Chapter Eleven

There was a long-standing rumour that Perceptor's pleonasm was intentional. That he purposefully went out of his way to engage in superfluous semantics to discourage people from engaging with him, or, as Raoul had once wondered aloud, "for shits and gigs".

While the idea of Perceptor getting some kind of internal amusement at befuddling his friends, colleagues and superiors alike was somewhat comical, the Autobot Leader couldn't believe that it was in his personality circuits to bother seeking merriment in such a manner.

Perceptor found his joy in his lab. In his work. Losing himself deep into equations and questions that would never find their way through the CPU of the average mech.

That wasn't to say it wasn't annoying, however, especially when the scientist started using words that were archaic, even by his standards. Prime was no slouch when it came to vocabulary. Before he was Prime, before he found himself running headfirst into battle, before he found himself sitting on this ruined world pondering their next steps, he had been Orion Pax, and Orion Pax had spent a lot of time pouring over old data files, learning new, or rather old, words. So, he could oftentimes easily match the perspicacious scientist.

So, it wasn't with any exaggeration that he realised he'd never seen Perceptor like he had now, or rather, never heard him.

He was essentially speechless.

His explanation was curt, even if the rudeness wasn't intentional. He was clearly frustrated, or rather, horrified.

And that took a lot to do.

Perceptor had buried himself into some of the most morally repugnant weapons the war had crafted. He'd researched heavily into the devices the humans cooked up. He'd seen, oftentimes first-hand, the results of these arsenals. Everything from cosmic rust to a weaponised strain of Ebola that did the rounds a few years ago. A whoopsie from a human lab operating clandestinely out of Carbombya. Killed all their camels.

"It's most definitely Transformer in origin, but it pre-dates the Autobot/Decepticon civil war by about five million years".

Optimus turned the rock over in his hands, his scanners picking up a few interesting titbits, but not as much as the highly sophisticated ones Perceptor had at his disposal.

"I believe it can be traced to the Quintesson defeat".

"And it's a power core?"

"Correct. From a Y class escape freighter".

"It's certainly seen better days".

"I've ascertained that it was ejected under emergency protocols, hence the groves on the lower edges of the sphere".

Perceptor stepped close enough to the desk that he could easily reach out and touch the core if he decided, instead he simply motioned towards the bottom of the dull rock.

"The particles of concern were trapped in those groves as the core travelled through the earth's atmosphere. The heat was such that the indents melted leaving a sinus where the particles expanded, cooled and then settled".

"Then the core landed on Earth, was buried and essentially fossilised? And you said Miriam located it near Hawaii?"

"Correct, on both counts".

"Miriam's team obviously didn't know what these particles were, or were they simply unable to reach them?"

"I would state that's an appropriate assumption, however, with that said, the samples from New Delhi indicate that humans have a functional knowledge of these particles, likely from an alternate source".

"One source proved catastrophic. Two? Well, that opens it to the possibility that there is more, and that's deeply disturbing to ponder".

"Miriam works for a civilian entity that receives considerable government funding. While she has never discussed the intricacies of the government's oversight in her work, we cannot rule out the possibility that they are acutely aware of this. If they link it to New Delhi, if they link it to Transformers technology… well, that would be quite the diplomatic hinderance. Not to mention the threat it would pose if different strains were weaponised, or they fell into less than stable hands".

"New Delhi showed us, quite explicitly, that there are no stable hands on this planet".

He placed the core on the desk.

"Does she have any idea?"

"I don't believe so. Her numbers would indicate that it could have possibly have once been a power source, but it's extremely unlikely she would have handed it over so freely if her, or her superiors realised what it powered".

"Are you sure about the particles?"

"Very much so. They are, without any doubt, C'sah. This particular sample is unviable in practice, but a clever individual could easily reverse engineer it. We cannot return the core to Miriam".

Prime's expression was unreadable, faceplate or not, his optics gave away nothing. His posture revealing no secret as to his inner thoughts. He had to maintain composure. Even in front of Perceptor, who likely wouldn't pick up on body language cues anyway.

"I had Ratchet view the samples. He concurred. We decided it would be prudent to keep this between us, and obviously, to inform you".

The scientist added quietly.

"Wise decision".

"With that said, I do believe it could be argued that I took it to mean this was a gift. While destruction of the rock would be a shame, Miriam would understand, hold no grudge and quickly move onto other matters".

"What does Beachcomber know of it?"

"I suspect he has considered it's primary purpose, but he's not capable of scanning for C'sah particles, let alone comprehending them if he did pick them up. Concurrently, he does not have the age, experience or education to understand the context of C'sah or its purpose. I am confident to suggest he's no threat in regard to revealing information pertaining to this situation".

"Would he push the matter?"

"No. I don't think so. He may be disappointed for a period, it was something new and interesting, but I don't think he'll give it more processor time than he has already. Of course, a new mission will easily distract him, and the events near Rotorua might be worth his time. There are always alterations in the geographical readings out of the location, even if they would prove less worthwhile to our interests, directing his investigations here will take his attention from the core".

"Cosmos has been doing more runs over the country, we certainly have a lot more data to process".

"Please be advised, I'm not implying Beachcomber could release sensitive information, but his friendship with Miriam is such that it could prove too easy for him to, as they say, let slip, with something that would arouse her suspicion".

"There's never been an antidote, no vaccine, and they very quickly altered form to prevent fatal damage".

"Affirmative".

"Even though the differences between anatomy is great, any information regarding a neutralising agent could prove useful to the humans, both in addressing any future release, or to strengthen it as an offensive strategy. Miriam has always had a place here, and maintains friendships with several Autobots, but her history, and that of her father's, cannot be placed ahead of safety".

Prime stood slowly, regarded the rock on the desk in front of him. His optics narrowed, inwardly furious that this ancient thing now posed a considerable threat to life and security.

"Inform her that unfortunately the rock was significantly damaged during the investigation process, and that the pieces were contaminated with a chemical used to remove the earthen debris".

Perceptor nodded.

"Further, as disingenuous as this is Perceptor, and I will not make this a command, merely a suggestion, provide her with numbers and information that will not guide her anywhere towards the C'sah. Informing her it was a power core could encourage her curiosity, the ship could be within a reasonable location from where this was located".

He picked the damnable thing up and offered it back to the Autobot genius.

"Or it was likely destroyed. A ship is far easier to locate than a rock".

The scientist pointed out.

"Granted, but we can't take the risk. See if you can direct her attentions elsewhere while you're at it. I'm going to discuss the Rotorua situation with Cosmos and then pass on a mission brief to Beachcomber".

"And what would you have me do with the core?"

"Continue your investigations, see if you can identify any possibility that the ship is intact. Hand over the samples of the C'sah to Ratchet. Keep this tight. No one else is to know. That bit is an order".

Perceptor subspaced the core.

"I'm going to dig a little deeper into the archives, I'll inform you if I find anything of note".

Optimus walked towards the door, unlocking the panel and gave a polite motion for the scientist to leave him, and as socially unaware as he could be, he understood and left.

Prime stood by the closed panels for several moments. His CPU whirling with thoughts he hadn't considered in millions of years. A passing conversation with an old friend, a mentor, a father.

We knew it would have consequences beyond this world, we knew that. We debated for cycles whether we should destroy every piece of evidence pertaining to it. We spoke of ways to contain it on Cybertron. Yet, we were afraid, Orion, afraid of those consequences. What if they returned? What if they found a way to turn it back against us? What if an organic species out there, deep in the bowels of space stumbled upon it?

The remaining few samples were stored deep in the hold of that freighter. Launched without any fanfare or attention. The pilot was a drone programmed with one intention and one only, get through the deep space bridge, crash into a foreign and empty world. A dead world. No organic life. No chance of evolution shoving some single cell out into sentience. No chance of them ever finding it. Let that deceased world wrap the ship in its dust, burry it forever, away from prying optics.

He had tracked it for vorns, through the bridge, and deep into space uncharted by their science. He had kept watch on the ship's fuel reserves. It had an experimental core, one that was self-sustaining, that would never need maintenance or refuelling in any way. It'd continue until the entire ship was destroyed.

Then one day it disappeared from his scans.

It could have been that it had reached the limits of those scans, or it had met its end somehow. Perhaps crashing into a sun. Maybe a passing asteroid had ploughed through it. Maybe pirates had found it. Or it had been pulled down by gravity onto some unassuming world, long since deceased.

He had shared with Orion which one he longed for, but the answer he would never have.

It was Optimus who now had that information.

Alpha Trion was deep within the cortex of Victor Sigma, deep beyond his reach now.

He wondered if A3 would acknowledge any responsibility for this. Of course, the mentor had never indicated which way he voted. Had he been one to push for its exile from Cybertron, or perhaps he advocated for its outright destruction?

Would he mourn the humans that damn gas had killed?

Or would he wash his hands of it?

It was, after all, the humans who had weaponised it, not that it would be hard for them to do. It came into existence with the sole purpose of being a weapon.

C'sah was a curse word in their lexicon now. Very few knew of its etymology.

"Primus' damn it".

He whispered to no one.