Streetwise Joins The Autobots

October 13, 2011
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Optimus Prime Prowl Elita One Streetwise
(War Room, Iacon)
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Optimus Prime is seated at the long table in the war room, looking alternately at the console in front of him and a datapad held in one hand. A stack of other datapads is stacked to one side of the console, and he has obviously been reviewing reports for some time.
Finally he was settled and ready. Streetwise walks up to the door of the war room, staring at it. So much happened in this room. He was told he had brothers. He was told he was in danger. he was told the truth about his father. And now... well, he is not here to be told anything really, but to become something. After another moment, he lifted his hand to the panel, tapping it to request entry.
Prowl flicks a doorwing absently while he alters something on his own console, relieving a kinked hose in the joint and making a note to speak to Hoist during his next period of downtime. He looks up at the door with a small frown when the request pings his systems, glancing over at Optimus. "Were you expecting someone, sir?"
Elita One is yet another member of the 'paperwork' meeting, her own console and stack of datapads (albeit smaller) spread before her. She glances at Prowl when his doorwing catches her attention and she smiles faintly to herself before the door ping turns her attention that way. Almost in the same movement she closes several pages of data on her console.
"Not specifically, no. Ah. Enter." Optimus Prime says, pinging the door to see who is there, and then opening it. "Streetwise. What can we do for you this cycle?"
Stepping in, Streetwise stops short as he realizes PRowl and Elita One was there. Too late to turn back now. He waits until the door shut behind him before speaking "Optimus Prime, Prowl... Elita One. I was told I should present myself for formal enlistment into the Autobots. Sir." he notes, a pause before 'sir', as though still getting used to that. He folds his hands behind his back politely for now, standing at roughly an equal distance from the three of them.
Prowl watches Streetwise silently for a few moments before nodding, blanking out his console before giving the newly entered mech his full attention. Resting his forearms on the table and clasping his hands together, he leans forward slightly, glancing to Optimus for confirmation.
Elita One is openly interested in what the newly arrived mech has to say, and she proves it by putting her console and datapads in a neat stack out of the way and unconsciously mimicking Prowl's posture.
Streetwise's optics flick from Elita one, to Prowl, and back again quizzically. He shifts nervously for a moment at their mirrored poses.
Optimus Prime nods infintesimally to Prowl before focusing on Streetwise. "You've completed your business with your adopted father, then?" He asks, shuffling through the datapads to pick up one out of the bottom of the stack.
"My former father, yes." confirms STreetwise "I went down there with a friend, and we caught him outside the Lair - where I couldnt be caught up as easily. He... wasnt' happy." a pause. He decided not to mention how hard it was "But I'm free now, pretty much. I have no wishes to see him again for a good, long time. Tiny's gotten permission to work at the Inn too, so he's quite happily retired. Now its my turn to earn a retirement."
Optimus Prime 's optics narrow slightly as if he's smiling behind the mask. "Admirable as it is to want to provide for someone who has helped you, I would hope that Tiny plans to make his own way in the world. And-" his optics grow more grave- "Being an Autobot is not the safest occuptation you could choose, either."
Prowl subtly cocks an optic ridge at Streetwise's choice of words, refraining from pointing out that the youngling most likely has no idea of true work, much less retirement. He makes another mental note at the mention of Tiny, beginning to script a memo for better screening and documentation for workers in the civilian section.
"He actually always wanted to help run a bar. Eventually I think he'll buy out the old El Sleazo though. But that's just my guess." At the second comment, Streetwise straightens "I know. But this is... this is something I was quite literally BUILT to do. I used to read all the news and watch all the vids of the Autobots doing their thing, and well, i always daydreamed about..." a pause, he smiled sheepishly "About doing that too. I know its not safe. That its very dangerous. That people might... will die." he pauses "But I still want to do it. I'd do it anyways. Heck, I did it under Father too. I got into arguments all the time about it. I can't just sit back and let all... all that happen."
Elita One has a different reaction from Optimus and Prowl, frowning ever so slightly as she mentally replays Streetwise's words in an attempt to make sense of them. And his fractured explanation doesn't clear up anything for her, either.
Optimus Prime's optics narrow again, and this time his voice is not as gentle. "This isn't a game, Streetwise, or a daydream. People will get hurt, people will die, and built for a function or not, your ability to succeed as an Autobot without endangering your fellows depends on your dedication. This isn't something to do lightly. Have you /truly/ considered the costs of this?"
"Yes. I have. And I want in." states Streetwise, abruptly dropping the composure of before, now having gone entirely more formal, as though a literal switch had been thrown inside his CPU. "I can do it. I know I can." if he succeeded was another matter, but his voice held his determination, and a little point of desperation. Would they not let him follow in his brother's footsteps? he added "This is something we all agreed - My brothers and I - to do together. We need to be together, and if they can do it, so can I. You can count on me."
Elita One looks at Optimus and nods slightly in agreement with his more serious tone, mostly because Streetwise still seems to be making no sense to her.
"Whatever deal you may or may not have made with your brothers- only three of which are Autobots, one of multiple facts which contradict your earlier statement that you all made this decision together- does not matter." Prowl says sharply, taking control of the conversation for the moment. "You are not here to swear your loyalty to them, you are here to swear your loyalty to the Autobot cause. Once you take these oaths, that loyalty should be above all else, even that to your brothers. As for your self-professed capability..." He shifts back minutely, slightly narrowed optics still focused on Streetwise. "You have yet to demonstrate any sort of skills and lack any records to back up your claims. /We/ will judge the extent of your abilities."
"Then I'll take those oaths, to the Autobot Cause and command structure." continues Streetwise, without hesitation, turning to focus on Prowl now intently "I wont claim to be the most skilled at anything, but I'll show you what I /can/ do, and any training you want me to do, I'll learn it. Anything." he promises.
"It won't be easy work," Optimus Prime cautions. "And you have a great deal of learnign ahead of you."
Elita One pipes up finally. "Not the least of which is how to /correctly/ address your commanders." She doesn't sound stern though, more lightly teasing, if one interprets her tone correctly.
"I know. I saw how many datapadds First Aid has, even though he'll be in a different department." responds Streetwise, his voice having quietened a little bit. His hands were still folded behind his back, perfectly still, almost at attention, without any signs of childish twitching or nervousness as he turns his optics back to Prime. Then he looks to Elita one, optics flickering "... Ma'am, ... and of course, Sirs, or the appropriate rank to the person being spoken to." he replies to her after a moment of thought to reply to the question.
Optimus Prime nods, picking up the datapad he'd removed from the stack and offering it to the younger mech. "Your first assignment, then, is to research and summarize how to report, correctly, to any commanding officer- not just one of the three of us, but anyone to whom you are assigned. Report to Horizon tomorrow at the beginning of first shift. Your ration code, barracks assignment, and temporary transponder ID are in that datapad, along with a list of the rest of the tasks you'll need to complete this week." His optics crinkle very, very slightly. "Welcome to the Autobots, Streetwise."
Taking the pad, Streetwise nods as he turns it towards him. He shifted finally, straightening - witholding any other indication of excitement and also, releif. But he could not keep the smile off his face "Thank you sir... sirs, and ma'am." he notes, glancing from one to the other "Assignment accepted of course, and... thank you again." he notes, taking a step back, but then stopping, appropriately, for proper dismissal, tucking the pad into one hand.
"Dismissed, Autobot Streetwise. Go tell your brothers the good news." Optimus Prime says.
Stepping back, Streetwise offers a crisp salute, then turns and departs, his pace fast, not quite a run though as he exits the door, not quite grinning as he left.
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