A few things before you race ahead. We update every Monday and Friday unless RL gets in the way, which is not often. There will be NO Cons in this story, neither will we involve Sari any way. I hope that answers a few questions asked.

And now, BEHOLD THE REVELATIONS!

Half a megacycle later, every Autobot was assembled on the ship's bridge. Ultra Magnus occupied his chair, looking a bit weary. A cube was in his hand and, almost automatically, he kept sipping it. Sentinel was rather grumpily curled up in his own seat. His hands were trembling lightly. Bulkhead chose to accompany Optimus, who was kneeling next to Bumblebee's motionless form, gently holding the small yellow hand. Worry was whining in him; he had no idea what was this all about, the others haven't said anything yet. Prowl and Jazz stayed on the side, close to each other. Ratchet could feel the subtle changes in their energy patterns, the telltale merry flutter of a freshly formed bond, even though the two cyberninjas appeared to be perfectly calm and indifferent.

Finally, Magnus tilted his head up and started to talk. "Autobots, I have some very bad news. Some of you already know about it, but it turned serious enough that we're not allowed to ignore it any longer. I will not try to belittle the danger because it might have fatal consequences. We are facing with a medical emergency at the moment, an infection, which was unknown before to our kind—a plague of mutant space barnacles is upon us. Our medic," he gestured toward Ratchet, "will fill you in about the details."

The way Prowl tensed up on the side was barely detectable.

Ratchet had an ache in his CPU even as he began. "I'll start from the beginning," he mumbled, looking up to address the crew he was familiar with. "Do you all remember when Bumblebee and Prowl went into the forest with Sari several weeks ago—and how they were infected with space barnacles? Sari reported that she had burned them all off with steam and hot water. She did get rid of the worst of the barnacles. But it seemed that some of the specimens had reached deep enough to curl around the spark chamber and regenerate into a new strain.

"This new strain...feeds off of a constant supply of heat and energy. The heat it gets well enough from the spark chamber. This causes the barnacles to spread, which—as many of you may have noticed in Bumblebee and in yourselves—causes delirium and various malfunctions in the system. The quickest way to seek energy is to experience an overload;" here, Ratchet looked at Optimus, a bit concerned. He didn't think Prime would blame Bumblebee for anything, but he knew that it would hurt to know the truth of what he'd been doing.

"And... That's why Bumblebee has approached the majority of you as he has. I have no doubt that nearly every 'bot in this room is now infected, because of that." Ratchet raised his hands, before anyone could protest. "But remember that this is not his fault! And also...I'm partially to blame for all of this. I should have pestered him for a check-up, but I didn't; consequently, I've only just recently come to realize the seriousness of this epidemic. I apologize to all of you. But I assure you that I am working on a cure. The infection is still fresh in many of you, and should be simple to destroy, if my theory is correct." Nobody is offlining on my watch, he thought privately.

Sentinel curled up even more in his seat, shooting dark glances around and mumbling to himself. Bulkhead was watching Optimus, whose optics were wide and staring at Ratchet; eventually, a few clicks escaping from his vocalizer, but nothing more. He lifted Bumblebee's hand to his lips and kissed the small fingers. Then, he looked up at Bulkhead, and the green giant nearly cringed from the despair he saw in his leader's gaze. He was sure Optimus was a lot more worried for the scout than for himself.

Prowl's fingers scratched on the metal console he was leaning on. Now it made sense. The odd dreams, the intense overloads, and his own strange behavior...it all made sense. He had been infected by the barnacles; he surely had the mutant version clinging to him, too...and they spread via intimate intercourse...Primus! He didn't dare to look at Jazz.

Ultra Magnus slowly, carefully stood up and nodded to Ratchet. "Thank you. Now, I want all of you to stay calm and don't even think of accusing anybody, including yourselves. Even...I have fallen victim to this infection, but I completely trust Ratchet's abilities. The Elite Guard will stay here until the case is solved. We cannot risk dragging it back to Cybertron. It will be hard on all of us, and therefore, if any of you has trouble, seek medical help immediately. Ratchet, would it help if you examined all of us, to study the development of the barnacles?"

Ratchet shook his head. "I've already collected some samples from Bulkhead. He helped bring it to my attention and volunteered. We theorized that the barnacles may be vulnerable to a certain type of radiation, since nothing else we've tested seems to work." He paused, adding, "Though, I would like a check-up of every 'bot who hasn't received one, so that I can assess the extent of the damage. Those infected more than the others must be treated first before the barnacles can spread."

Magnus nodded, addressing all of them. "I believe every 'bot here has an idea how serious his infection can be, so you are to report to the med bay in due time. Since it is a rather intimate topic, I expect you to be discrete, and treat it and each other with the proper respect. The meeting is now over." He wanted to collapse on his berth and recharge for two stellar cycles at least. Damn those barnacles...!

As everyone began to disperse, Ratchet had to separate Bumblebee from Optimus. He didn't want to leave Bumblebee outside of his care, but he did promise Prime that he could come by and see him, so long as he himself actually got some rest, and kept in reverent check.

Jazz was a bit disturbed by all of this as he and Prowl left, and couldn't help a shudder—the thought of space barnacles being inside a mech's systems unsettled him greatly. And he'd heard that Prowl had initially been infected, too...

"Hey." The fellow cyberninja nudged his newly bonded's shoulder. "Are you...well, are you feelin' alright? I think this explains a lotta your odd behavior..."

Prowl twitched from the touch and Jazz could feel all the fear whining in his darker lover's spark. "At the moment, I'm fine, Jazz; don't worry." He still refused to look at the other. "I just...need to have a word with Ratchet, if you could excuse me for a second."

As soon as the Commander was out of sight, Optimus gathered Bee into his hands and listened to the medic's gentle words, nodding to everything obediently. "I'll...take him home, okay? And then you can check on me." He was resigned, mostly; he was smart enough to figure out that he might be in a very bad condition by now. But it didn't matter—he was not afraid for himself. But seeing Bee in stasis, those star-blue optics offline...it made his fuel tank contract painfully.

Prowl stepped in at that exact moment. He could understand how his leader felt now, but of course, it did little to ease him. "Ratchet, Prime...I have a request. As the one who was first infected, I'd like to be examined first...and then Jazz, if that's alright with you. I have a...personal reason to ask for it." He hoped Optimus won't ask. He had no problem with telling Ratchet, but only because the good old bot was a medic.

Ratchet paused only briefly before giving a short nod. "If you wish;" he looked to their leader, "Prime, I'll meet you in the med bay. Don't wait for me." The medic bot stood and led Prowl away by the shoulder. "I sense you want to get this over with, so let's find someplace where nobody will bother us."

Optimus sensed that there was something serious behind the request; Prowl have never before mentioned 'private reasons'. He nodded to Ratchet and motioned to Bulkhead to follow.

The dark ninja took a deep intake and finally glanced at his bondmate. As much as he was concerned and ashamed...he needed Jazz's closeness right now. He didn't even need to beckon; his spark called the saboteur closer. "Lead the way, Ratchet."

Jazz followed along after the two when Prowl came into sight again, wondering about the other's state. Eventually, the black-and-white ninja offered up his room for a private place to be examined—this was an exploration ship that was without a med bay, because neither Ultra Magnus nor the rest of them had foreseen this type of disturbance.

The space wasn't too large, but it wasn't cramped, either. It was simply furnished, but Jazz had brought along a few of his personal possessions to liven up the otherwise empty space for the travel here--some small figurines, dimly glowing psychedelic lamps and a few hanging scrolls that gave the room a touch of what the humans might call "feung shuei."

"Stand there and hold still," said Ratchet, directing Prowl to one open space in the room. Jazz leaned against a steady piece of furniture with his arms patiently crossed, waiting as Ratchet gave the smaller mech's systems a thorough scan.

After a cross of confusion and three more scans, if the look of utter relief on his faceplates wasn't a give-away, the words he spoke certainly were. "Prowl, you're completely clean. Any trace you had of the barnacles has been obliterated."

Prowl clicked in surprise, covering his still open midsection with one hand. His vents hummed up as he looked at Ratchet, then Jazz, then Ratchet again. Then his plating snapped shut, and he grabbed the saboteur's hand.

"Him, too...check him, Ratchet, please!" He didn't let go of the hand in his grasp.

Jazz was just as relieved as Prowl was, but with that revelation, he wasn't entirely sure that he had to be checked. It wouldn't hurt anything, though, and so he opened up his middle and allowed Ratchet a thorough scan. Just like with Prowl, Ratchet gave it a few scans through, and then a smile broke out on his face.

"He's clean, too, Prowl. You're both stable and barnacle-free."

For once, the ninjabot allowed himself to display some emotion; his vents heaved a sign and he slumped against Jazz. "Thank Primus!" he whispered, "But...how could that be possible? I was the first one to be attacked by the barnacle monster. Maybe Sari managed to purge them from my systems completely?"

"No, I don't think so." Ratchet thought for a moment. "Did you experience any similar symptoms that Bumblebee did? Delirious temperature, trouble recharging, an oddly compelling need for energy...?"

Jazz's visor flickered a bit. "Uh..." he rose his hand, "I think we could both attest for that last part. Prowl caught me alone, an' he...we..."

"Bonded?" Ratchet smirked. It made him feel young again, to know that such a thing was still possible. He wondered if anyone on Cybertron even thought about bonding anymore since such acts had been banned. "Congratulations..." the medic stopped, thinking for a moment, before he snapped his fingers. Sparks flew from the fingertips. "That must be it. If Prowl was infected beforehand, and it's gone now, the energy you two put out forging the bond must have seared the barnacles right off; a sudden flare of excess heat and energy that they couldn't take in. It makes perfect sense."

"Who would've thought?" mused Prowl, smiling up warmly at Jazz, "It really cured me." He rubbed his chin. "About the symptoms...yes, troubled recharge can be checked, but I didn't really feel the need to seek out others. However, I had very vivid and detailed dreams which pushed me close to overload...then, some self-service took care of the problem. I guess...it displays differently for everybody, because Prime doesn't seem to be too keen on getting his hands on us, either. Probably poor Bumblebee took it harder due to his size."

Ratchet nodded his head, listening intently. "If I had to put my finger on it, I'd say it may have something to do with adapting to personality. You tend to keep quiet a lot of the time and don't concern us with many of your personal problems. Bumblebee, on the other hand, is so outgoing and people-oriented...and stubborn..." Ratchet frowned. "I'm worried about him and Prime the most, now, frankly. Bee is...I don't think I want to take him out of stasis until I've explained all of this to Optimus in detail. He may have some questions still."

"I feel kinda bad for everyone else, though." Jazz was frowning deeply. "Ol' Ultra Magnus even got hit by it...but if he trusts ya, Ratchet, then so'll I. Ya seem like a very capable medic, anyhow;" he smiled, "I'm sure you'll find a way to get this under control."

Ratchet sighed heavily and rubbed his chevron to ease the ache in his processors. "Thank you, Jazz. I have my work cut out for me, but thank you."

"If you need our help, then call us immediately," Prowl nodded. "And good luck with the others. Don't let Prime worry himself sick over Bee."

Ratchet snorted. "Asking that last thing of me is like asking time to stop."

+0+0+

Somewhere else, a ways down the halls of the ship but not quite off it yet, Optimus Prime carried his stasis-locked yellow lover gingerly in his arms for the trek home. Bulkhead lumbered somberly along behind him, almost as worried for the little mech as Prime himself. The connection those two had forged between themselves surely meant that Prime worried for him the most out of anyone.

And just behind the both of them, invasive, stomping steps loudly caught up.

"A barnacle epidemic started by your glitch-headed yellow friend and fueled by a near incompetent medic—you'd better hope by Primus this all falls through, Prime, or else it'll make one Pit of a story back on Cybertron! You can be very well assured of that!"

The always abrasive Sentinel: he hated to waste time without pointing fingers.

Optimus' optics narrowed and he threw an icy look over his shoulder. "I believe Ultra Magnus asked us to behave like fully functional mature soldiers. Who'd have thought one of us would have trouble with that?"

"I am functional and mature!" brayed Sentinel, barely out of range of shouting. He pointed a vicious finger at Optimus, prodding him in the back. "Look, you: that little yellow menace got to Ultra Magnus! Ultra Magnus! And it's no big secret that he's a tired old mech with spark problems—he's a primary figurehead to the Autobot forces, and we need him! If he offlines because of this, I'll take all three of you straight to a Court Marshall—you, that stinger there and your rust-bucket medic!"

A low, menacing growl built up in Bulkhead's mighty chest, reverberating through his entire frame, but Optimus shook his head. "No need to get riled up by it, Bulkhead. Sentinel can do whatever he wants to. I don't see Ultra Magnus accusing any of us, and I'm also sure that if, perchance, he were about to offline, he wouldn't get terminated before making sure nobody is punished for something he committed under outside influence. Now, I'll take Bee to the med bay. Sentinel, you're free to follow and glitch as much as you like. I know you're a master of foul speech." He simply resumed walking forward, hugging the limp little frame in his arms closer to his chest. He seemed so fragile now, so vulnerable...

Sentinel didn't follow.

Instead, he stopped, stared as Optimus walked off and blinked furiously. He sputtered puzzled lines of static, leering at the red-and-blue mech as if checking to see if it was the same person.

"...Buh...guh...what's with you?!" he cried exasperatedly, tailing after Optimus after he shook his head and got his bearings again. "Aren't you the least bit concerned?! You sure don't sound it!"

Optimus actually stopped. He turned to Bulkhead and gently placed his precious cargo into the huge green arms, then faced Sentinel.

"Maybe because I won't get a lubricant leak when facing a dangerous situation," he said, dangerously calm. "Just for your information, Sentinel, I am worried. I worry for the Commander whom I deeply respect and admire. I worry for my team, each and every Bot. I worry for Jazz and even for you, and also myself, but most of all, I worry for Bumblebee. I have an idea in what kind of condition he might be in, and I also love him. We became lovers shortly after we awoke, and right now, my spark feels like breaking to see him like this."

Again Sentinel froze. The Prime blinked his optics again a few times, and once or twice opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. His faceplates contorted in a deep snarl and his optics narrowed in anger.

But then his optic ridge creased a seam down the center, and everything flashed from anger to pain.

He turned away. "Well, look at you, finding yourself a wired-up little sparkling." He growled bitterly. "At least you have someone...happy days and all that lot, Optimus."

The mech left without another word spoken.

Bulkhead watched the soldier go with a puzzled expression. "Umm...Boss-bot...?"

Optimus shook his head. "Never mind, Bulkhead; never mind. Let's just get Bee into the med bay and relax a bit before Ratchet returns."