A Prime Candidate.

Summary: When Optimus calls Sam to the Autobot Base, he has no idea that his life, already changed, is about to change yet again. WARNING: REVENGE SPOILERS!

Rating: K+

Warnings:Major Plot Spoilers for Revenge Of The Fallen, and it may also not quite make sense unless you've seen the second movie.

Disclaimer: Transformers and all related characters belong to Hasbro and Dreamworks/Paramount, not me.

A/N: Thanks to Graycalls for pointing out that the original number of Primes was seven, not thirteen as I had stated in this story.

LAST WARNING-THIS STORY CONTAINS MAJOR PLOT SPOILERS FOR REVENGE OF THE FALLEN!

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

A Prime Candidate.

When Bumblebee told Sam that Optimus wanted to see him, Sam sighed a little.

"Bee, I'm supposed to be studying here at college, not rushing off every time Optimus calls for me. And you're not supposed to be here at all. I told you, freshmen aren't allowed their own cars." As he looked down at the yellow Camaro, he supposed he should consider himself fortunate that his Autobot friend was still in car form.

"Sam, Optimus said he wouldn't have bothered you if it wasn't important. You've got reading week coming up, you'll be going home to visit your parents, and Mikaela of course, but it'll only take a few hours," the Autobot scout said. His voice turned coaxing. "If you want, I can go round the block for a bit and pick you up tonight. You can be back with your parents tonight instead of waiting till tomorrow for Ron to pick you up."

Sam chuckled, knowing that Bumblebee had won. "Bribery, huh? Well, okay, I guess there is that, and it's worth it. Give me time to finish classes, and then pack, and I'll be with you. Say about six?"

Bumblebee beeped his horn twice in agreement and Sam pulled his head back in to the room he no longer shared with Leo. The other student had gone on his holiday earlier, frazzled by the events in Egypt not so long ago.

So several hours later, Sam was sat in Bumblebee's driving seat, wondering what Big Boss 'Bot wanted with him now. It was so strange, Sam reflected. In the past three years he had fought alongside giant robots against other giant robots, killed one with a mysterious artefact, seen Optimus Prime killed, almost died himself, spoken with the ghosts of twelve dead Primes, and brought Optimus back to life with the re-formed Matrix, which by his actions he had earned, and kept his girl. And, oh yeah, in those three years, saved his planet twice.

Pretty good going for a nineteen-year-old, he figured, grinning to himself. Still, he wondered what Optimus needed him for. None of the surviving Decepticons had been heard from since fleeing after the defeat of The Fallen, the renegade ex-Prime who had betrayed his six brother Primes while trying to harvest the energy of Earth's Sun, an action that would have doomed the fledgling ecosystem of the planet. Sam just hoped that the Decepticons had not returned in force or something. He'd already missed too much college over the last incursion.

They drew into the courtyard of the Autobot base, and he got out of Bumblebee, who transformed and took him in his hands to carry him through the oversized corridors to Optimus' office. When Bumblebee went in and deposited Sam on the desk, the human noticed that Optimus was holding the beautiful but alien piece of crystal and metal known as the Matrix Of Leadership.

"Sam, please sit down." Optimus intoned as he fiddled with the Matrix, held between one thumb and forefinger. Looking to one side, Sam saw a comfy-looking armchair had been put on the desk, presumably for him. He sank into it with a sigh.

"Okay, Optimus, what's this all about?" he said.

"Sam, not long after you returned to college, I was contacted by the spirits of the Dynasty Of Primes via the Matrix. They told me they wanted to speak to you. I told them it would have to wait until you had a break. They were agreeable, but now you are on break, and now you are here. They wish to speak to you now." Optimus held out the sparkling Matrix towards Sam.

Sam eyed it warily. Every time he held awesome alien objects of power, something spectacular, and not always good, tended to happen.

"They want to talk to me? What about?" Sam asked.

"They did not tell me, but they insisted it was important," Optimus said. Sam still did not take the Matrix, mulling over the conversation the Dynasty Of Primes, as the six called themselves, had had with him as he lay between life and death on the sands of Egypt.

They had claimed to be watching him for a long time, that he knew neither his true past or future, or some such mumbo-jumbo. How they had claimed that he had earned the Matrix, due to his selfless desire to use it to restore Optimus to life. Perhaps they might answer his questions this time rather than speak in riddles. Maybe that was why they had wanted to speak to him, to explain what they had said. Sam nodded to himself, and reached out to take the Matrix from Optimus.

It began to glow, the glow briefly lighting up Sam's figure, then Sam seemed to go into a trance, to zone out as the Primes made contact.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

White light.

As before, that was the first impression he had when he opened his eyes. As before, the figures of the six beings who comprised the Dynasty of Primes seemed to form out of that light as the immense beings stood in front of him.

In physical form, they resembled The Fallen, it seemed the first seven Primes had all been given the same basic frame, but the looks they levelled on him were very different to the malevolent glare of the renegade ex-Prime. He also noticed differences in the heads of the six, they all differed very slightly from each other, and from The Fallen.

"You're all Primes, right?" he asked.

"That is correct," one of the six identical-looking mechs said.

"Then - well, Optimus is a Prime too, right? How come he looks so different?" Sam asked.

"We are still in protoform, we had no need or desire to take an alt form," said another. "Plus, Optimus Prime is a much later model. We and the Fallen were the first of all the Cybertronian people. Later models have been upgraded and diversified. Your Optimus Prime is young, by our standards, although you are younger still."

"Okay, I guess that explains it. I must say I'm glad Optimus looks like he does, no offence intended to you, but your forms are rather alien and kinda scary-looking," Sam said.

"Your preference has been noted," another said.

Sam wondered briefly what that was supposed to mean, it would not have been the way he put it, but he had a more important question.

"You wanted to speak to me. Optimus said you said it was important," Sam said. "Well, here I am. What is so important?"

"We are concerned that had you not been so resilient and persistent, The Fallen might have achieved his aim, having destroyed the last Prime, the last person out there who could defeat him. Having only one living Prime is a great risk," one of them said. "Although The Fallen is defeated, there are others out there who might try to emulate him, others who are powerful, against whom only a Prime may prevail."

"Oo-kaay," Sam said slowly, wondering where this was going.

One of the figures spoke again - Sam had lost track of who had spoken before.

"Another Prime is needed. Those born with the potential are few and far between, and most are too far from the Matrix for them to be Primed right now."

"Well, I guess more Autobots will be coming," Sam said. "Perhaps one of them will be suitable?"

"Not soon enough," one of the others said.

"Also, unnecessary when one with the potential stands before us," another stated.

Sam looked around behind him, expecting to find another figure behind him.

"Huh? He or she does? Where?" he asked. None of them answered, but as Sam turned to face them again, he found twelve pairs of optics looking at him. For a moment, he looked at them in confusion, and then realisation came over him.

"You mean - but - hey, nonononono!" he said. "I have my own life to live, I'm just Sam, an ordinary human boy, just a normal nineteen year old kid, you can't be considering me?"

"You are far from 'ordinary' and far from 'normal,'" one of them said. "We told you we have been watching you both in the past and all possible futures for a very long time. You have earned the approval of the Dynasty of Primes, the AllSpark Essence, and the Matrix itself. Approval by two is enough to justify a Priming. Approval by all three is almost unheard of, although your Optimus was also Primed on the approval of three."

"Um, I'm sorry to throw a possible spanner in your works, guys, but there's kinda a species issue? I'm organic, you're metal. I have a heart, you have Sparks. My lifespan is far shorter than yours. I'm a human, not a Cybertronian."

"That can be remedied," said another of the departed Primes. Before Sam could say anything more, his vision blanked out as his consciousness disappeared into the whiteness, on the way back to his own body.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Bumblebee and Optimus stood watching Sam, who had been quiet for quite some time. As they watched, the Matrix pulsed, and then a bright, blinding flash forced both Autobots to throw up heavy filters and then shutter their optics completely. Once the afterimage had vanished from their optical filters, and they chanced opening their optic shutters, they both simply stared at where Sam was lying, or at least the large mech that was lying where Sam had been. Optimus looked at Bumblebee, stooping to take the Matrix from where it lay in the palm of one large green hand.

Optimus himself fell into a trance, as Bumblebee crouched by the blue, white and green mech who was twice as tall as he was.

"Sam?" he asked. "Is that you?"

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

"Sam? Is that you?"

Bumblebee's voice roused Sam, pulling him out of the light. He opened his eyes, although it didn't quite feel right. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a strange whirring noise. He settled for nodding an affirmative towards the concerned face of Bumblebee hovering over his own, hot blue optics even wider than usual. Bumblebee put an arm around him and helped push him to a sitting position.

Recalling something the Destiny of Primes had said about the difference of appearance, Sam put his strange big metal hands to his face and felt over his head. He felt some antennae, some ridges that seemed sensitive, but he was relived that the Dynasty had kept their word about taking his preference into account. As far as he could feel, his head did not resemble theirs, at least not in shape or length.

Optimus abruptly seemed to come out of his trance, placing the Matrix back into a subspace pocket. He nodded to Sam.

"The Dynasty of Primes have explained to me what has happened to you, that you have been chosen to be Primed." Optimus allowed Bumblebee to let out a surprised warble at the news before continuing.

"They apologise for inconveniencing you, but they said the need is great. I am to be your mentor. Allow me to be the first to congratulate you, Sam." He paused. "Or maybe you should now be addressed as Witwicky Prime."

Sam's only response was to groan.

"Are you okay?" Bumblebee asked. Sam opened his mouth, and although all that came out at first was a few squeaks and whirrs, he finally managed to form words.

"'M fine." He paused.

"Just wondering how I'm gonna explain this to my parents."