thought this through." There's a hint of something that just might be approving in his tone.
"It's not something I take lightly, sir," Hot Spot says. He noticed the twitch of Prowl's faceplates, and isn't entirely sure what that signifies, but his instincts tell him it might be something like approval. He hopes so.
Streetwise's optics watch Prowl next, and he actually smirks a little bit. Not a smug one, but more of an approving one of his own as he leans back in the chair casually, starting to relax somewhat now despite being in front of someone who probably could incarcerate him right there.
First Aid is still quiet, but his approval of Hot Spot's declaration is clear. Prowl's a tougher mech to read than Ratchet, though.
"Nor is it something you should." The tactician agrees mildly, shifting slightly to enter something into the console in front of him. "Your records are all clean, your recommendations are shining, and you show determination and devotion to the cause. You are not a perceivable security risk and have passed all of Red Alert's screenings. I see no reason not to grant your request." The words are calm, but not quite as neutral as before, that quietly approving tone surfacing again as he returns his gaze to Hot Spot. "Welcome to the Autobots, Hot Spot."
"Nice work, Big Bro." murmers Streetwise, though audible for all to hear as he sat quietly in his chair, watching the back and forthness. He missed nothing though, his optics keenly flicking from Prowl to Hot Spot.
First Aid breaks into a real smile, no longer bothering to keep his expression appropriately sober.
That beaming smile returns full force. "Thank-you, sir!" Hot Spot says. He grins briefly at Streetwise before turning back to Prowl. His enthusiasm is obvious. "Are there forms I need to fill in, or should I to report straight to someone?"
Streetwise winks back at the grin as he folds his arms now in his seat, now starting to take in the rest of the room.
"I have already filled out all the necessary forms." Prowl responds smoothly, turning the majority of his attention back to the console he's seated at. "You will need to report to Ratchet for a baseline physical. After this, you are report to either Kup or Hammerstrike to recieve your initial briefing and barracks assignment. Do you have any questions, soldier?"
Hot Spot stands, looking every picture the new and totally inexperienced but very willing Autobot recruit. "No, sir." Even the thought of seeing Ratchet for a physical isn't enough to take the shine off his joy.
First Aid pushes his chair back and stands up as well.
Prowl nods almost absently as he enters a few more glyphs, pulling a small datachip from a slot near the keypad as he rises. Crossing the room in a few rapid steps, he holds the datachip out for Hot Spot to take. "This will rewire your transponder signal to an Autobot-only frequency. It will function as your proof of faction until you recieve your brand."
Streetwise stands as well, falling into step behind the others quietly now, hands behind his back.
Hot Spot accepts the datachip. "Thank-you, sir," he says. He can't quite believe it; he's finally where he wants to be. He slides the chip into the correct slot on his arm, and devotes a little of his processing power to observing it do its work.
Prowl flashes another one of those almost-nonexistent smiles. "First Aid, please escort Hot Spot to the repair bay for his physical examination." He pauses for a moment, optics flickering over the last mech in the room. "Streetwise." He acknowledges calmly, before inclining his head slightly to all three mechs. "All of you are dismissed."
A pause as his name was called, and Streetwise whirled around sharply to Prowl. He then nods in acknowledgment to Prowl again. No sense fanning embers after all. Then he quietly turns and walks out with the other two "Hey, gonna go meet up with Tiny at the Inn. We can go to the theatre after your examination and Grooves'. I can't stay much longer than that though!"
"You know where the repair bay is, I think?" First Aid says with a smile to Hot Spot. He offers Prowl a nod and a smile before returning his attention to Hot Spot. "Congratulations." He glances at Streetwise. "And you still didn't tell me where the theatre is. I didn't even know there /is/ one. Meet us at the medbay, okay? I want to get Ratchet to see if he can make those trans-scan files work for us?"
"I do," Hot Spot replies as he follows First Aid. He still can't stop smiling.
Prowl watches after them for a few moments before returning to his seat. Quietly pulling up the plans he'd been working on before the comm, he finally allows himself a small smile of his own.