For The Race – Prime Protector.
Chapter Fifteen.
A/N: Once again, much thanks to Hummergrey for ideas used within this chapter. 1 vorn = 83 human years
As thoughtless as Ratchet had been about his earlier phrasing, he was far more careful when it came to informing Sam about Cybertronian relationships, Sam decided.
The green mech carefully placed Sam on a worktable and backed off well out of arms reach, before beginning to project holograms . His voice took on a familiar (to Sam) lecturer's tone as he explained about ancient Cybertronian history, myth and legends, religious tenets, and scientific theory around the AllSpark and Cybertronian reproduction.
In spite of herself and her nerves, Sam found herself getting quite interested in the subject matter under discussion. One or two subjects made her raise her metal brow ridges, and sometimes she had to raise her hand to interrupt, making her feel like she was back in school, but Ratchet was patient, and thoroughly – sometimes too thoroughly – explained anything that Sam queried.
She didn't ask Ratchet everything, there were some questions she felt that only Optimus could answer, and these she filed away for future reference. This was something else beneficial Sam found about her new form: forgetfulness was not common in Cybertronians, and when it occurred, it was treated as a major problem, and with her new method of memory storage, Sam could understand why. Her human, forgetful mind was now just a memory, and she wondered how she'd coped before her transformation. She could also, it seemed, multitask, but decided not to push that during this explanation, and turned her full attention back to what Ratchet was telling her.
"So whether you take the religious view, the general secular view, or the scientific view, the result was still the same, that the AllSpark began to be used more and more for reproduction, and as it did so, mech-femme reproduction became frowned upon. All the feelings and respect and emotions were there, but interface began to be seen more as a recreational activity instead of reproductive necessity. As such, the records of the effects of reproduction on the mech and the femme have been lost, and I suspect not all of these losses were accidental."
Sam put her hand up again. "Why? I can understand the religious view was that Primus sent the AllSpark to replace femme births, but why did even the non-religious become opposed?" she asked.
"Again, only a few records exist from that distant time to be sure, but I have a hypothesis. I think that once the technology to prevent femmes from carrying was developed, and became widespread, it became seen as – vulgar – is the only word I can find to describe it – to reproduce by the original method," Ratchet explained. "At first, AllSpark sparklings were reserved only for the very rich or the very important, but over time it became apparent that the AllSpark had seemingly limitless power, and it became allowable to permit an AllSpark sparkling to somebody not rich or of the elite." Ratchet sighed, shifted position, and continued.
"As society evolved, and more and more people were permitted access, particularly after the building of the Great Dome was finished, and the AllSpark Guardians were established, it became fashionable to have at least one AllSpark sparkling. Once the contraceptive mechanisms for femmes were created, it also became fashionable for any femme Creator and any femme Sparklings she had, AllSpark-created or not, to have them installed. It became a badge of rank, of sort. Femmes were proud to possess them, it implied that they were special enough not to need mech – femme Sparkmerge to reproduce." The medic lifted one shoulder in a sort of shrug. "Which implied that said method was undesirable, or at least not to be admitted." He gave another one-shouldered shrug. "Within twenty vorns, being femme-born became something you did not admit to."
"That's daft!" Sam exclaimed. Ratchet nodded, he agreed entirely.
"The AllSpark usually only produced a femme every two to four hundred mechs Sparked, and nobody is sure why," the medic continued. "Femmes used to be treasured as a result, but as attitudes towards their ability to bear changed, so did the way they were perceived. After a while, some families considered femme offspring to be a curse rather than a blessing. It is also notable that in the five vorns before the AllSpark was sent into space, the ratio rose to one in every fifty. My personal opinion is that the AllSpark would not produce femme sparks, or at least would not make them able to create Sparklings, via a merge, if it was not meant to be." He inclined his head to Sam. "I also think that in the five vorns in question, the AllSpark could see or sense what was coming, and produced more femmes as a failsafe."
"Then why has it done this to me?" Sam cried. "Does that mean that I am the only femme left? Am I expected to take on the AllSpark's role?"
Ratchet rushed to reassure Sam, for the young femme's agitation was causing her to reconfigure into battle mode, her armour rising up to cover her more vulnerable parts, her weapons beginning to deploy.
"No, Sam, I'm not saying that. It may be that there are other femmes on their way, but that the AllSpark decided to create one extra failsafe. It means that at least one femme exists on Earth, along with us mechs. It may be that you will settle for just one mech, and then it is likely that you will have at least one femme sparkling. And remember, we are very long-lived. Even if you only chose to have one sparkling every three vorns, you would still end up with quite a sizeable family. Also, the few records of femme-births that do survive suggest that, as in human families, the mech-femme ratio of sparklings created this way is fifty-fifty."
"What if I choose nobody, and stay single, go with nobody?" Sam challenged the medic.
"Then that is your choice, and we Autobots will accept that," Ratchet said, and although the medic did not state it, the obvious conclusion Sam drew from that was that the Decepticons would likely not be anything like as accepting.
Sam nodded for Ratchet to continue, and wondered if Mikaela was finding it any easier to teach Optimus about human relationships.
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Mikaela blew a strand of her hair out of her eyes, rolling them as she managed to answer one of Optimus' questions, only one of several dozen she hadn't even guessed he might ask. How could the big guy be so old, so wise, and yet, in many ways, so clueless, all at the same time?
"We still seem to have so much in common, "Optimus said, still sounding confused, and Mikaela bit down on an urge to scream at the Autobot leader. Here she had been for the best part of an hour, trying to emphasise how important it was that the Prime focus on the differences between their species, but all he could focus on was the similarities! Looking for common ground was all very well when attempting to resolve a conflict, she supposed, but making love contained far more pitfalls than making war, and it was important to respect those differences that mattered.
"Look, big guy, we may have a lot in common, but there's so much we don't, too. Humans, be they male or female, don't come equipped with armour and weapons, so something you may not find threatening can seem very threatening to a human, especially a girl, and Sam probably still feels very vulnerable, even with his weapons and armour, because she's not used to having them! Believe me, there have been times in my life when I would have been grateful for them, but because I didn't, I had to do my best, and sometimes that wasn't enough."
At Optimus' quizzical look, she ducked her head, the words tumbling out as she tried to explain her statement. "I know we have a taboo against forcing others, but it's not quite as taboo to some humans as it is to you Cybertronians, and Sam will be aware of that, just as I am." As Optimus opened his mouth to ask the question she knew he was about to, she gave him a fierce glare. As different as they were, even Optimus could recognise that the look meant that the subject was closed. Much as he wanted to ask, he knew that he should not, at least not right now. Instead, he closed his mouth and nodded.
"Taboo although forcing is, the taboo could be broken, and that is one of the reasons that the 'Prime's Own' custom was created," he explained. "Because Sam's human customs may inhibit her, I have tried to be as careful as I can. I promise to let her dictate the pace anything happens at, and accept that nothing may ever happen. Such choices happen, although rarely, amongst our kind, and it is usually accepted. The war fragmented us morally as well as physically, but if Sam wishes to go through her life without ever fully interfacing, or bearing, that is her choice, and we among the Autobots will respect it." He smiled as he saw Mikaela finally realise that he had taken in everything she had said. "We do have our differences, but we are similar in more ways than is immediately apparent."
She flinched as a holoform took form beside her, and she watched in amazement as Optimus changed its build, skin tone, clothing and colouration. When he had finished, she had to admit that however he had researched attractiveness among humans, it had worked: the handsome blonde, tanned muscular figure facing her was almost giving her palpitations. She had seen Optimus use holoforms before, but this was as far from his rugged, checked-shirt, stubbled forty-something trucker holo as you could get! She realised her face was flushing, and she searched for words to explain it, but couldn't. In fact it was Optimus – synchronising his voice with the holo – who spoke first.
"You have shared intimacy with Sam, Bumblebee has told me, so may I ask you to share your knowledge with me? Show me on the holoform how Sam liked to be touched, and perhaps I can touch you back with it and find out where Sam may like to be touched, as a femme."
Mikaela was at first rendered speechless by this blatant request, and spent a whole five seconds working out how to pay Bumblebee back for his indiscretion during his next valet at her father's garage. Loosen his wheel nuts, steal his spark plugs, wash him with saltwater... then she pulled herself back together.
"Can you do that?" she asked, her curiosity overcoming her indignation. "Holos are just light, aren't they?" Optimus chuckled, and reached forward, and took her wrist in the holo's hand. To her surprise, as it tightened its grip, she could feel it.
"We can use tractor beams and their opposite, pressor beams, to make them seem solid enough," he explained. "It's all very well to look authentic, but occasionally we need to feel real as well," he explained. "I may not be as skilled as Hound, but I promise to be careful."
Her head whirled as she thought about it. She had to admit that the holoform was highly attractive, and she technically was single now that Sam was a femme. She had to admit that she had a technical interest in finding out how realistic Optimus' holoform was, she could even correct him if he made errors, and if Sam did eventually decide to go with the Prime, she could work out the bugs, as it was, just as she would with any piece of electrical equipment of his, now she had moved beyond just cars with Ratchet's help. This would likely be helpful to Sam, so why not? After all, Optimus and Sam technically were not dating, and he had said she was one of his femmes. Was it possible that she...?
"Can I be one of the Prime's Owned as well?" she asked breathlessly, completing the question aloud. Optimus' answer was an amused chuckle, and she felt the holoform move closer, take her in its arms and gently lower her to the floor.
"Why not?" he asked, and she noted with satisfaction that he managed to mimic warm breath against her ear. She briefly wondered how, then decided she didn't really care. As holographic lips, also warm, brushed against her own, she decided that the how didn't matter, what was important was that he could do it. Her hands rose to clasp firm holographic shoulders, and she pressed her body up against one that felt as firm as her own, and as she breathed a cry of desire, her world shrank until all she could feel was her body and his pressing against each other, his hands and her hands touching and exploring each other.
The last vestige of protest disappeared in a sudden wash of lust and desire.