(Untitled)

[due_caution]

Red Alert had briefly considered tagging along with Kitten Prime and Company, if only to make sure Rodimus stayed safe and out of trouble, but thought better of it after contemplation. Right now, at a glance, who would even know that the small orange Terran cat is the Autobot Prime, unless someone draws undue attention to him

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[attair_al_fada]

Starscream has long since dismissed from his thoughts the day he got stuck on the input stage design of the Machine and turned to other activities to loosen whatever was stuck in his logic. Those activities had included bringing himself up to date on all current intelligence, designing the Aerialbots, and modifying the more mundane systems to allow himself unlimited future access. Metroplex's personal routines, he'd stayed far away from. Re-programming minds was Megatron's game, not his.

During a slow moment in the fabrication process, Starscream pulled up a low-security, secondary account on his workstation, one he'd assigned to an ostensibly human, though fictional, resident of Autobot City. Correction: he tried to. He scowled at the security message--password reset as per new security policy, please call IT to receive your new secure passcode.

Starscream scowls at the workstation. 'Harvey Mudd' just happens to own his anonymous Internet stuff--the access he doesn't want traced back to a former Decepticon Air Commander. He could set up another one, but if someone was on the job tightening security...

Was Red Alert back? His own access seemed as unrestricted as ever--or was it? Optics narrowed almost imperceptibly. Perhaps that was what he was meant to think. If so... what would the security chief deem too critical to let Starscream have access to even as bait?

Starscream tried to pull up Frostbite's Cobra files. Nothing. They simply weren't there. He smirked. So Red is back. Or Frostbite decided to secure her files. Let's see what happens if I give IT a call on Harvey Mudd's behalf.

Starcream is perfectly capable of adjusting his vocalizer if he wants to. It's almost as easy and less conspicious to run a vocalizer program on his workstation and plug it into a voice-over-IP server... Mr. Harvey Mudd, who has a genial, mid-range male voice, dials IT and asks for his password to be reset.

If this is human security, they won't know the difference. If it's Frostbite, she shouldn't have the kind of access to check what I'm doing on my workstation at the moment. But if it's Red, and he thinks to check what I'm doing as each user calls to get his account reset... I should learn something.

He really needed to set something like this up at the Undersea Base. If Red was back, keeping in touch with... certain parties was going to be a real pain.

It still amazed Starscream that Swindle had never figured out that the Skyhammer Serials were salable to the human market. Or how much advantage could be taken of the distinct lack of Earth-Cybertron copyright treaties....

[due_caution]

Most of the occasionally polite, but often urgent, strident, and at times downright rude inquiries to the security "tech support" are answered by a rather mundane and nominally human IT staff after being processed through a tracking algorithm. Some, however, trip the flags in Red Alert's algorithm and end up forwarded on to him.

Thus far, they have all been easily verified false alarms, although Red Alert is far too professional to fall into the trap of expecting them all to be such. Thus, when Mr. Harvey Mudd's account sends up a flag in conjunction with Starscream's current activities, Red Alert gives it the same high level of scrutiny that he's been giving the search for malicious code.

"Hm. Caught on, did we? Quite possible," he murmurs to himself. "Not as long as I'd hoped, but longer than I'd expected. Must have been distracted. Now... what to do with you?"

Rhetorical question, really, since Red Alert has planned for this eventuality and been ready for it. Were he actually deep in the system where he'd just been locked out of, Starscream would likely recognize the vocalizer program that has been plugged into the VOIP server that Red Alert answers Mr. Harvey Mudd with. It's a smart tactic, and limits bleed over of vocal patterns to let the AI running the response handle the actual syntax. IT Operator #438 politely complies with Mr. Mudd's request, her cheerful, "Our apologies for the inconvenience," followed by an almost bubbly little laugh.

Of course, the password that Mr. Mudd is supplied with automatically directs his access into another set of "corralled" and scratch-coded partitions that give him access to the public internet and the most basic and bare of low-security files, all of which are firmly and tightly locked away from the rest of the Autobot network. As for access back into the Autobot systems via the public internet, with the entire system on quarantine, the likelihood of being able to hack back into the system from such a primitive, if anonymous, source is severely restricted. With Red Alert on high alert for exactly that type of maneuver, Starscream will be staring at one very tough nut to crack.

Red Alert isn't foolish enough to think or even call it foolproof, but it's a start.

Now, to track down this mythical Mr. Harvey Mudd, just to make sure Starscream hasn't managed to set him a clever little trap. Or that Mr. Mudd hasn't simply managed to access exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time and tripped upon Red Alert's paranoia button... Ah, no. Unless Mr. Mudd from HR happens to be invisible, he doesn't exist.

Well, with his hand, in all likelihood well and truly tipped, Red Alert initiated the access reset for the rest of the Medbay and Medbay staff, including those two Autobot Seekers (which still boggled him a bit, to be honest). Then he drops his own little "love note" program in the partition that Starscream still has access to, executable if and when Starscream starts doing a little more creative tracking to test his own boundaries.

You need better source material, Starscream. "Angus MacGuyver" would have been more obscure than "Harvey Mudd". Might I recommend "Real Genius"? You'd make a lovely Lazlo Hollyfeld.

Sure. Poke at the bear with a pointy stick. What the hell. He's earned it.

[doc_ratchet]

It's happenstance that Ratchet needs to check some of the more precise measurements on the schematics a few minutes later, or else he might not have noticed the status change of his access for several hours. Maybe days. He stops dead in his tracks, however, when the following message pops up on his terminal:

Access to this account has been temporarily restricted while new security parameters are being enacted. Contact red Alert to receive your new access codes.

Oh for the love of little spanners. Why didn't anyone tell him Red Alert was on his way back? Ratchet sighs and opens up a familiar secured channel to a familiar security director.

// Cleaning house, Red? // he asks with amusement. // I need my access back, otherwise these mechs are never getting built. //

There's a brief pause before Red Alert's familiar and terse - which is also familiar - voice replies, // I wouldn't have to "clean house" if you hasn't been foolish enough to hand our entire system over to Starscream. //

// You locked the whole kit and caboodle down, didn't you? //

A long pause punctuates the silence. // You have no idea at all just how deeply entrenched he is. Was. Probably will be. And from your access point, // Red Alert replies with vague incredulity. // When I don't have my hands full trying to salvage this mess, I would very much like to hear just what in the name of Primus was said between you at whatever point that you have so easily accepted your killer into your fold. //

// Why, yes, I did know about all that, thanks for asking first, Red, // Ratchet snarks back.

// I know. I do actually have access to the security footage from the Medbay. Especially as the Medbay seems to have been a hotbed of insanity while I've been away. // There's note of quiet sadness in his voice as he continues. // It was good to flip that all on and see you there, same as it used to be... before. //

// Yanking my access won't keep me here forever, Red, // Ratchet replies, making light of it.

There's a sound of a long-suffering sigh before Red Alert replies, // I'm sending your codes now. Please keep in mind, however, that, regardless of whatever meeting of whatever minds you both may or may not possess, // and there's a hint of amusement in that, // he is still Starscream, and as such, a dangerous adversary. I don't care if it is a huge pain in your aft; I want your workstations locked down under enemy territory guidelines. Don't think I won't carry you back to the Nexus myself and lock you out. // Though the phrase conjures some rather amusing images, the tone of Red Alert's voice is deadly serious.

// Fair enough, // Ratchet agrees, his matching serious tone at odds with his flippant reply. True to Red Alert's word, a quick, heavily encrypted databurst heralds the arrival of his new passcodes. // Codes received. I need to get back to work, if you want him out of your hair anytime soon. //

// Funny, I was going to say the same thing, // Red Alert replies. There's a pregnant sort of pause as Red seems to consider adding something. When he finally continues, Ratchet gets the feeling it isn't what Red Alert had been pondering. // Unrestricted access for now, but I'll yank it again if he even so much as looks at your terminals funny. //

// Hey, it was his own design. You blame the funny looks on him. Ratchet out. //

[attair_al_fada]

Starscream is aware of the consternation around him; a slight adjustment to his optics, and he can see the message Photon is glaring on her work station. And nothing like that has happened to his working accounts.

Starscream smirks and waves at the "hidden" security camera. It's only a few minutes work to find out that most of his accounts have been put in a "jail", quarantined from the rest of the system--and to find Red's little note.

He grins and flashes a thumb's up at the hidden camera. So you're finally back, Red! Bet you were surprised by what you missed. Let's see, what to do, what to do... Pale blue fingers drum on the side of his console.

First things first. He firewalls his workstation thoroughly; no one is snooping around or tinkering with his local copies of the schematics. It wouldn't do for Red to decide in a fit of paranoia that the Aerialcron's plans or the plans for the Machine should be moved, altered, deleted or locked away from Starscream. And Red really didn't need to see the schematics for Starscream's own shell, either. Starscream already had a copy in his auxiliary data store, and Skyfire had one...

It was the work of seconds to load his own schematics into a data stick and then delete and wipe the files from his workstation, then the system backups.

"Ratchet!" Starscream tosses the datastick at the white Autobot medic. // For your reference, only, and whoever you think needs to know, when they need to know. I don't want those files in Autobot City's computers--and I really don't want them in Red Alert's hands! //

[doc_ratchet]

Ratchet eyes the rather anonymous data stick curiously for a moment before loading it in his own data stores just to see what it is. Realizing what the Decepticon has just given him, he turns a faintly surprised look on Starscream. Though he had had access to these schematics, and had relied on them heavily during Starscream's rebuild, he hadn't exactly memorized them. He's got a rough and very generalized working copy, the same sort of general file he keeps in his data stores of everyone he's ever worked on, but these detailed plans... could be a very potent weapon to be used against the former Air Commander. He's already privy to Starscream's biggest secret, but this is still a somewhat surprising amount of trust Starscream is placing in him.

// Let's hope you don't get yourself scrapped so badly again that anyone's going to need these to piece you back together then, eh? // Ratchet replies as he subspaces the datastick. He'll have to find someplace very safe to cache it before he returns to the past. Time enough for that, however, later, when he isn't preoccupied assisting with four scratch fabrications.

[attair_al_fada]

The corners of Starscream's mouth quirk up in just the faintest hint of a smile. Ratchet is surprised that Starscream trusts him? Why not? He's already trusted the Autobot medic to rebuild him pretty much from scratch--and Ratchet had one hell of a motive to do very unpleasant things to him when Starscream was so desperately vulnerable. Besides, Ratchet had trusted him.

Three years ago, he would have sneered at the Autobot medic as an utter fool for trusting the Decepticon Air Commander at all.

Amazing how much things could change in just a few short years.

// Let's hope not. //

[due_caution]

From his own workstation securely holed up in his office, Red Alert keeps track of the Medbay and its occupants both on the surveillance feed, and observing from the system itself to see, and hopefully head off, how Starscream reacts. He watches with narrowed optics as Starscream seems to note the others finding their accesses reset, that smirk and smartaft little wave managing to coax a faint hint of an answering smirk from Red Alert. He waits, poised to swoop in with his ready countermeasures to thwart whatever attempts Starscream makes in regaining his access.

That faint hint of smirk widens into an almost real grin as he shakes his head at the thumbs up. Ah, there Starscream goes, coding quickly...

Red Alert is surprised when the Decepticon doesn't seek to break out, but rather fortifies his firmly encapsulated little dead end corner of the system. A few cautious nibbles at the Seeker's firewalls are all Red Alert needs to tell that he won't be able to track Starscream's usage in there anymore without bringing some real crackerware to bear on it. That, of course, would probably open not only Starscream's firewalls, but also Red's, however. Best to leave that alone, since that area should be safely and quite thoroughly quarantined from the entirety of the system.

He is further confused, and none too little suspicious, however, when Starscream then seems to share some of those files he's protecting with Ratchet. Ratchet, who looks surprised to be given them, which only seems to amuse Starscream. Red Alert is starting to input the commands to lock Ratchet back out of the system again, fearing a secondary viral trojan, when Ratchet carefully stows the data stick away, and locks his terminal without accessing it further.

There is definitely something very strange going on between those two, and it's making Red Alert more than a little... wary. None of this is going how Red Alert had predicted it would, should Starscream gain the levels of access he's had. Incursions over only a single day when he'd had access for many days, no access into Metroplex's systems which were potentially more vulnerable by the very fact that slash and burn tactics could not be condoned for use in re-securing them, and the sheer level of assistance Starscream had been offering did not fit the patterns Red Alert was used to and expecting from the Seeker.

He stares at the surveillance footage with narrowed optics, trying to piece that all together with Ratchet's odd acceptance of Starscream.

He sighs and opens a secure channel, sending a brief ping of inquiry, inviting Starscream to... chat.

[attair_al_fada]

Starscream had turned back to working on Skydive's secondary fire control system when he received Red Alert's transmission. He finishes the cable run before he answers the Autobot security chief.

// Red Alert! I was wondering when you'd call. How are you these days? // Starscream says.

[due_caution]

// Overworked and underappreciated, like always. Not much changes, except you, I see. I'm curious to know how you've managed to con your way into a body again, since last I heard or saw of you, you were somewhat less... substantial. //

[attair_al_fada]

// Not much changes?? Red, have you been hiding under a rock for the last two years? // Starscream is all but sputtering over the radio. Physically, he's frowning slightly at the intricate circuitry he's having trouble concentrating on.

// Hold on, let me get this bit of wiring done--say, twenty minutes? You coming down to Medbay, or am I coming up there? //

[due_caution]

Red Alert is perversely pleased to have gotten a rise out of Starscream for once. He is grinning to himself as he answers.

// Oh, I'm sure I have more of you to ferret out of our systems yet. I'll be in my office. If you can't find it, just ask Duskwing. //

[attair_al_fada]

Starscream chuckles.

// So you've met our wayward Seeker, have you? I'm surprised you didn't blow a processor talking to him, but then you are used to the Dinobots, aren't you? Are you still in the same office you were three years ago? If so, I know where it is. //

[due_caution]

Red Alert's grin fades, his expression growing thoughtful. This is not going anything like what he expected. No posturing, no preening, and precious little arrogance. Something is definitely... different, here.

// Like I said, not much changes. Twenty minutes? //

[attair_al_fada]

// About that. // Starscream cuts the connection, and finishes connecting Skydive's secondary weapon systems to his secondary fire controller. Or rather, what will be Skydive's body when they get done with it.

True to his word, he turns up at the security chief's office about twenty minutes later--waving at a rather flabbergasted red Lamborghini Autobot as he walks by.

He leans against the wall, arms folded as if watching the passing scenery, an amused smirk on his face as he unobtrusively taps the door button behind him.

[due_caution]

The door isn't locked, and immediately slides open to admit Starscream. Having been keeping track of the Seeker's progress en route to his office, Red Alert is patiently waiting, still working away at his desk. Twenty minutes of dilligent searching hasn't turned up any more traces just yet, but Red's sure that they're there, somewhere.

He minimizes his work to keep prying red optics off of his progress and turns his attention to his visitor. Seeing Starscream "in the sheet metal", so to speak, for the first time in years fills him with vague unease, making him reconsider not having continued this conversation over the comm. To cover his unease, he makes a show of disengaging his alarm sensors which are stridently alerting him to the presence of a Deceptcon nearby.

"Starscream. That's a new look for you," he comments evenly by way of greeting.

[attair_al_fada]

Starscream grins and flexes his very shiny, semi-hexagonal wings. "Isn't it, though? F/A-22 rebuild--something I'd been planning on for a long time, but Megatron always had more important things for me to do than take the time out to get upgraded!" The edge of resentment and contempt in his tone is far from imaginary, but it quickly lightens again. "Credit the humans for designing such handsome jets."

He leans against wall and favors Red Alert with a look that is far more a smile than a smirk. "Did you ever figure out that fire departments don't drive Lamborghinis? Unless you're supposed to be the vehicle of a corrupt Italian fire chief...." He shakes his head. "But then, we have that Italian sports car racing team of ours, so I shouldn't talk. Megatron really should have put some geographic limits on Rumble and Frenzy when he sent them off to collect hulls for the Stunticons. They took it as an excuse for a European vacation."

The former Air Commander regards Red Alert steadily. He'd had an inexplicable soft spot for the Autobot security chief ever since that escapade with the Negivator. In his madness, Red Alert had believed that Prime and the others were plotting to scrap him, just as Starscream believed that Megatron was looking for an excuse to get rid of his Air Commander permanently. Red Alert's fear of those who should have been his allies and his determination not to be taken so easily had resonated with Starscream--and he'd hatched one of his more brilliant impromptu plots. It had almost succeeded, too.

Maybe that's why Starscream chose to save both their lives with a null-ray shot to Red's overheated CPU, rather than saving his own life with a laser shot to Red's lasercore--which would also have shut down his runaway CPU. Or maybe the proximity of an agitated Optimus Prime and several other powerful Autobots had something to do with it, too. Starscream wasn't stupid, in spite of the occasional claim to the contrary.

He had a clean, almost-certainly lethal shot on Red Alert during the Battle of Autobot City--and hadn't taken it. Not because of any hesitation at killing Autobots--after his 'house-cleaning' of the Autobot shuttle, no one could say that! If he were anyone else, Starscream might come up with reasons like "my enemy deserves better than a random shot out of left field in a chaotic battle", but the Air Commander didn't think like that. Dead enemies were dead enemies, and any way you got them dead was good. He still didn't understand why he hadn't taken the shot.

He'd given Red Alert a nasty reminder not to stand in the open when the Air Commander was strafing, though.

"It's been a while since I last came to Autobot City," Starscream finally says. "I never knew two years could be so long. But then, who knew four million years could be so short?"