(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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[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?"

[due_caution]

Perhaps it comes of being shot at by them far too many times, but Red Alert really has a hard time admiring the aesthetics of the sleek aerodynamics of a flier. The only reason at all that he bothers noting differences or changes in styling is to have a better idea what kind of capabilities said flier may possess - and how likely they are to pull a maneuver that could end in messy death or pain for his fellow Autobots or himself. Otherwise, he could really care less just how "handsome" a jet is, whether it's built by Cybertronians or humans.

They're all dangerous.

Starscream's observations about his own alt-mode, however, calls a tired, if wry, half-smile to his features. There had been too little time, and too few materials in those early days to rectify the situation when it had become clear just how miserably Teletraan-1 had failed in locating an inconspicuous alt mode for the Autobot chief of security. By the time there had been time and materials, not only had blending in for any of the Autobots become something of a moot point, interrupting his routine in dealing with certain agencies by going through all the process of gaining the humans' trust again in a new form would have been counter-productive.

He hates being that recognizable, though. Like Starscream's trademark paintjob, it makes him a target to be as well known as he is. Red Alert is no fool; he knows exactly how and why Starscream knows where his office is. Being that recognizable to the humans is no less as dangerous, and yet, he cannot seem to make any of the others understand that.

Thinking about that, however, only serves to remind Red Alert of that fateful battle, of the shot that should have been fatal, and, inexplicably... wasn't. He'd never understood why Starscream hadn't killed him then. Caught in the open, he'd stood his ground to give the others similarly caught a chance to get to cover, knowing with bedrock certainty that his last sight in life would be that of the Air Commander's guns flashing as he streaked in on Red's position. Someone would die on that pass; Red Alert just didn't want it to be anyone else if he could do something about it.

He'd been mad, his CPU badly malfunctioning the last time it occurred, otherwise he might have recognized the difference between the feel of a null-ray rather than a laser before everything went dark. As it had been, however, waking up in an improvised repair bay some time later had come as something of a shock. A shock only further compounded when he had assisted in locating the remains of the hijacked shuttle, and the Autobots inside. Starscream's ruthless efficiency, as quite thoroughly displayed on the flight recorders, had been in sharp contrast with Red Alert's continued existence, and he'd never understood why.

It still plagues him even now, holding recharge at bay for hours some nights as he finds himself wondering why him? Why not Prowl, or Ironhide, or Ratchet, or Brawn. He isn't fool enough to think that his dilligence in keeping at work on cleaning Starscream's "little gifts" out of their systems has nothing to do with having observed Ratchet in the Medbay surveillance footage. He isn't looking forward to his dreams when he finally gets around to letting himself rest.

And he is still no closer to understanding why. Why had the Air Commander spared his life, not just once, but on at least two occasions when he'd had ample opportunity and reason to kill him?

"What are you up to, Starscream?" he finally asks, trying to puzzle out this muted version of his adversary.

[attair_al_fada]

Starscream still leans against the wall, his arms casually folded--incidentally, making it hard for him to quickly bring his guns to bear. (Only apparently; Starscream has practice and experience at rapidly shooting mechs who assumed he was helpless in that or other positions.)

The former Air Commander tilts his dark head slightly. "What am I up to? Red, why should I be up to anything?" He unfolds his arms and spreads his hands in gesture of bafflement.