[Fic] Chaos came with a bang, chapter 8
Rating: T
Universe: G1-AU
Pairings: Jazz/Prowl (secret), Ratchet/Wheeljack
Summary: Life in the Ark was often complicated, but things get out of control when Wheeljack and Ratchet are both seriously injured in an accident. Can First Aid save them? Will Sideswipe take on a new career? And in all the chaos will Bumblebee figure out Jazz's biggest secret?
~blah~ is comm-speak, blah is Cybertronian
Chapter 8: Making plans
Ironhide had been leaning on Prime's desk but he straightened as he heard the door chime.
He had just finished telling Optimus about Sideswipe's dramatic entrance and announcement at the rec room, how there had been a moment of confusion as the tall warrior had suddenly collapsed and Sunstreaker had pointed out that it was just energon depletion. With a bit of coaxing they had gotten half a cube into the red twin and he had roused again long enough to repeat his news and start railing at them all for partying while he had been working. A very unusual situation. Not that many had stuck around to listen to him; now that the news had arrived most of the mechs had retired to their own quarters and Ironhide intended to do much the same but had come here first.
The door opened and First Aid peering inside.
"Uh, excuse me, sir...?"
"Come in, First Aid." Optimus instructed warmly. "I hear congratulations are in order."
The medic frowned in brief confusion, then smiled.
"Sideswipe said something, did he? I didn't think he'd make it any further than his recharge berth."
"He didn't." Ironhide shrugged. "'Cept that's not where he headed. But it's good to hear it's true. I didn't know if we'd ever see either of them again, the mess they were in."
First Aid's smile flickered.
"Yes, well... there are still issues. They're both stable, and I'll bring Wheeljack back online tomorrow. But there's still a lot of damage that I'm not sure how to fix. And Ratchet... I don't know how long it'll be before he's back online. There's so much damage, and if I do the wrong thing we might lose him completely. It could be a long time..."
"You're doing your best." Optimus encouraged him. "The first miracle is that you managed to save them at all. This next bit you can take your time over, so do. Get some rest, do some research, and take it slowly."
First Aid nodded slowly, taking that in, and Ironhide decided that he would escort the other mech back to his recharge berth so he did not just collapse in the corridor. But before he could even suggest it, the door opened again; this time to admit Prowl and Jazz. Ironhide nearly groaned. Earlier those two had been bickering enough to try the patience of Primus himself, not that that was all that unusual. They had always had their arguments, ever since Prowl had boarded the Ark, but since arriving on Earth it had been much more frequent. Probably due to being in such close proximity. In any case, for them to have made up so quickly it meant that they were both set on some sort of action, and coming here meant they wanted Prime's approval.
After the day they'd just had, Ironhide didn't care if it was the best plan ever conceived, he just wanted to get some charge. He considered the distance between himself and the door. No. He would have to push past them to get to it. He was stuck.
"There has been news, sir?" Prowl asked.
"First Aid was just reporting that they are both stable. May I assume you've calmed down?"
First Aid gaped, but Prowl was unruffled.
"I have given the current situation further consideration and decided that there are other priorities to be focused on at this time. In our current situation it is vital that as many of us as possible are focused on our regular duties so that we might keep ahead of whatever the Decepticons are up to. Moreover, Jazz has approached me with a plan which I believe we should implement. Unless Ratchet is already back online?"
"No, not for some time yet." Optimus responded when it became clear that First Aid was not going to speak. "What plan?"
"Aid needs access to Ratchet's notes." Jazz said bluntly, crossing his arms. "It's the only way he'll be able to access the sort of information he'll need to help'em both. An' to look after the rest of us while Ratchet's offline."
Prime inclined his head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and Ironhide frowned.
"Now wait a slagging minute, those notes have information that was meant to stay hidden. I know for a fact that Ratchet encrypts his notes and that's not just for fun."
"You're right." Prowl nodded gravely. "There is information there that should not be disseminated. And likely information that our current acting-CMO is not yet prepared for even if Ratchet had been lost today. Prime's override codes would give him full access, but there is still the encryption to manage, and only Ratchet himself could say whether the information there is appropriate or relevant."
"What do you propose?" Optimus asked.
"I'll hack my own data." Jazz spoke up. "I'm not fluent, but I can read enough medi-script to pick up what it's talking about. Then I'll hack Prowl's - he's given his permission - and compare the type of entries. If there's a pattern, we should be able t'figure out if it's gonna do any good t'start gettin' into Jack's. Prowl thinks it'd be good to have a third set o'data t'look at, so wit' Aid's permission I'll hack his too. Since the Protectobots barely came aboard before we crashed there won't be much there, but it'll give a good idea of the structure of the entries. Once we're done, I'll get inta what look like the appropriate parts of Jack's file, lookin' for whatever First Aid says he needs, an' hopefully not find too much he wouldn't want me t'see. Then, with Jack's help, we'll look into Ratchet's."
"We can not be sure that Ratchet will have made any notes on himself," Prowl cautioned, "but it seems likely that he would at least have recorded the basics for situations such as this."
Ironhide glanced at Optimus. He knew there were things that Ratchet could have recorded about himself which he would not want Wheeljack to see, given their current sparksharing relationship. If Ratchet wanted to conceal the truth about the damage done to his spark all those vorns ago, it was his choice, and it was not really something Jazz should know about, either.
On the other hand, if it would save the medic's life, was it not worth a few old secrets being spilt?
"You are volunteering to let Jazz view your file?" Optimus asked Prowl.
The tactician nodded readily.
"We have worked together for many years; there is little that can be in my file that he has not already discovered. It is better to have three files for comparison to reduce the margin for error, and Jazz is discreet."
"Compliments so soon after you were wanting to take his head off?" Ironhide checked, though it was nothing he had not seen before.
Prowl looked at him coolly.
"I intended no physical violence. And my respect for Jazz's professionalism within the scope of his own duties has nothing to do with my ongoing irritation for his behaviour outside of that context."
"And if First Aid declines?" Prime asked, pulling the conversation back onto track.
"Then we can either find a third volunteer, or take the chance that the structure of the two sample files will not mislead us."
Optimus nodded thoughtfully, then looked around at all of them.
"This remains within this room. No-one else is to know this is being considered. Jazz, I will give you my override which you will not share with anyone. You have my permission to search for and decrypt your own files, and Prowl's, but no more than that. If there is no obvious pattern by that point, we will reconsider before you go any further. Is that clear?"
"Crystal." Jazz nodded, giving a lazy salute.
"What?" Prowl frowned, having missed the gesture and only heard the word spoken in an unfamiliar context.
Jazz sighed, draping an arm over Prowl's shoulder.
"We really gotta have that chat about slang, Prowl m'man. But right now, lets talk medical. Wanna tell me what I'm gonna find before I embarrass ya?"
Optimus frowned after them but did not protest, and Ironhide noticed that First Aid was looking even more unstable.
"Prime, if you'll excuse us, I'll see First Aid back to his quarters then head to my own. Come on, kid, lets get you to where you can rest."
"Oh you have gotta be slagging kidding me." Windcharger huffed. "Is this roster some kind of joke?"
Curious, Bumblebee accessed the duty server. Sure enough, the roster had been posted and it was far from standard. Instead of a three groon break now, he was assigned to maintenance with... Sunstreaker?
"Who wrote this?" Gears grumbled. "Must be a prank."
"Who, though?" Cliffjumper asked.
"Hey, I'm not complaining." Beachcomber shrugged. "It'll be good to do something different for once."
"You're down for city patrol."
"Sounds fine to me."
"With Perceptor?"
The geologist paused, then nodded again although he now looked less comfortable.
"Well I don't spend much time talking to him, it'll be good to catch up."
"But city patrol needs two mobile mechs. You'll have to do twice the distance."
"Could be worse." Warpath muttered morosely.
Surprised at his tone, Bumblebee looked up what the other minibot had been assigned to: official guide for some visiting humans, along with Powerglide and Sludge? Yes, he was right. It could definitely be worse.
Pinpoint shifted uneasily as the Prowl continued to stare at the screen.
"Sir?"
"When I asked you to revise the rosters taking into account the events of yesterday and the fact that not everyone will be available for full duties, this is not quite what I had expected. Can you explain why you have been quite so creative?"
"Well, sir, you've said many times that it's important to pair mechs up in different ways to understand who works well together, and since I'm still figuring that out, and since there was a battle yesterday so there probably won't be one today, I thought it might be a good opportunity."
Prowl nodded absently.
"I see. You have certainly attempted combinations I had not considered. Still, I think perhaps I will need to be a little more specific in my instructions the next time I leave you to do the roster."
"Something's wrong?"
Prowl looked at him sharply.
"You don't see anything wrong with this?"
"Well you did say you wanted all the main fighters restricted to base in case of another attack, so I was limited by..."
Prowl waved a hand towards the screen.
"This is not just limited, it..."
He broke off abruptly at the chime of an incoming message.
"Go ahead."
"Prowl - we've got a fluid leak down near one of the generators that powers the security office and Red won't let us work on it."
"Alright, Grapple, I'm on my way. Data burst me the details." Prowl refocused on Pinpoint. "No more jokes. Change the roster to a more rational fit with mecha's skillsets; we will worry about fairly rotating tasks some other day when there is not quite so much going on. And get started on that research I assigned you - I'll be back to check when I have time."
"You've finished already?" a familiar voice preceded the mech coming through the door. "Red Alert will be displeased that you found it so simple. He's already rather agitated."
Prowl was prompt as always, arriving shortly after the comm call in spite of the fact that Pinpoint had claimed not to know precisely where he was. Briefly Jazz wondered how his mate managed to get anything at all done, given the amount of time he spent running around the base.
"Course he is." he responded. "He's been away for the first time since we crashed here an' all this happens."
"Indeed." Prowl nodded, moving to stand beside him. "So. Success?"
"Yeah. There wasn't a lot to hack through. The encryption's really basic, I think Hatchet might've designed it himself."
"That is disturbing." Prowl frowned. "We cannot have classified medical data being easily accessible. Although, this appears fully encrypted to me."
"It is." Jazz agreed. "An' I didn't say it ain't secure: it's still under two levels of security includin' Red's own, plus bein' written in medi-script which would stop most mechs from reading it. But once you're in, you've got two options t'get to the text. You either gotta have Ratchet's own access codes to open ev'rythin' up, or use a trigger query."
"Which would be?"
"Any query that identifies data as a relevance hit of 95 percent or better. You can see the encrypted files, but you can't read'em without the right codes unless you ask the right questions. Fire that up and run the query I've got loaded."
He listened to the quiet tapping on the keyboard, noting the short pause as his partner took in the scenario he had programmed: one of Jazz's spark casing being crushed in a battle. Prowl made no comment, but Jazz wrapped his arms around himself and continued to pace.
Ratchet had never really approved of their contingency plans for continuing to hide their bond should one of them die, and Jazz had always been rather reassured by that since he was not always sure he approved of it himself. He understood that it would be a devastating blow to the Autobots to lose both of them, and thus if one perished the other must at least try to struggle on. Prowl was committed to making the attempt if it came to it, but Jazz had always doubted whether he would cope. And now, after reading Ratchet's notes on the process planned, he was not even sure he wanted Prowl surviving him. Not if it had to be done this way.
He was already considering carrying some kind of suicide device with him so that he could detonate it the moment he felt Prowl fall, regardless of how much Prime needed him, but should he prepare the same for his lover? Or was Prowl already aware of Ratchet's plans?
There was another burst of rapid tapping, then the terminal was powered down and Prowl looked over at him.
"So. The data we wish to continue to conceal should remain untouched, then, since there is no reason for any of the relevant queries to trigger it."
Jazz nodded grimly.
"This time. But if Ratchet doesn't make it, we're gonna have to figure out what to do about Aid. Do we tell him? Or just let him come across it and hope he doesn't make the connection?"
"It's far too early to make that decision. What matters is that our position will not be compromised by his access to the data he requires." He paused. "You're upset by this."
Jazz gave him a sour smile.
"How observant of you. Gee, it couldn't possibly be from reading through the gory details of the torture we've got planned for our future."
"Jazz..."
"Actually, you know I think it'd be better to just kill ourselves now and get it over with, at least that way there's no longer a problem, right?"
"This is neither the time or place to go back over this." Prowl reminded him.
"No of course not. That would be... hmm, when exactly do we discuss things like this again?"
Prowl was losing patience, he could tell, but he could not deny himself one last bitter comment.
"I've been through some nasty slag in my career, but this rates right up there with some o'the Cons' best torture plans. What kind of processor can even think of things like that, let alone plan to use'em on another mech?"
"The content was that disturbing?" a new voice asked, making him turn in surprise.
"Prime!"
Had their commander arrived in time to hear his sarcastic retort? Or more? He would have to assume the worst until he could be sure and get himself back under control before he made it worse; it was an unforgivable mistake that he had raised the topic of their bond even obliquely when the door was unlocked.
"Jazz found it so," Prowl was nodding, entirely professional, "but he also began to tell me about a trigger for the encryption which should resolve our issues."
Optimus looked at him curiously and Jazz pulled himself together.
"Yeah, there're protocols in the encryption set to decrypt automatically if the query entered is related to the content. If it doesn't decrypt, it's because it's unrelated. So if Ratchet knows anything about his own CPU wiring and encrypted it, it'll become available when the query is entered, then re-encrypt when the query is cleared. I just had Prowl try it out himself."
"And it worked?" Prime asked.
Prowl nodded, looking thoughtful.
"Indeed. In fact, I would consider it a security hazard if not for the fact that it is hidden behind the main access locks. It is perhaps best that this remain a carefully guarded secret."
Prime nodded.
"Agreed. Please inform First Aid that he is to formulate some specific queries he wants answers to, then bring him to meet us in my office. And later I want to discuss crew discipline: Ratchet and Wheeljack should never have been left unnoticed for so long. Jazz - I would speak with you a moment."
Prowl bowed shortly and left, and Jazz looked at his commander curiously.
"Problem, boss?"
"Two. Firstly - I need to know if you're okay."
"Me?"
"Prowl may not know what you went through at the start of the war, and Primus knows I hardly do myself, but Ratchet did a lot of work undoing it, didn't he?"
Jazz winced openly, relieved to have found a good excuse for whatever Optimus might have heard.
"Yeah. He did. But it's okay, he... he wasn't explicit in much of it. Wouldn't wanna be the mech who gets to analyse it, though."
Prime nodded.
"I have already decided that First Aid's use of the database is to be closely monitored to ensure he accesses only the files he absolutely needs. Many of us have things in our past that a young mind may not easily comprehend, and we need him functioning and focused. That includes Ratchet himself, though whether he would note his own past crises in such a database is debatable. Nevertheless, even if this goes poorly and it is discovered that it is already too late to save him, I have no intention of giving First Aid unrestricted access to this information. I would like you to start considering how we could build firewalls within the database to adequately restrict him. Now as to the second matter: Mirage is not to leave this base without my explicit permission."
Jazz thought he managed to hide his surprise successfully.
"Mirage? Is he injured?"
"I understand you have been plotting something. Whatever it is, I'm stopping it now until we've gotten this current situation sorted out. Firs Aid does not need any more injured to deal with."
"Aw boss, plotting's a bit too strong don't ya think?"
"What that means," he continued implacably, "is that I want Mirage, Bumblebee and Hound where I can find them at any given moment. Rearrange the roster so that they are on duty in the command centre at regular intervals; tell Bumblebee he is not to go visiting Spike for the next few days; and make sure none of them are on the outer patrols where they might accidentally get lost or go off track. When they are on patrol, they are to be matched with suitable partners who will understand the necessity of following orders and not be swayed into checking out some hunch that any of them might have. And as an extra precaution, I have asked Silverbolt and Hot Spot to have their teams keep an eye on every Autobot who leaves the Ark, to ensure everyone is safe. Is that clear?"
Jazz knew when a battle was lost and smiled reassuringly.
"Course, boss. No worries."
"Good. Now come, lets hear what First Aid has to say about Wheeljack."
Universe: G1-AU
Pairings: Jazz/Prowl (secret), Ratchet/Wheeljack
Summary: Life in the Ark was often complicated, but things get out of control when Wheeljack and Ratchet are both seriously injured in an accident. Can First Aid save them? Will Sideswipe take on a new career? And in all the chaos will Bumblebee figure out Jazz's biggest secret?
~blah~ is comm-speak, blah is Cybertronian
Chapter 8: Making plans
Ironhide had been leaning on Prime's desk but he straightened as he heard the door chime.
He had just finished telling Optimus about Sideswipe's dramatic entrance and announcement at the rec room, how there had been a moment of confusion as the tall warrior had suddenly collapsed and Sunstreaker had pointed out that it was just energon depletion. With a bit of coaxing they had gotten half a cube into the red twin and he had roused again long enough to repeat his news and start railing at them all for partying while he had been working. A very unusual situation. Not that many had stuck around to listen to him; now that the news had arrived most of the mechs had retired to their own quarters and Ironhide intended to do much the same but had come here first.
The door opened and First Aid peering inside.
"Uh, excuse me, sir...?"
"Come in, First Aid." Optimus instructed warmly. "I hear congratulations are in order."
The medic frowned in brief confusion, then smiled.
"Sideswipe said something, did he? I didn't think he'd make it any further than his recharge berth."
"He didn't." Ironhide shrugged. "'Cept that's not where he headed. But it's good to hear it's true. I didn't know if we'd ever see either of them again, the mess they were in."
First Aid's smile flickered.
"Yes, well... there are still issues. They're both stable, and I'll bring Wheeljack back online tomorrow. But there's still a lot of damage that I'm not sure how to fix. And Ratchet... I don't know how long it'll be before he's back online. There's so much damage, and if I do the wrong thing we might lose him completely. It could be a long time..."
"You're doing your best." Optimus encouraged him. "The first miracle is that you managed to save them at all. This next bit you can take your time over, so do. Get some rest, do some research, and take it slowly."
First Aid nodded slowly, taking that in, and Ironhide decided that he would escort the other mech back to his recharge berth so he did not just collapse in the corridor. But before he could even suggest it, the door opened again; this time to admit Prowl and Jazz. Ironhide nearly groaned. Earlier those two had been bickering enough to try the patience of Primus himself, not that that was all that unusual. They had always had their arguments, ever since Prowl had boarded the Ark, but since arriving on Earth it had been much more frequent. Probably due to being in such close proximity. In any case, for them to have made up so quickly it meant that they were both set on some sort of action, and coming here meant they wanted Prime's approval.
After the day they'd just had, Ironhide didn't care if it was the best plan ever conceived, he just wanted to get some charge. He considered the distance between himself and the door. No. He would have to push past them to get to it. He was stuck.
"There has been news, sir?" Prowl asked.
"First Aid was just reporting that they are both stable. May I assume you've calmed down?"
First Aid gaped, but Prowl was unruffled.
"I have given the current situation further consideration and decided that there are other priorities to be focused on at this time. In our current situation it is vital that as many of us as possible are focused on our regular duties so that we might keep ahead of whatever the Decepticons are up to. Moreover, Jazz has approached me with a plan which I believe we should implement. Unless Ratchet is already back online?"
"No, not for some time yet." Optimus responded when it became clear that First Aid was not going to speak. "What plan?"
"Aid needs access to Ratchet's notes." Jazz said bluntly, crossing his arms. "It's the only way he'll be able to access the sort of information he'll need to help'em both. An' to look after the rest of us while Ratchet's offline."
Prime inclined his head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and Ironhide frowned.
"Now wait a slagging minute, those notes have information that was meant to stay hidden. I know for a fact that Ratchet encrypts his notes and that's not just for fun."
"You're right." Prowl nodded gravely. "There is information there that should not be disseminated. And likely information that our current acting-CMO is not yet prepared for even if Ratchet had been lost today. Prime's override codes would give him full access, but there is still the encryption to manage, and only Ratchet himself could say whether the information there is appropriate or relevant."
"What do you propose?" Optimus asked.
"I'll hack my own data." Jazz spoke up. "I'm not fluent, but I can read enough medi-script to pick up what it's talking about. Then I'll hack Prowl's - he's given his permission - and compare the type of entries. If there's a pattern, we should be able t'figure out if it's gonna do any good t'start gettin' into Jack's. Prowl thinks it'd be good to have a third set o'data t'look at, so wit' Aid's permission I'll hack his too. Since the Protectobots barely came aboard before we crashed there won't be much there, but it'll give a good idea of the structure of the entries. Once we're done, I'll get inta what look like the appropriate parts of Jack's file, lookin' for whatever First Aid says he needs, an' hopefully not find too much he wouldn't want me t'see. Then, with Jack's help, we'll look into Ratchet's."
"We can not be sure that Ratchet will have made any notes on himself," Prowl cautioned, "but it seems likely that he would at least have recorded the basics for situations such as this."
Ironhide glanced at Optimus. He knew there were things that Ratchet could have recorded about himself which he would not want Wheeljack to see, given their current sparksharing relationship. If Ratchet wanted to conceal the truth about the damage done to his spark all those vorns ago, it was his choice, and it was not really something Jazz should know about, either.
On the other hand, if it would save the medic's life, was it not worth a few old secrets being spilt?
"You are volunteering to let Jazz view your file?" Optimus asked Prowl.
The tactician nodded readily.
"We have worked together for many years; there is little that can be in my file that he has not already discovered. It is better to have three files for comparison to reduce the margin for error, and Jazz is discreet."
"Compliments so soon after you were wanting to take his head off?" Ironhide checked, though it was nothing he had not seen before.
Prowl looked at him coolly.
"I intended no physical violence. And my respect for Jazz's professionalism within the scope of his own duties has nothing to do with my ongoing irritation for his behaviour outside of that context."
"And if First Aid declines?" Prime asked, pulling the conversation back onto track.
"Then we can either find a third volunteer, or take the chance that the structure of the two sample files will not mislead us."
Optimus nodded thoughtfully, then looked around at all of them.
"This remains within this room. No-one else is to know this is being considered. Jazz, I will give you my override which you will not share with anyone. You have my permission to search for and decrypt your own files, and Prowl's, but no more than that. If there is no obvious pattern by that point, we will reconsider before you go any further. Is that clear?"
"Crystal." Jazz nodded, giving a lazy salute.
"What?" Prowl frowned, having missed the gesture and only heard the word spoken in an unfamiliar context.
Jazz sighed, draping an arm over Prowl's shoulder.
"We really gotta have that chat about slang, Prowl m'man. But right now, lets talk medical. Wanna tell me what I'm gonna find before I embarrass ya?"
Optimus frowned after them but did not protest, and Ironhide noticed that First Aid was looking even more unstable.
"Prime, if you'll excuse us, I'll see First Aid back to his quarters then head to my own. Come on, kid, lets get you to where you can rest."
"Oh you have gotta be slagging kidding me." Windcharger huffed. "Is this roster some kind of joke?"
Curious, Bumblebee accessed the duty server. Sure enough, the roster had been posted and it was far from standard. Instead of a three groon break now, he was assigned to maintenance with... Sunstreaker?
"Who wrote this?" Gears grumbled. "Must be a prank."
"Who, though?" Cliffjumper asked.
"Hey, I'm not complaining." Beachcomber shrugged. "It'll be good to do something different for once."
"You're down for city patrol."
"Sounds fine to me."
"With Perceptor?"
The geologist paused, then nodded again although he now looked less comfortable.
"Well I don't spend much time talking to him, it'll be good to catch up."
"But city patrol needs two mobile mechs. You'll have to do twice the distance."
"Could be worse." Warpath muttered morosely.
Surprised at his tone, Bumblebee looked up what the other minibot had been assigned to: official guide for some visiting humans, along with Powerglide and Sludge? Yes, he was right. It could definitely be worse.
Pinpoint shifted uneasily as the Prowl continued to stare at the screen.
"Sir?"
"When I asked you to revise the rosters taking into account the events of yesterday and the fact that not everyone will be available for full duties, this is not quite what I had expected. Can you explain why you have been quite so creative?"
"Well, sir, you've said many times that it's important to pair mechs up in different ways to understand who works well together, and since I'm still figuring that out, and since there was a battle yesterday so there probably won't be one today, I thought it might be a good opportunity."
Prowl nodded absently.
"I see. You have certainly attempted combinations I had not considered. Still, I think perhaps I will need to be a little more specific in my instructions the next time I leave you to do the roster."
"Something's wrong?"
Prowl looked at him sharply.
"You don't see anything wrong with this?"
"Well you did say you wanted all the main fighters restricted to base in case of another attack, so I was limited by..."
Prowl waved a hand towards the screen.
"This is not just limited, it..."
He broke off abruptly at the chime of an incoming message.
"Go ahead."
"Prowl - we've got a fluid leak down near one of the generators that powers the security office and Red won't let us work on it."
"Alright, Grapple, I'm on my way. Data burst me the details." Prowl refocused on Pinpoint. "No more jokes. Change the roster to a more rational fit with mecha's skillsets; we will worry about fairly rotating tasks some other day when there is not quite so much going on. And get started on that research I assigned you - I'll be back to check when I have time."
"You've finished already?" a familiar voice preceded the mech coming through the door. "Red Alert will be displeased that you found it so simple. He's already rather agitated."
Prowl was prompt as always, arriving shortly after the comm call in spite of the fact that Pinpoint had claimed not to know precisely where he was. Briefly Jazz wondered how his mate managed to get anything at all done, given the amount of time he spent running around the base.
"Course he is." he responded. "He's been away for the first time since we crashed here an' all this happens."
"Indeed." Prowl nodded, moving to stand beside him. "So. Success?"
"Yeah. There wasn't a lot to hack through. The encryption's really basic, I think Hatchet might've designed it himself."
"That is disturbing." Prowl frowned. "We cannot have classified medical data being easily accessible. Although, this appears fully encrypted to me."
"It is." Jazz agreed. "An' I didn't say it ain't secure: it's still under two levels of security includin' Red's own, plus bein' written in medi-script which would stop most mechs from reading it. But once you're in, you've got two options t'get to the text. You either gotta have Ratchet's own access codes to open ev'rythin' up, or use a trigger query."
"Which would be?"
"Any query that identifies data as a relevance hit of 95 percent or better. You can see the encrypted files, but you can't read'em without the right codes unless you ask the right questions. Fire that up and run the query I've got loaded."
He listened to the quiet tapping on the keyboard, noting the short pause as his partner took in the scenario he had programmed: one of Jazz's spark casing being crushed in a battle. Prowl made no comment, but Jazz wrapped his arms around himself and continued to pace.
Ratchet had never really approved of their contingency plans for continuing to hide their bond should one of them die, and Jazz had always been rather reassured by that since he was not always sure he approved of it himself. He understood that it would be a devastating blow to the Autobots to lose both of them, and thus if one perished the other must at least try to struggle on. Prowl was committed to making the attempt if it came to it, but Jazz had always doubted whether he would cope. And now, after reading Ratchet's notes on the process planned, he was not even sure he wanted Prowl surviving him. Not if it had to be done this way.
He was already considering carrying some kind of suicide device with him so that he could detonate it the moment he felt Prowl fall, regardless of how much Prime needed him, but should he prepare the same for his lover? Or was Prowl already aware of Ratchet's plans?
There was another burst of rapid tapping, then the terminal was powered down and Prowl looked over at him.
"So. The data we wish to continue to conceal should remain untouched, then, since there is no reason for any of the relevant queries to trigger it."
Jazz nodded grimly.
"This time. But if Ratchet doesn't make it, we're gonna have to figure out what to do about Aid. Do we tell him? Or just let him come across it and hope he doesn't make the connection?"
"It's far too early to make that decision. What matters is that our position will not be compromised by his access to the data he requires." He paused. "You're upset by this."
Jazz gave him a sour smile.
"How observant of you. Gee, it couldn't possibly be from reading through the gory details of the torture we've got planned for our future."
"Jazz..."
"Actually, you know I think it'd be better to just kill ourselves now and get it over with, at least that way there's no longer a problem, right?"
"This is neither the time or place to go back over this." Prowl reminded him.
"No of course not. That would be... hmm, when exactly do we discuss things like this again?"
Prowl was losing patience, he could tell, but he could not deny himself one last bitter comment.
"I've been through some nasty slag in my career, but this rates right up there with some o'the Cons' best torture plans. What kind of processor can even think of things like that, let alone plan to use'em on another mech?"
"The content was that disturbing?" a new voice asked, making him turn in surprise.
"Prime!"
Had their commander arrived in time to hear his sarcastic retort? Or more? He would have to assume the worst until he could be sure and get himself back under control before he made it worse; it was an unforgivable mistake that he had raised the topic of their bond even obliquely when the door was unlocked.
"Jazz found it so," Prowl was nodding, entirely professional, "but he also began to tell me about a trigger for the encryption which should resolve our issues."
Optimus looked at him curiously and Jazz pulled himself together.
"Yeah, there're protocols in the encryption set to decrypt automatically if the query entered is related to the content. If it doesn't decrypt, it's because it's unrelated. So if Ratchet knows anything about his own CPU wiring and encrypted it, it'll become available when the query is entered, then re-encrypt when the query is cleared. I just had Prowl try it out himself."
"And it worked?" Prime asked.
Prowl nodded, looking thoughtful.
"Indeed. In fact, I would consider it a security hazard if not for the fact that it is hidden behind the main access locks. It is perhaps best that this remain a carefully guarded secret."
Prime nodded.
"Agreed. Please inform First Aid that he is to formulate some specific queries he wants answers to, then bring him to meet us in my office. And later I want to discuss crew discipline: Ratchet and Wheeljack should never have been left unnoticed for so long. Jazz - I would speak with you a moment."
Prowl bowed shortly and left, and Jazz looked at his commander curiously.
"Problem, boss?"
"Two. Firstly - I need to know if you're okay."
"Me?"
"Prowl may not know what you went through at the start of the war, and Primus knows I hardly do myself, but Ratchet did a lot of work undoing it, didn't he?"
Jazz winced openly, relieved to have found a good excuse for whatever Optimus might have heard.
"Yeah. He did. But it's okay, he... he wasn't explicit in much of it. Wouldn't wanna be the mech who gets to analyse it, though."
Prime nodded.
"I have already decided that First Aid's use of the database is to be closely monitored to ensure he accesses only the files he absolutely needs. Many of us have things in our past that a young mind may not easily comprehend, and we need him functioning and focused. That includes Ratchet himself, though whether he would note his own past crises in such a database is debatable. Nevertheless, even if this goes poorly and it is discovered that it is already too late to save him, I have no intention of giving First Aid unrestricted access to this information. I would like you to start considering how we could build firewalls within the database to adequately restrict him. Now as to the second matter: Mirage is not to leave this base without my explicit permission."
Jazz thought he managed to hide his surprise successfully.
"Mirage? Is he injured?"
"I understand you have been plotting something. Whatever it is, I'm stopping it now until we've gotten this current situation sorted out. Firs Aid does not need any more injured to deal with."
"Aw boss, plotting's a bit too strong don't ya think?"
"What that means," he continued implacably, "is that I want Mirage, Bumblebee and Hound where I can find them at any given moment. Rearrange the roster so that they are on duty in the command centre at regular intervals; tell Bumblebee he is not to go visiting Spike for the next few days; and make sure none of them are on the outer patrols where they might accidentally get lost or go off track. When they are on patrol, they are to be matched with suitable partners who will understand the necessity of following orders and not be swayed into checking out some hunch that any of them might have. And as an extra precaution, I have asked Silverbolt and Hot Spot to have their teams keep an eye on every Autobot who leaves the Ark, to ensure everyone is safe. Is that clear?"
Jazz knew when a battle was lost and smiled reassuringly.
"Course, boss. No worries."
"Good. Now come, lets hear what First Aid has to say about Wheeljack."