The small group of Autobots stood aside respectfully as their leader rushed into the room. Despite his hurry, he still managed to retain his calm composure that had gotten their faction through so many tough times. “I came as soon as I heard,” Optimus said, looking at the prone figure on the medical berth with concern. “How bad is it?”
“It's not as bad as it looks,” First Aid replied with the same air of calmness. “The crisis point has passed. He's lost a bit more fuel than we would have liked, but he's already on the road to recovery. In fact, he should regain consciousness in about one Terran day.”
“That's good news,” Optimus mused, stroking his chin absentmindedly. “I'm glad to hear that our young friend is doing well. However, I don't understand the urgency that you showed when you summoned me. Is there something else that requires my attention?”
“Erm, you could say that,” Ultra Magnus said slowly, wondering how to broach the subject. “You see, we discovered something out of the ordinary when Hot Rod's schematics were displayed. There were quite a few distinct features, that, well….” His voice trailed off, suddenly unable to form the all-important words. He looked desperately at the medical officers for help.
“If you would look at the screen, sir,” First Aid picked up smoothly, covering for his superior's fumbling, “I think you will see something interesting.”
Optimus complied politely, his impatience beginning to show. “I don't have very much time in my schedule to review internal schematics,” he said firmly. “Perhaps if you sent me a briefing about it….” His voice trailed off as he stared at the screen. “What is that?” he gasped.
“Well, the one on the left is your schematics,” the Protectobot explained. “The one on the right is Hot Rod's.”
“Is it usual for two Transformers to share such similar schematics?” the Autobot leader inquired, his impatience vanishing. This clearly required his attention.
“Not for your average assembly-line robot,” Ratchet told him. “Except for certain exceptions, such as “brothers” like Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, and the Autobot and Decepticon clones, Cloudraker and Fastlane, and Pounce and Wingspan, each Transformer has certain characteristics that are unique. These exceptions are, of course, the result of purposely altering their schematics.”
“The only way such similarities could occur would be through a natural procreation process, where the schematics of two parental units are used to create a third entity.”
“Are you saying…” Optimus said slowly, trying to grasp the situation, “that I had a hand in Hot Rod's creation somehow?”
“That's right!” Ratchet exclaimed, grasping his friend's hand and pumping it vigorously. “Congratulations, you're a father!”
“Father?!!” The world around him suddenly turned grainy, and he swayed on his feet. Ultra Magnus and Kup raced to brace him. “I don't understand,” he said weakly. “How could such a thing happen?”
The others struggled to contain their grins. Despite the seriousness of the situation, his question was rather funny. “Well,” Ratchet said, deadpan, “it goes like this. When a mech and a femme are really, really in love, sometimes they get together and go through a certain process that very rarely, in our species, results in procreation.”
“I KNOW about that!” Optimus growled.
“Obviously,” Magnus muttered, trying to suppress his chuckles.
“There's just one thing,” First Aid said cautiously, not wanting to make a bizarre situation even worse. “We compared Hot Rod's stats to Alita One's, in the hopes of identifying his maternal progenitor. There was no match.”
It took a few moments for the implication to sink in. Everyone looked at Optimus askance. The Autobot leader felt distinctly uneasy under all the scrutiny. “But that's impossible!” he exclaimed. “I've never had relations with anyone but--- oh Primus,” he sighed. “I had forgotten all about that.”
“Guess it wasn't very memorable,” Kup whispered to Magnus, who covered his mouth to hide his grin. It wasn't very often that Optimus served as such an amusing target of their jokes.
“So what about Hot Rod?” the Autobot leader asked pointedly, trying to direct unwanted attention away from himself. “Is he going to be all right? Could I stay with him?”
Ratchet sobered, recalling his patient. “He's stabilized now. He won't be coherent until sometime tomorrow, but you are welcome to stay with him, if you like. We'll just wheel him in to post-op and get everything set up.”
“Thank you, Ratchet,” Prime said gratefully, giving the others a baleful glare. “Now, don't the rest of you have work to do? If not, I'm sure I could arrange something. The waste disposal units could use some scrubbing,” he said pointedly. His audience grimaced and quickly hurried away, not willing to further provoke him.
“I can't believe it,” he muttered, watching the two medics wheel the damaged Hot Rod into the post-op room. “I'm a father!”