I don't own anything…nothing! Also, I realize some people may not like this chapter…but I am writing about an alien race with a different culture than those on Earth. So, I used what most people would consider taboo in order to make Cybertron culture different from the ones on Earth. However, to make everyone feel better; I can tell you that in this story…I will be focusing on Rodimus/Marrisa as well as a little of Prowl/Silverstar.

A month later…the Ark…Med-Bay…

"All right Swoop; let's review the material that you studied last night. What is this?" asked Gadget as she held up what appeared to be a highly sophisticated, lazar filter from her desk.

"Me Swoop say that is a spark defliabator," he answered.

"What does it do?" she questioned him, "And why do I have to put it in mech-girl's body this afternoon?"

"Umm," muttered Swoop thoughtfully, then his face lit up as he answered, "Oh! Me Swoop says it filters the spark's MSC while in the shell. You Gadget have to put it in Her Moonracer's shell because her shell is rejecting Him Prowl's Spark."

"And what is the closest human equivalent of Spark-Shell Rejection?" she asked.

"Me Swoop say human body rejecting donated organ," he informed her.

"Exactly, excellent work Swoop!" she praised him, "Now since Boomer is working on the last mold we need for the new shell, you're going to be my primary…actually my only assistant. I need to you…"

She was suddenly interrupted by the comm., "Red Light to Gadget, you got a priority call from Cybertron."

Gadget frowned as she answered the comm., "Gadget here, who is calling me?"

"It's from an old femme named Merald, she says it's important," replied Red Light.

"Why in Primus's name is Med-One's mate calling me?" she asked out loud and then wearily sighed, "Oh, well! Red, give me ten minutes and I'll take the call in my office."

"You got it, doc!" she said, "Red Light out!"

"Swoop, I want you to go into…" she quickly instructed him on what she wanted done before the surgery.

Ten minutes later…

"Gadget, I am worried," the old green femme said over the view screen, "Usually my Meddy will contact me if he is going to be gone longer than he originally thought…but I have heard nothing from him in over two joors!"

Gadget frowned in concern; finally she asked thoughtfully, "Merald has Med-One gone back on his word to the medical council? Is he doing illegal experiments again?"

Merald shifted uncomfortable, finally she desperately confessed, "Yes, he has…he had too! No credits were coming in during the Decepticon occupation; and now that the war is over…he just didn't stop! I told him to stop doing it or he would be caught! But, he wouldn't listen to me!"

Gadget became ill at ease on hearing those words, with dread she asked, "Merald, what or whom is he experimenting on?"

"Humans," she replied quietly.

Two hours later…Chromia's office…

"This is disturbing, but not unexpected," muttered Prowl as he tapped his finger thoughtfully on the chair.

"Not unexpected!" shouted Chromia, Gadget, and Marrisa Fairborne.

Taking a deep breath, Marrisa asked what the other two femmes were thinking as well, "What do you mean not unexpected?"

Instead of answering, Prowl asked, "Gadget, I think now would be a good time for you to get ready for my surgery, correct?"

Gadget stared at him furiously; finally she stalked out of the room, muttering, "Yeah, yeah…I can tell when I am not wanted!"

As soon as she left the office, Prowl asked, "Chromia, do you remember what we noticed when Prime went to Cybertron? What we theorized?"

"What in the slag," she started to say, and then she realizes what he was trying to imply, "Oh." They both stared at Marrisa in fear and wonderment, "Fragg," cursed Chromia."

"What?" Marrisa asked.

"Indeed," agreed Prowl, "But, just to confirm our theory…Ms. Fairborne, have you been having any exotic dreams where you are surround by a blue light?"

Startled by the question, she yelled out, "H-how do you know that?! I've been having those dreams for months!"

Chromia slammed her head on the desk in angry and frustration, "Slag, of all the times for this to happen!" she cursed out and then raised her head to glare at Prowl, "Do you have any idea what that ancient pit-spawn artifact was thinking?!"

"No," he drawled out in reply, "I can only assume since there are not enough femmes to go around or sub mechs that were appropriate… that pit-spawn artifact as you call it…had to go outside its comfort zone. But, I can… with ninety-nine percent accuracy… tell you what Blackarachia is most likely thinking…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," interrupted Chromia in vehemence, "Anything for her little sparkling."

"Exactly," agreed Prowl, "I firmly believe she has something to do with Med-One's disappearance."

"Would one of you," interrupted Marrisa in frustration, "please tell this poor insignificant human…what in the hell you are talking about!?"

Prowl and Chromia looked at each other for a moment, finally he stood up and headed out the door, "I'll just let you two ladies talk; I still need to do a number of things before the surgery this afternoon."

"Coward," she muttered in disgust as she pressed her communicator, "Chromia to Ultra Magnus, I know you're out there near the entrance aft-head! Pick up the comm!"

"Ultra Magnus, here," he replied, "How did you know…"

"That you were there?" she interrupted, "Fairborne spotted you tailing her, you're not a sneaky mech, Magnus. Now, be a good bot and go back to the city before I tell Prime what you are doing; he's mad enough with you as it is…isn't he?"

He didn't even reply to that particular question, he just stated, "Heading back to the city now, Ultra Magnus out."

"Now that one of your stalkers has left," said Chromia as she retrieve a glass and a bottle of hide-grade from the bottom of her desk, "let's talk about Cybertrionan sex, and as soon as that cowardly cop gets out of med bay…we'll talk about the Prime Heritage and Blackarachia's possible plans for you."

Gulping, Marrisa desperately wished she had a glass and a bottle of whiskey, "Okay, but what does Cybertrionan sex have to do with my dreams?"

Chromia waved her hand with a sigh, "That is due to the Prime Heritage, and I can't explain that until you understand our views of sex as well as procreation."

Marrisa pinched the bridge of her nose despairingly, finally she said, "All right, lay it on me…how do Cybertrions have sex?"

"Let's get the basics out of the way, femmes have two ports or outlets as we call it; similar to human females," she explained, "Mechs have two ports as well; but they also have an interface rod or spike that is similar to a human male peinus. When we have just casual sex or interfacing, we just use a spike and an outlet, are you with me so far?"

"Yes," replied Marrisa, "Spikes and ports…it sounds like the way humans have sex."

Chromia snorted in disagreement, "Yes, it is…up to certain points; one of those points is when we want to have a sparkling that is not thru Victor Sigma…but I'll get to that in a moment…where was I?" she muttered, "Ah, I remember! When we merge our sparks with no interface that is what we call spark bonding or the Cybertrionan version of marriage. When we spark bond and interface at the same time we are able to produce a sparkling that will pop out of a femme or sub-mech in six Earth months."

"Sub-mech?" she weakly asks.

"Another point on why sex is different between Cybertrionans and humans," explained Chromia, "We don't really give a slag about gender preferences the way you humans do, mechs and femmes; femmes and femmes; mechs and mechs; or a threesome! We really don't give a frag! A sub-mech is a mech that is able to carry a sparkling; if two femmes want a sparkling they either need to form a trine with a mech or go to Victor Stigma. Although I have to admit that last combination has become quite rare since the war ended," she looked at her in apprehension, "You're not one of those prejudicial humans are you?"

"No!" honestly shouted Marrisa, "If I was, I wouldn't have been able to join the EU's diplomatic core!"

"Good, now where was I?" said Chromia with relief, "Oh! In order to have a sparkling, the mech and femme need to have a perfect synchronizing of sparks while interfacing," she took a sip of high grade, "Any questions?"

"Why didn't you and Ironhide have any kids if your both spark bonded?" she asked and then immediately apologized when she noticed the sadness in her optics, "I'm sorry, if it's too personal…"

Chromia sighed as she softly said, "Ironhide was right about you humans…the most curious species in the universe." Sighing again, she answered the question, "Despite what some Autobots or humans may think, Hide and I didn't enjoy blowing stuff up all of the time. We wanted to raise our sparklings during a time of peace, not in the middle of a combat zone! So, we decided to wait until the war was over. But…."

"He died," sadly finished Marissa Fairborne.

"Yes," choked out Chromia with grief, "Primus…."

Silence reigned over the females for a moment, while Chromia regained her composure, finally she asked, "Any more fragging questions?"

"Yes, what does sex have to do with the Prime heritage?" she hesitantly asked.

Chromia closed her optics and sighed in despair, finally she stared at Marrisa with hope, "Can we wait for Prowl?"

"No," she replied forcefully.

Cursing under breath, Chromia explained, "The Prime Heritage happens due to the presence as well as energies of the Matrix of Autobot Leadership; it makes a Prime into…what's the human word I am looking for… a caveman!" She took a big sip of her high grade, and continued, "The Matrix basically helps the current Prime to find a mate that is his equal; physically, intelligently, as well as spiritually."

"You mean a soul mate?" she asked.

"Yes," she replied, "In Optimus's case, well, he and Elita-One was spark bonded as soon as he received the Matrix; in their…bedroom…Elita was the dominant one of the pair; however that soon changed when Optimus began to show signs of the Prime Heritage. He started to easily loose his temper; he couldn't stand any mech around Elita, finally, he isolated Elita to their room."

Eyes wide, Marrisa Fairborne asked, "How?"

She took a sip of high grade and then continued, "From what she told me, during one of their meetings with Magi-Aft and Prowl, he suddenly yelled out that she was his, picked her up and swung her over his shoulder. He then marched down with her toward their quarters and became very… domineering over her. He finally released her when she became pregnant with Rodimus," she chuckled in glee at the memory, "You should have seen how embarrassed he was as well as how apologetic he was to Elita thru out her pregnancy!"

Marrisa was becoming worried, "What does that have to do with me?"

Chromia sighed wearily as she replied, "Whenever Elita and Optimus were separated during this period of time; they had very…erotic dreams about each other.

Marrisa stared at her for a moment in shock; finally she burst out, "No, no way! Why me?! Why did the Matrix…I mean…aaggh!"

Chromia snorted in agreement as she took another sip, she said, "You heard Prowl before he got his cowardly aft out of here, not enough femmes to go around or sub-mechs that meet the Matrix's standards; so that ancient piece of junk had to look elsewhere. The bottom line is this…Rodimus Prime is not going to accept anyone else, even if you die. And if that happens, we will be in a Sentential Prime situation! If you studied Cybertron history, you know what happened…Optimus Prime and Megatron!"

Marrisa winced at the thought; she did studied Cybertron history…Megatron killed Sentential Prime who had no heir; it took Alpha Tron quite some time to find Orion Pax, who would become Optimus Prime. "Chromia," she questioned her in hesitation, "You said that the Matrix looks for someone who is also Prime's physical equal; I'm human…I can't be Prime's physical equal!"

"I wouldn't bet on that," disagreed Chromia as she leaned back into her chair, "If that Primus made piece of junk can change Hot Rod to Rodimus Prime inside of Unicron while being shot at by Galvatron; it shouldn't have no problem changing a human to a Cybertrionan! That's if Blackarachia doesn't beat that piece of junk to the finish line first!"

"What?" Marrisa asked with confession, and then realization dawned on her, "That missing mech whose doing experiments on humans…shit!"

"Exactly," confirmed Chromia, "If I know Prowl he is already conferring with Silverstar, so that she can be his voice when she calls Jazz and tells him to track the pit-spawn fool down!"

Marrisa slowly rose from her chair, "I need to go…and think about this."

"Go ahead," said Chromia, however before she entirely left the room, "Oh, Ms. Fairborne, just to give you something further to think about…the consort of Rodimus Prime will automatically take Elita One's place as the leader of every Autobot femme."

"I thought that you were the femme leader?"

Chromia shrugged, and then commented, "I'm just the temporary leader until Prime becomes bonded."

Marrisa stifled a scream as she went out the door; as she walked down the hallway in thought, she ran into Sideswipe, "Hey," he greeted, "What's wrong Marrisa?"

"Sideswipe, I need a favor from you," she automatically told him.

"What do you need?" he asked guardedly.

"A designated driver," she replied, "I'm going into Portland and get absolutely smashed!"

Meanwhile on Cybertron…Jazz's office…

"I'll get Hound to track him down," Jazz told Silverstar over the comm., "He should be safe since his a sub-mech."

"Tell him to wear audio plugs just in case," she advised, "and to be careful! She's a crafty glitch even when she was Elita-One!"

"Will do, anything else?" he questioned her.

Silverstar grimaced as she replied, "Chromia has noticed that our dear leader is beginning to show symptoms of the Prime Heritage before he left Earth."

"Oh? Who's the lucky femme or mech?" he asked with curiosity.

"I can't really revel that yet," she answered, "But, Chromia believes that Ultra Magnus as well as Kup have told Prime nothing about that particular aspect of the Matrix to him."

"Well then," began Jazz and then he realized what she was asking of him, "Oh, no…why can't Chromia do it?!"

"She's unable to do it," she replied, "Besides you're third-in-command and a mech, he would take it better from you! So, get you're aft in gear! Silverstar, out!"

Jazz groaned in despair as he stared at the blank screen, "Slagging great! I'm going to have a long talk with Kup if I can get thru this without getting fragging drunk!"

At the same time…Rodimus Prime's quarters…

Rodimus moaned as he tossed and turned on his berth, he was dreaming: He was surrounded in blue light…a mysterious femme was trapped beneath him, her aft wiggling in the air. He snarled out, "Mine! Your mine!" and then he slapped her several times on her aft. The femme yelped with each slap, finally the femme admitted, "Yours, I'm yours."

He growled in satisfaction as he released his interface rod, quickly he slammed it into her rear port; the femme screamed in pleasure. Rodimus grunted out with each thrust, "Mine, mine."

"Buzz!" ranged out his door alarm, he jolted awake…breathing hard from the dream…he looked down, and groaned in embarrassment; his interface rod was fully erect as well as leaking out lubricant. "Who is it?" he called out as he tried to calm down his spike.

"Its Jazz," he called from the other side of the door, "We need to talk Prime."

"I'll meet you in my office in a few astro clicks, Jazz," he ordered him as he headed toward his wash rack, "I…I need to cool off!"

On the other side of the door, Jazz responded, "Okay, Prime." As he walked down the hallway, he muttered, "Cool off…I bet he needed to cool off! Slag! Prowl should be the one doing this…or Ironhide… not me! They're the ones whom had to handle Optimus when the heritage hit him!"

30 minutes later…Rodimus Prime's Office…

Rodimus walked into his office, and immediately noticed that Jazz was slumped morosely in one the chairs. "Okay Jazz," he told him as he sat down behind his desk, "What's wrong? You're not you're usual cheerful self."

"Before I tell ya, has Ultra Magnus or Kup ever talk to ya about the Prime Heritage?" he asked desperately.

"Unum, no," he replied with confusion.

"Slag!" whined Jazz, he sighed crossly as he brought out two glasses and a huge bottle of high grade, "We're going to need this if we are going to get thru this conversation with our sanity in tact!"

As he poured them both shots, Jazz began to explain, "I guess we'll start with your Dad, and what happened to him when it started…"

2 hours later…

"Any questions?" a drunken Jazz asked.

"No," drawled out an equally drunken Rodimus Prime.

"Good, (hiccup)," Jazz told him, "I am going to recharge and then I am going to the Academy and yell at Kup for being an aft head. (hiccup) If I have time…got a lot of paperwork to do since I am doing the work of two senior officers until you get that…what are ya calling him again?"

"Mmm, oh…Lt. Caine ," wobbled out Prime.

"Yeah!" he yelled, "Lt. Caine takes over as SIC…Aft-Magnus isn't doing a thing besides stalking Marrisa Fairborne!"

"He's stalking Marrisa!" bellowed a drunken Rodimus Prime as his optics went white.

"Now calm down, Primmy," he chided him, "Member that temper thing we talked about…Maggy is not doing a thing to her, he just thinks his her bodyguard."

Rodimus snorted in anger and disgust, "You mean his trying to kiss up my aft, while appearing not too! Still don't like it!"

"I know," consoled Jazz, "He's an aft head…well…got to go…big day of being a paper pusher tomorrow!"

"Yeah, tomorrow," muttered Rodimus sleepily as he laid his head on the desk, "tomorrow."

Within the Matrix…

Rodimus sighed wearily as he stood overlooking what appeared to be Icon City, finally he shouted out, "You could have given me some warning that I would be acting like some prehistoric Earth caveman!"

"Now, why would we do that?" asked an unfamiliar voice behind him, Rodimus Prime turned around and there before him stood the imposing figure of Sentential Prime.

"Oh, I don't know," drawled Rodimus out sarcastically, "So, I won't look like an aft-hole in front of every single Autobot, human, or diplomat that I meet!"

"Watch you're language, Rodimus Prime!" he warned, "You may be fully grown…but any of us in here can turn you over our knee!"

"Just tell me why?!" he pleaded, "Why didn't you give me some sort of warning when I became Prime?"

The old Prime stared at him for a moment, finally he answered, "Three reasons, One: Unicron was destroyed, the war was over…you had enough on you're shoulders without having to worry about the Prime Heritage; Two: It was your SIC's or third in command's responsibility to tell you…they should have told you more than a few joors ago!"

Rodimus snorted in disgust, "Translation, Ultra Magnus and Kup should have seen I wasn't a sparkling anymore!"

"Yes," Sentential agreed, "Finally, Three: We didn't want a repeat of what happened with your father."

"What do mean?" he asked with a frown on his face.

Sentential sighed sadly as he answered, "As you know from your history my mate died with our sparkling in an accident that was engineered by Megatron; a cycle later…he killed me in front of everyone in the Crystal Gardens. Alpha Tron, conniving old coot that he is, decided that for the greater good the next Prime needed to be a mech that was bonded or close to be being bonded."

Rodimus made a disgusted face, "He sounds like Ultra Magnus."

He snorted in agreement, "He was worse than Ultra Magnus! He thought everyone was his own personal…well, back to the topic at hand…the old manipulator decided on Orion Pax and Aerial One. He maneuvered Megatron in attacking them, and the rest you know from your history."

"Go on," he encouraged the older Prime.

"We…those of us in the Matrix as well as Primus himself approved of your father as the new Prime; what we didn't approve of was your mother, Elita One. But, there was nothing we could do, as soon as your father received the Matrix, they bonded…"

"And Optimus went thru the Prime Heritage," interrupted the young Prime.

"Exactly," said Sentential.

"Why didn't you approve of my mother?" he asked.

"No matter the face she showed to everyone as Aerial or Elita One," he explained, "There was a darkness within her that was held back by… a barrier…this barrier was the love she had for you're father; when he died, however, the barrier disappeared and the darkness was released."

"Which turned her into Blackarachia," he muttered in realization.

"Yes," he said, "So, please forgive us…but I do not believe you would want any of your sparklings to go thru what you are currently experiencing."

"I guess I can forgive you," he muttered reluctantly, "Though I am surprised that you are the one giving me the explanations, and not my father."

Sentential shifted uncomfortable as he confessed, "He's extremely embarrassed and horrified by what you, and Lancer, witnessed at the tomb."

Rodimus winced in disgust," I'm still trying to get it out of my memory banks."

"All of us are, even Primus himself," admitted Sentential.

They were silent for a moment, finally Rodimus asked, "So, who is the lucky femme or mech that you choose for me?"

Sentential looked at the younger Prime in amusement, "You already know the answer to that Rodimus, however if it will ease you're mind and spark; it is the human Marrisa Fairborne."

"What!" he shouted in disbelief, "How? I mean…we're two different species!"

Sentential laughed out loud in delight, "If we can, with Primus's help, change you from a skinny youngling to a powerful Prime while you were inside of Unicron and being shot at by that insane mech; changing a human to Cybertrion will be easy!" He then made a face of disgust, "Well, it will be easy as soon as we can get the paperwork completed! I swear even in the afterlife, a Prime can't get away from it!"

Rodimus merely gaped at him in disbelief, as the older mech continued to ramble on, "Then there is Gaia, you wouldn't believe the hoops we had to jump thru in order to get her agreement! Oh, and let's not forgot your crazy mother! Over our corpses will we let her beat us to the finish line after we worked out afts off…"

His voice trailed off, as Rodimus slowly came back into the waking world; he groaned and rubbed his aching processor, "Never," he muttered resolutely, "Never again will I go into the Matrix drunk as a turbo-rat!"

Meanwhile back at the Ark…Ratchet's old med bay…

Prowl groaned at optics came online, and then winced in despair as looked up at Gadget's and Swoop's scowling faces, "What happened?"

"You glitched after I told you about your new sparkling sitter," commented Gadget and then wham his head with her wrench, "And what have I said about glitching in your condition?!"

"I can't help it, Gadget!" he protested, "I have no control over it!"

"And that is why you need a 24 hour sparkling sitter to shoot you with this!" she bellowed as she held up the syringe, "In case you do glitch! The defliabator is keeping you functioning at the moment…but it won't last forever! Remember what I told you? Every time you glitch it disrupts the signal that the defliabator is giving off to keep Mom's shell from rejecting your spark!"

"Gadget," he said, "I understand, but there is no reason for me to…"

Before he could finish his sentence, Silverstar walked into the med bay, "What do you need now, Gadget? If it's about those slagging supplies…"

"Silverstar," purred out Gadget with an evil grin, "Let me introduce you to your new roommate, Prowl."

An hour later...Prowl's quarters…

Green Light whistled cheerfully as she set up an extra berth in the room, "There you go, all done!"

"Thanks, Green Light," said Silverstar mournfully while she thought, 'I am going to get Gadget back for this! How did she knew that I have a crush on Prowl?!'

Prowl didn't say anything, he merely sighed in misery as he sat down on his berth. Green Light looked between the two, and chuckled, "Okay, I'm out of here! Have a good recharge!"

Once she left the room, silence reigned over the room, finally Prowl suggested, "You could sneak back to your quarters, Gadget would never know."

Silverstar snorted in disgust, and ask sarcastically, "If Ratchet the Hatchet was still functional, do you think I could sneak out of here?"

"No."

"Then there is no way in the pit I can sneak out of here without Gadget the Hatchet II from finding out," she told him sternly, "She's her father's daughter."

Prowl smiled sadly as he remember the former CMO, "Yes, she certainly is," he said.