June 25, 2013...

When an objection is sustained, the offending words are to be stricken from the record. However, human minds are not impervious to independent thought; whatever was said sticks in the minds of the jury and as well as the judge, because even a man such as he is merely human. I know this as well as the prosecutor does, and we are both extremely aware of the effect his non-existent speculation is having on the courtroom.

"Let me phrase it this way, then," he continues, feathers unruffled. He finally asks the question he has meant to pose all along: "Have you ever witnessed Autobot Ratchet use illegal methods to heal a human -- any method unapproved by the FDA?" The other way simply made a bigger impact.

I give my answer without hesitation. "No."

He would have been better off asking if Ratchet had ever used illegal methods to heal people.

The man changes tactics and decides to move forward in subject matter. "When did you first become aware of the classified international program 'Nonbiological Extraterrestrial Species Team', also known as NEST?"

- o - o - o - o - o - o - o -

T H R E E

- o - o - o - o - o - o - o -

July 8, 2010...

"Greetings, Alexis Reed," the robot said in a soothing bass. "I am Optimus Prime. It appears you have some questions about Sam's unique condition."

It was overwhelming, how precise and to the point it -- he -- was. I was still trying to come to terms with the fact that cars could unfold into strange bipedal... things. How it -- he -- expected me to overcome the terrible shock so quickly was unimaginable. The only thing my brain could manage was nodding. Speech was temporarily unavailable.

"Easy, big guy," Sam said to Optimus, placing a tentative hand on my shoulder. "Hey, Alex, are you okay?"

Its -- his -- blue helmet almost scraped the ceiling. Every so often the metal plating surrounding its eyes would shutter in a motion reminiscent of blinking. It made him seem marginally less frightening, so I gathered what little courage I possessed and spoke. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Just a little surprised."

Optimus chuckled, and the sound carried throughout the hangar. "It is not an unusual reaction to our presence."

"How many people know about you?" The query escaped before I could stop.

"Before we get into all that," Sam jumped in, "why don't we sit down and talk about what exactly they are and why they're here?" He looked up at Optimus for approval, which the giant granted with a single nod.

"Okay," I agreed.

A few feet away, a man winked into existence -- as in, one moment the space was empty, the next second it wasn't. His form flickered during a few brief heartbeats of stunned silence. I jerked involuntarily and clamped down on the urge to scream. Adrenalin rocketed through my veins before I had the chance to rationalize what my eyes were seeing.

"Follow me, please," the man said with Optimus' voice.

I fell into step behind him -- it's a fucking hologram, my frantic mind told me -- and Sam walked beside me. Our path wove between the vehicles, and I eyed each one with suspicion as we passed. We walked calmly passed grunts and men in expensive suits, people who acted as though it were completely natural for three civilians to walk wherever they pleased.

Human-Optimus led us into the second of several empty rooms at the back of the hangar. To my great wonder and curiosity, he not only opened the door but also turned on the light. According to popular science fiction, holograms were incapable of interacting with the environment around them. The mystery of how it was done called to me like a good Sudoku puzzle.

The room was sparse, occupied only by an uncomfortable card table set and a length of countertop with a microwave and coffee machine. A trash can sat in the corner, tucked in the narrow space behind the door. The walls were a grimy color that must have once been white.

"Sit," Optimus instructed. "Do you require any sustenance before we begin? Coffee, perhaps?"

"No," Sam and I responded simultaneously.

We sat down next to each other, while Optimus claimed the seat directly opposite to me. His eyes, an unnatural blue, stared unblinking into mine. Unnerved by his gaze, I looked away within seconds.

A pair of manila folders materialized between his hands. Written in print too neat to be human were our full names. He opened Sam's file first, stared at it for a few moments, and then opened mine. His eyes, though directed at the pages, never moved. "What is your knowledge of Sam's condition, Alexis?"

I fidgeted with the cuff of my shirt before answering. "He cut his hand on glass. I saw the blood. But when I tried to... help, to look at his cut... it was gone. Not even a scratch." I dared a glance into Human-Optimus' eyes. "It was like something out of a sci-fi movie. He has some weird super powers or something."

Sam stayed quiet. Not even a hint of a smile cracked the solemn look on his face. Whatever I had stumbled into, it was too big for even a kid to joke about. Sentient robots did not introduce themselves to people willy-nilly. The sheer magnitude of trust being placed in me was sobering.

Optimus ran a hand over his face and sighed, despite breathing not being a requirement for him. "Before I explain, I must impress upon you how serious our situation is. Your government has been very strict; one of their conditions for giving my people asylum is that our existence remains secret from the civilian population, a rule that has obviously been violated tonight."

"Am I going to get you in trouble?" I asked, both concerned and confused.

A wry smile appeared abruptly on the hologram. "No. We have managed to avoid prosecution, though there are a few stipulations."

"Right, well, before we get into the stipulations," I waved my hands dismissively, "back up and explain to me what exactly is going on. Sam here takes me to this weird military place, shows me some kickass cars, and then 'Oh, sorry Alex, did I mention they're all robots?' What the hell!"

And so he told me everything.

It was almost too much information to take in, but all I could do was sit and listen, enraptured by his words. There was war being waged, and it was older than humanity itself. Too much of a paranoid pessimist to take everything at face value, I tried to ignore the negative spin both Optimus and Sam put on Decepticons -- there were two sides to every story, and even if they were rotten bastards, they had a reason for being that way.

Sam was a hero. He had saved the planet not once, but twice -- and he had done it at the cost of his own life. It was hard to tell if he was stupid, reckless, or incredibly brave. Perhaps it was a mixture of all three.

The government was hesitant to reveal the existence of aliens. An international effort between several countries was the only thing that had kept the reality from the people of Earth when a Decepticon leader had broadcasted himself on live television for the whole world to see.

NEST was a program promoting good faith between Autobots and humans, enabling them to work together against Decepticon forces. Sam and his girlfriend were unofficial ambassadors for Optimus and his team.

The most shocking thing of all?

Sam was a Prime.

And he was immortal.

- o - o - o - o - o - o - o -

to be continued...

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Stuff: Please don't kill me for taking so long to update. I wrestled with this chapter for so long, and got so frustrated... I'm still not happy with it. Don't be surprised if I eventually rewrite it. This is the gist of what's happening, though. In the interst of time, this wasn't beta'ed. My deepest apologies for the wait.