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Optimus Prime: Message in a Bottle

"Optimus Prime," the human diplomat begins. "Can you explain exactly why your... technician destroyed one of our research laboratories?"

He, who was born and trained to rule over a vast empire, can only sigh. Never before has he reacted with so many headaches than since he arrived on this small organic planet. Earth customs, he has come to learn, are far more complicated than any senatorial meeting he has ever had the displeasure to not sleep through.

Medic, he wants to tell the ambassador. Ratchet is a doctor and not some kind of repair personal that is only used to keep machinery in peak condition. But of course, that is not how he replies to a question which could have already started a new war on this planet. Wouldn't want to accidentally exterminate a whole species, right?

"No, I cannot." There is a tiny spark of sarcastic glee in his voice, much as he'd normally try to mask it in a conversation. "Could you explain to me why Ratchet believed your laboratory needed its destruction?"

"The lab was part of the Human Genome Project."

Ah, how interesting.

Prime searches what humanity calls World Wide Web and finds a better answer. The laboratory was trying to decode what makes the dominant species tick. Very interesting indeed.

With what to the ambassador must seem like an abrupt air, he turns away and leaves the room. His words trail him like a robe of honour.

"If I were you, I would remember that it was your people that gave every Cybertronian on the planet the status of a diplomat."

Fully knowing that he would most probably need the next three months to pacify humanity's fear of the unknown, he looks for his medic. This is particularly difficult as Ratchet tends to hide in strange places when trying to de-glitch a medical problem. As long as said problem is wholly theoretical, that is.

Which is the reason why Prime's first stop is his Weapons Master's private quarters. If there is one mind on Earth that has made it its personal directive to always know where a medic is, then it is Ironhide.

For a short moment he wonders why the old bodyguard does this, but discards the thought once he arrives at Ironhide's door. Before he can send a message to enter, the door flings open and Ironhide storms out as if the Tharn wars have started again.

"Don't say a word, Optimus," is growled in his face. Ironhide and annoyance fit together as well as a bloodthirsty predator's taste for vegan cuisine. "He's in there, hugging my best equipment."

It is dark behind the door, view screens painting the light-less void in glimmering shades of ember and blue. Somehow this reminds him of an old children's story, something about bad things hiding in rainbows. Or was it water?..

Ratchet, eyes fixated on the largest screen, does not react when he touches the medic's shoulder.

"Why?" he asks.

Ratchet only shrugs in answer and indicates a line of code. "Can you see that?"

"I see it." But what does it mean? It is moments like these that Optimus Prime regrets never learning more about the sciences.

"Ten years before Orion and Trion were born, there was a scandal. The whole Science Academy was near to rebellion because of one anthropologist. He specialized in genetics. He had this absurd theory that we could interbreed with organic species."

He vaguely remembers hearing of this scandal. It led to one of the last wars against organic invaders.

"In the end he was banished to one of the more remote colonies. His research was either destroyed or declared a high security risk. Not even one vorn later the Academy heard of an explosion in his house, that he killed himself with a defect heating unit.

"They declared him dead and tried their best to forget about him."

Ratchet types a series of commands which transform the foreign language of genetic code into something the Prime can read. What he sees is all the reason he needs to never even dare to imagine of telling the humans anything.

"Wheeljack was here," it says. "Hope I will never find you."

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Time on Cybertron:

1 vorn = ca. 83 Earth years;

1 Cybertronian year = 48 vorns;

Average lifespan = 350 years;

Orion and Trion ruled for 300 years before Optimus was born.