Red Alert Is On the Case!

EDC HQ - Shuttle Control - 

Of all the EDC HQ satellite bases, Area 51 shows the least amount of change from its previous state. Area 51, smack in the middle of the blazing Nevada heat, contains numerous above ground facilities and three Cybertonium landing strips. From the ground, Earth Defense Command shuttlecraft and other aerospace vehicles can be seen taking off and landing at all hours of the day. From afar, a powerful cloaking field hides their presence and confuses long range sensors into thinking normal military craft are here. Unlike the other satellite bases, Area 51 does not hide its existence; instead it hides what it truly is. Most believe it still under the control of the United States Air Force.

The base's command center leads directly to the underground GroundBridge terminal connecting it to the rest of EDC HQ, and work with them to monitor the state of all EDC vehicles around the globe. Its defenses are the most conventional of them all, with massive anti-air laser turrets, missile batteries, long range radar dishes, and a whole host of tanks and soldiers here to defend the base.

The computer terminals are all filled with various reports, some dating back to 1986 even, as Red Alert stands behind the EDC technician currently combing the databases. "I'm sorry sir, but with such.." he pauses, looking over the exhaustive list he was given. "Search parameters, it's just hard to exactly pinpoint what you're looking for exactly." Tech Jeeves says to the Autobot.

Tapping his fingers idly over the seat's back, Red Alert brings a hand up to his chin. His optics flutter over the reports, trying to put together all the pieces of the puzzle. "First rule of a good conspiracy, kid." the Security Director says aloud, "Never rule out anything as a possible lead."

Carly wanders in through the back of the room, carrying a heavily laden cardboad box that seems to be filled with various personal knick-knacks. She sees Red Alert and staggers to a stop, and then attempts to start sneaking out of the room behind him withut him noticing.

Amber MacKenzie delivers some verbal instructions to the sub-base commander with her usual warm courtesy. Once out of earshot, she sighs heavily, the facade of cheer vanishing. "I am *so* tired of glorified secretarial work," she mutters to herself as she checks out through normal base security. Marissa really needs to get a real secretary. She briefly glances around the so-familiar base and notices that they finally got the air conditioning working reliably. Yay.

Spike Witwicky blindsides Carly from the other side of the hallway, striding right in. "Carly!" he says loudly. "I got you something, as thanks for the exotic chocolate bar." He drops an aerobar in her box of knick-knacks. Maybe that'll make her happy. "Evening, Red Alert, MacKenzie. What are you folk up to?"

Velum had stayed a while longer on Nebulos after the fight between Fort Max and Scorponok, also taking time to check in on the big guy and Galen. But eventually she had to return to Earth, if only to tie up a few loose ends with her work. The door to the shuttle control room slides open with a soft hiss and Velum walks through, eyes currently overlooking a datapad in hand and a faint frown on her lips. "Charlie I'm gonna need shuttle bay six cleared for use. Gonna go on patrol in twenty." Minutes that is. She stops a few paces into the room however and looks up at the sound of Spike speaking up, finally noticing everyone in the room and just kind of.. raising a brow. "..How do we all always end up in the same room?" Damn you conveniency. She doesn't dwell on it for now though, just offering the humans a nod and eyeing Red. "Red Alert." She greets flatly. "Didn't realize we'd be getting a visit. Hope everything's in order?"

Turning around abruptly, Red Alert fights the urge to unholster his weapon and start pointing it around accusingly at them. How'd they manage to sneak up on him? Was he really losing it this time? Or has this current case simply taken all of his attention? "Oh, yes. Greetings. I totally knew you were there the whole time, I've just been busy with this." he points to the screens, unclicking the button on his holster.

One can never be TOO cautious.

Giving Velum a warm nod, he can trust her.. she's half robotic, Red Alert points to the screens filled with anything that matches a search for things like 'Silas' or 'MECH' or 'Human Terrorist Cells' or etc. "Just doing some casual reading, you?"

Spike drops the melted chocolate bar into Carly's box, causing the carefully balanced box to tip over and out of her hands onto her feet with a smashing sound. "'Thank you', Spike!" she yelps out, before wincing and trying to pick her box up again to inspect the damage.

Spike Witwicky squints at the screens, frowning until his sweet, poor clumsy Carly just drops everything. "You have to be more careful... What's this about Silas? What's the news?"

Amber MacKenzie had just come into view herself and blinks in mild surprise, coincidentally thinking the same as Velum about the sudden aggregation of EDCers... then again, this *is* an EDC base. "Evening, Spike, Carly, Velum," she returns pleasantly, "Nice to see you all." Red, she hadn't noticed until Velum spoke. "Sir," she greets him politely. This mech isn't known to her except by reputation. And from the EDC's files. As chocolate and box fall, she steps out of range of any other unknown falling objects.

Velum narrows gaze at the screen when catching those words, uttering an unhappy little 'hrm' and tucking datapad under her robo arm. "Good luck with that search. We've already been through our own search for him, but he's smart and likely scrubbed himself off the grid. Well, not the news though, I imagine he likes that sort of attention." Shoulders roll in a shrug. "K'Gard probably scrubbed it even further since they're both so buddy-buddy now." That's what worries her the most. It's like Cross all over again.

She steps over to have a closer look at the ongoing search results, but glances to Carly in particular, hesitating a moment before asking, "Carly.. about that thing with Zarak. ..Sorry it didn't go as planned." Spike gets a pointed look after she says this.

Carly kneels down to rescue a broken china cat from her box, examining the crack. She looks up at Velum with a sigh. "I know, I... I really thought that for once we could have resolved a situation with diplomacy, not violence." She shoots a dark look at Spike. "And maybe we could have if /Autobot X/ here hadn't run in and tried to smash everything up!"

"Have you been hiding in a hole, Spike?" Red Alert's mouth opens before he has time to think and observe. Dark circles under his eyes? Check. Obvious tension between the Witwickys? Check. Stances suggest distance and separation? Check. Spike and Carly are having marital issues, it was obvious. As if the date with Zarak didn't already tell them as much. "I mean, I need both your and Velum's help in this matter. It's very important." he notes, informing Jeeves to bring the image on the main screen.

"This is Silas, well.. this is his plane. The terrorist known as Silas is an enigma to us, and by golly gosh, that doesn't sit to well with me!" he shouts. "In fact, I could use all your help in this." he corrects himself, taking a seat in a Transformer sized chair.

 Red Alert has encrypted this channel.

 Red Alert says, "Is there anyone in archives who can forward me intel?"

Spike Witwicky folds his arms indignantly, "As if this wouldn't dissolve into violence anyway! Frankly I thought it was very /low/ of us to play along with Zarak's perverted game. Velum, next time you can offer up one of your suitors, if it would please Llyra!" He grumbles quietly. "Not a hole, Red Alert, it's merely that people don't keep me updated as often as they used to. But yes, I'm /aware/ of Silas."

"Another stereotypical megalomaniac who wants to rule everything," Amber comments wryly. "He's fond of putting bombs in his subordinates' brains, so don't expect many of them to defect. His clandestine operatives tend to use the names of baseball teams, which is pretty stupidly obvious in my opinion. He somehow managed to take over and process as soldiers, the prisoners of Subaqua 1, the world's worst prison, full of convicted murderers. Does that help, sir?"

Velum snerks softly at 'Autobot X', though kind of quickly looks away at Spike's mention of 'suitors'. Suitors? What suitors?? Attention falls back to Red. "Well, we know about as much as you do. No name but Silas, runs MECH, string puller to Cross with obvious ties to the government. Also has his fingers in the Galactic Assembly pie, what with him showing up with K'Gard at that meeting. I have a feeling he was the one to even suggest the attack on Cybertron, or at least further the idea along and garner support."

"You can't solve all your problems with your fists..." Carly pulls a face at Spike's words, and then looks up at Red Alert's screen. "I saw him on Cybertron, or at least his hologram. He seems to think he has some legitimate role to represent Earth, perhaps that is why the Galactic Council members are listening to him. I mean, why else would they let a terrorist into their inner circle. We could meet with them and explain that he could not be trusted."

Spike Witwicky exhales slowly and leans back against the wall, begrudgingly shifting focus to the terrorist at hand. "...Has no Terran representative stepped forth?"

Tapping his foot impatiently, Red Alert waits for the squabble between Carly and Spike to end before speaking up. "Attention, we've got a fiasco on our hands. Could you to table whatever in Primus' name is going on in your personal lives, so we can get to work on the bigger problem here?" he chastises, all old robot like with a wagging finger of disapproval. "Now, thank you Amber. That was very concise." he praises the EDC Operative, resting back in his chair. "Well, you could be that representative.. Spike. Former commander of Earth's premier defense force? Can you think of a better alternative?" he asks, looking towards Velum. "Noted. I'll be copying your archives not only for Silas, but Cross files as well."

 Red Alert says, "I would prefer a courier, such sensitive data cannot be trusted to over shortwave."

Velum nods. "Go right ahead, I've no objections." Head cranes over to look to Spike next, "I agree with Red. With Faireborn busy you're the next best canditate. Besides, this used to be your job, and you're pretty much the poster boy for Earth. Put on your diplomacy suit and get on out there again." This is less a suggestion and leaning more towards an order.

"Your /diplomacy/ suit," Carly stresses, waving a finger at Spike. "You remember what that is like, right?"

 Blurr says, "What do you need, Red?"

 Red Alert says, "I need a harddrive of our files on Cross and Silas delivered, Blurr."

 Red Alert says, "Perfect mech for the job!"

 Blurr says, "I'm on it!"

Amber MacKenzie successfully ignores the Witwickys' publicly-aired marital woes. Maybe that's why Daniel deserted them. " We would definitely need someone who could devote all their time to it," she muses. Her gaze drifts to the Witwickys and then away again. Spike might work, but certainly not the giddy and gullible Carly. Maybe she'd change her mind about his suitability if she knew more than rumors about the man's behavior.

Spike Witwicky begins to look quite uncomfortable. "I know what diplomacy is, Carly! Really, guys? /I'm/ the best choice? I can't do that stuff anymore, I'm just the mechanic." But Velum's tone is rather pressing, and everyone is looking at him. "...Fine, if you can even get it approved, but I'm requesting some diplomatic Autobot help."

"Perfect, Freezeout is looking for an assignment." Red Alert delightfully retorts, opening up his datapad to key in some notes.

* Keep Carly and Spike away from eachother for the duration of diplomacy hearings. * Give Freezeout the assignment to help Spike. * Follow newspaper reporter lead on Silas. * Recheck habsuite for bugs.

"So that's decided." Red Alert finishes typing on his datapad, looking towards Amber. "Who's your current head of Intelligence? I'd like to meet with them at the nearest opportunity to go over matters."

Walking in, Mute listens to the discussion as he silently takes a seat near Red Alert, listening to the humans, Nebulon and of course Red Alert. He avoids interupting the discussion as it seems to be one of those important ones that should be kept out of unless roped into it in some way.

Amber MacKenzie snorts quietly as she's addressed. "I'm still General Faireborn's aide at this time, but I'm looking to transfer out. I feel that my skills are under-utilized." What an understatment She doesn't mention the last time she asked for active duty, only to be declined. Poor, fragile little squishy, though in all justice, she is just that. "Matters, sir? What matters might these be?"

Suddenly, a Blurr! The courier streaks across the dry landscape and arrives on the scene at Area 51, with data discs in subspace, as Red Alert had requested. He stops in front of everyone, nodding his greetings. "Good cycle, all!" he says, smiling politely before handing the data drives to Red Alert. "Red Alert. This should be all we have. Most of it is stored on the network, but these were in the archives."

Spike Witwicky starts to look stressed. Oh god diplomacy again. He'll have to wear a suit and stamp papers. He's already twitching. "I'm... going to get a beer." Blurr and Mute get a quick nod.

"/Spike/!" Carly cries out in shock. "You are not going to go drinking again. Think of your health!" She prods at his stomach. "The canteen serves a delicious and healthy tomato juice!"

"Thank you, Blurr." Red Alert says politely, taking the disks and giving the speedster a gentle pat on the back. "It's good to have proper help in Intel again." When Mute enters, he approaches the tape-bot and hands over the disks. "Mute, can you cross-check their files with ours? Set up a venn diagram to see where our intel overlaps, and also what either party -doesn't- know?"

Retaking his seat, Red Alert nods to Amber. "Galactic Assembly, namely. Otherwise, there is a delicate matter of a sensor network being put in place I'd like to discuss as well."

Velum can only take so much Witwicky interaction in one sitting, so she imagines it's about time to step out. And besides, another tech, Charlie, is already stepping up to her. "Shuttle bay six is ready for you, Captain." Velum gives him a nod. "Thank you, tell them I'll be down in a minute." She turns back to the group at hand, tipping head to the new arrivals in apology that she can't stay. "I'm going out on patrol now. Red, if you need me for anything else just radio me. That goes for the rest of you as well." She eyes the humans and smirks, giving the room a half-hearted salute with two fingers before moseying on out the door.

Spike Witwicky gets his gut poked at in front of all these EDCers and Autobros. Suddenly he's not in a mood to drink. "I'll just grab some celery stalks later," he murmurs, waving off Velum.

Taking the disks, Mute inserts one into a slot that opens in his arm, though they half stick out given he is, you know, a small bot. The disk spins as he reads the data from it. He proceeds to do the same with each of the disks he has been handed.

Amber MacKenzie idly ponders a report on life with the real Witwickys, but she's not that cruel. "I see," she answers courteously. "I've read reports on this sensor network. On Cybertron, is it? Oh! Goodbye, Velum. Stay safe. And if you can't, kick aft." And finally, she nods in polite greeting to Mute, with whom she's not acquainted.

Blurr nods as Red Alert thanks him. "Not a problem, Red! Just doing my job. If you need me for anything else, just hit me up on our comms, or my personal hailing frequency." He salutes the group, and then runs off, disappearing as quickly as he had come.

Carly fishes into her coat pockets and pulls out a packet of sealed celery sticks that she passes to Spike. "And no dip!" she chides. "It is surprisingly full of saturates!"

"Thanks," Spike says flatly, frowning at Carly. Maybe she should go STUDY SOMETHING. "Who's this guy then?" he asks of Mute.

Taking notice, Red Alert jots something else down in the datapad.

* Usually sociable Blurr eagerly avoids interaction and exits, despite his action-item todo list being empty. * Get Chromedome's medical analysis on Blurr's psyche.

Closing the device, Red Alert turns his attention back to the here and now. "Good patrol, Velum. Now then, I will have to keep that in mind Amber. I'm not sure what the official structure here is, but you seem to be keeping a keen ear to the ground with Intel."

As he finishes reading the last of the disks, Mute stands up and walks over to one of the rooms computer terminals, where he patches himself in (all allies here right, nobody will mind surely). He then proceeds to access the EDCs records on Cross and Silas. As he does so, it appears that two streams of data scroll on his face-screen, one scrolling up the other down. Sections appear to be highlighted on both though the scrolling is fast enough to make both unreadable.

Mute notices Spike asking who he is, however while Mute looks towards Spike, he continues silently processing data.

Red Alert points at the tape-bot, "That's Mute. He doesn't say much, but he's one hell of an operative."

"A mute, huh," Spike grunts, dusting his hands. "Well don't have too much fun in here, Red." With a lazy salute, he heads on out to go nibble on veggies.

"Pleased to meet you, Mute," Amber says with her usual courtesy as she watches Spike flee. Returning her attention to Red Alert, she points out, "Like many EDCers, I have access to your bulletins, and yes, I try to stay on top of events that affect both of our species... which is almost everything these days," she notes wryly.

A hologram appears in the air above Mute as Red makes comment about him not saying much, the hologram shows one of those signs humans use to display the number of days since an accident occured in the work place. Only this one reads: 1,826,570 days without words

The scene fades, everyone inspecting the venn diagram that Mute had prepared. It is then, they all set out to tackle the problem from different angles. Each carefully considered and coordinated by Red Alert, the ever vigilant Autobot.

See, sometimes.. just sometimes, paranoia pays off.