A/N: This story will of course continue despite a specific "review". I am aware that not everyone will like this story but please don't just write a negative comment. I hate negative energies and unless you have constructive criticism then please move on. Thank you.

Chapter IV:

When Ratchet demanded to have an open conference with Prime, Optimus knew this probably wasn't going to be a good thing.

Optimus sighed.

He really didn't want to get into it with Ratchet again. It was clear that he disliked having the survivor living on the base. That, he'd made perfectly clear. But not giving him a fair chance was something totally different. That's what Optimus was worried about.

"Optimus, this isn't going to work." Ratchet said in a low growl.

"Ratchet. We need to help those who are in need. It's a part of our code."

"Your code, maybe, but I am far more concerned about our civilians. What if he goes on a rampage? What then?" Ratchet demanded to know.

They were together on the dock and so far this conversation was far from amusing.

"It's your function to care for the wounded Ratchet. This shouldn't be any different."

"But Prime…"

"Ratchet please. I'm already dealing with enough fear from everyone else in Cybertron. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't fall into that number."

Ratchet frowned.

It wasn't just the fear that he was worried about. How could he make Optimus Prime understand?

"The way he acted earlier…" Ratchet started.

"I'm sure it can be worked through."

"Optimus please," Ratchet pleaded.

"Just do your work Ratchet. That's all I'm asking right now."

Optimus left then, leaving Ratchet alone on the doc, a negative feeling forming throughout his circuits.

Perceptor was grateful that so far Prophesier was in a better mood during the rest of the examination but something did trouble him. So far, everything on the chart had looked well and good. He had fairly good health as well. There was something off though, and so far, Perceptor honestly didn't want to ask him. He didn't want to cause another commotion.

But…

"Prophesier… I need to ask you something." The larger mech narrowed his optics as though knowing the question.

"Yes…" He stated.

"The hand on your side. What on Cybertron?"

Prophesier slowly stepped up from the berth. Perceptor was weary of this and was going to try and get him to sit back down.

"I am fine," The older mech told him.

"I...I had a twin once. We were conjoined at creation," Prophesier managed.

Perceptor's optics widened a little.

"Go on…" Perceptor said while working on the data pad.

Prophesier shook his helm.

"My creator had terminated our connection at a young age but was unable to remove all the parts from us. We both continued to carry parts of each other for the rest of our lives. In some ways we had been weaker after the separation."

"I see. Is that why you were so uneasy during Prime's questions?"

Prophesier nodded.

"Yes. On my home planet such TransFormers were looked down upon and not taken kindly. Mostly looked at with fear."

Perceptor nodded.

"I understand completely. I hope you won't have that problem here on Cybertron. Is there any other part of your brother left in you?" Perceptor asked. Trying to find the right words.

"Mostly just scraps and wiring. They were able to reconstruct a new hand for him and such anyways."

"Fascinating," Perceptor said but sort of felt bad for saying so. Prophesier had a far-away look in his optics.

"So …." Perceptor started. "How about we continue the examination? I'm almost done."

Prophesier nodded.

"Alright."

Outside of the base, Red Alert and Ratchet were having an unwanted conversation. It was dark and starless outside but there was enough glow of soft light coming from technological equipment.

"Red Alert. Please just help me out here," Ratchet said, almost sounding desperate.

"No way. I don't want to have any part in it. The new bot or your plan".

"Come on, what else are you doing?"

Red Alert glared at him.

"Working. Which I see is something you aren't," Red retorted.

"Oh come on. It won't be that bad."

"Then why don't you do it?"

Ratchet shook his helm.

"We already got off to a bad enough start. I just want someone to get close enough to him and be his friend or something. You're good at that. Not me."

"What about how you keep saying how dangerous he is and everything?" Red Alert prompted.

"Don't worry, I got your back bot."

"That's reassuring." Red Alert mumbled.

"Please Red. Jazz and Bee already know him and I think you two at least will get along."

"Hmph. What's in it for me?" Red Alert demanded to know.

Ratchet blinked his optics. Red Alert was hardly the blackmailing type.

"Hey, I'm not giving my time to others out for free."

"All right, all right. Fair enough. I'll help you with your patrolling hours."

Red Alert narrowed his optics.

"Really?" He asked slowly, "That might work."

"Please Red Alert? I just need to make sure what side this bot is on."

"Don't you think you're being a little too hard on him? Besides, he lost everything he ever had. We don't really know what that's like!" Ret Alert reminded him.

Ratchet didn't say anything for a few minutes.

"Maybe, but there's only one way to find out," He said after a while, "Just get to know him Red. It won't be that hard for you. "

Red Alert sighed.

"I got a bad feeling about this."