"You can put that gun down anytime you like."

	Trailbreaker looks at Thundercracker and shakes his head.
"Negatori.  You may have somehow swayed Prime, but you still have to show
me a thing or two."

	"Cripes," comes the reply.  "Don't you guys LISTEN to your leader?
Don't you accept his judgment as the best?"

	The Autobot chuckles a little at this.  "Y'see, you still got that
Decepticon mentality goin' here.  Might makes right, don't question the big
cheese, all o' that.  You get a slice of free will around here."

	"Sure doesn't feel like it," Thundercracker mumbles, and trails
off.  The two of them walk down the corridors of the Ark, getting the
newest recruit acquainted with the innards of this gargantuan headquarters.


	"This is Wheeljack's laboratory," Trailbreaker says, indicating a
room to the right.  "Let's see what the nutty professor is up to now."
Opening the door reveals Wheeljack standing at a counter, frantically
mixing chemicals together in a large metal cylinder in front of him.

	"Jetfire!" he shouts, "bring me that flask of deutrillium!  I think
I've almost got it!"  Jetfire, who is working at the other end of the room,
looks up excitedly and roots around on the shelves for the flask.

	"Are we about to witness another amazing scientific breakthrough,
Wheeljack?" Jetfire asks enthusiastically as he finally locates the desired
container.  "Another advancement for all life throughout the galaxy?
Another benevolent triumph-"

	"Quiet, you're screwing up my concentration!" Wheeljack snaps as he
takes the flask from Jetfire's hands.  "This solution, if it works right,
should greatly facilitate our refueling process.  We should be-" -he taps
the top of the flask to allow a small drop of deutrillium into the
mixture-"significantly liberated-"-another drop-"from our dependence on
straight energon..."

	"Really?  How does it work, 'Jack?" Trailbreaker asks, prompting
the two of them to look up, aware of their audience for the first time.

	"Well, it should lower the--"  Wheeljack stops, noticing
Thundercracker.  "Wait a second!  I'm not telling you any of this with that
Decepticon standing right there!"

	"But I'm NOT a Decepticon anymore.." Thundercracker says.

	"Yeah, well, that remains to be seen.  In the meantime, I don't
want any of my projects to be jeopardized by-"- in his distraction,
Wheeljack accidently dumps more deutrillium into his concoction, causing
him to freeze up in panic.  "Jetfire," he says, "I suggest you duck."

	"What?"

	"Duck!"  Wheeljack shouts as he hits the deck.  Jetfire follows
suit obediently as the solution starts to smoke and shudders about in the
cylinder for a moment before erupting all over the work area with an odd
boom, leaving the room a syrupy mess.

	Wheeljack slowly stands up.  "Well, that could have been worse.  It
could have set the whole lab on fire."  Turning towards the door, he gives
Trailbreaker a stern look.  "Listen, it would be best if you two left now."

	"Sorry, 'Jack, I didn't mean--"

	"We'll talk about this later.  Right now I've got a mess to clean
up and a very important project to start over, so if you don't mind--"
Wheeljack's voice takes on an angry tone, and his speech panels begin to
glow a slight red instead of the usual blue, indicating his mood.  He
shoots Thundercracker a disapproving look before he slams the door in his
face.

	Trailbreaker and Thundercracker stand in the hallway for a moment
silently before Thundercracker finally speaks up.  "Pissed him off, didn't
we?"

	"Yeah, well, he usually doesn't get so frazzled."  Trailbreaker
responds.
"My fault again, huh?"

	"Get used to it."  Trailbreaker pauses, and continues.  "At least
for a while.  You still gotta prove yourself to most of us.  Talk is cheap,
ya know.  It's a long and winding road...  the dirt path to heaven, and all
o' that."

	"Yeah, sure,"  Thundercracker says, unfamiliar with some of the
Earthen sayings.  "It's just a bit disturbing to be despised by everyone."

	"Cripes, you were a Decepticon!  Everyone hated you."

	"Well, yeah... I dunno... I guess I just hoped for some magical
redemption or something... I didn't think it would be this tough.  It's
just... a lot to deal with."

	"Must be," comes the response.

	As they move down the corridor, they hear chattering and quick
footsteps approaching them.  Turning the corner, they see two small robots,
one blue and one black, coming down the hallway, enraptured in
conversation.

	"-the guy's a legend, man, how can you say that?"

	"I think psychopathic murder revokes legendhood."

	"Oh, shut up, Rewind.  He didn't do it.  Besides, Ty Cobb was a
bastard.  Babe Ruth was a jerk, too."

	"They're dead.  Pete Rose gambled, and look at him."

	"That's a travesty of justice and you know it.  And so is this."

	"He killed people, Eject!"

	"No he didn't!  The gloves didn't fit!"

	"Cripes, your gullible.  And, hey, even if he didn't do it, he
should've been locked up for beating on her the way he did."

	"Hey, well... the guy ran for two thousand yards in one season!"

	"Yes, I know."

	"Jeez, I mean... didn't you see The Naked Gun?"

	The two of them pass by; their voices fading as the distance
increases, and Trailbreaker chuckles a bit.  "Knuckleheads."

	They continue through the halls relatively silently, with
Trailbreaker pointing out specific areas and sections of the Ark.  After a
time, Thundercracker speaks up again.

	"What was that you said back there, during that interrogation?"

	"What?"

	"You know, that, uh... 'purpose is not to be found here'?"

	"Oh that," Trailbreaker says, matter-of-factly.  "Just kinda
slipped out, you know."

	"Yeah, but what did you mean by that?"

	"What did I mean?  Well... just that... if you're looking for a
sense of meaning here, you're barkin' up the wrong tree."

	"Excuse me?" Thundercracker asks, not understanding the saying.

	"You won't find it here," Trailbreaker clarifies.

	"Why not?"

	"Look, why did you want to leave the Decepticons in the first place?"

	"Well," Thundercracker starts.  "I just couldn't keep thinking that
way anymore.  All the cruelty, the nastiness, insane killing sprees, shit
like that.  I couldn't... live with myself any longer.  I wanted to help
things instead of making them worse."

	"That won't happen much."

	"What do you mean?"

	"Okay," the Autobot explains.  "Let's say that the Decepticons are
attacking San Diego.  Number one, by the time we get the alert and get our
butts down there, they've probably already done serious damage.  Number
two, once we get there, the firefight that follows only causes more damage
and puts more lives in danger.  Friends get killed, humans get killed, and
there's nothing you can do about it."

	"But," Thundercracker protests, "if the Autobots weren't here, the
Decepticons would have conquered the entire planet by now, and many more
lives would be at stake throughout the universe!"

	"Yes, well... that sense of nobility is true to a certain extent,"
he concedes, "but idealism seems to be a lost art these days.  I mean, you
look around here, and you see a bunch of guys two steps away from being
Decepticons themselves.  You see guys who used to be happy-go-lucky and fun
to be around turning into grim, sullen old warriors.  All the spirit sucked
right out of them.  Optimistic crusaders beaten into becoming doomsday
cynics.  It's depressing.  I mean, I do my best to cheer everybody up, but
there's only so much a good one-liner can do, you know."  He cracks a
resigned smile for a moment, and then continues.

	"All this, it eats away at your self-esteem, your self-respect.
There's never any progress in the fight--we're always at a stalemate--and
you never feel like anything is getting accomplished.  All you see is pain
and death.  That's it.  And it gets to you, if you think about it.  It gets
to everybody."

	Trailbreaker pauses, and says "If you're looking for a sense of
purpose, you are not going to find it in war."

	The pit that has formed within Thundercracker swells up as he
listens to this, remembering Dead End's words.  "No, no, I can't accept
that.  We have to be here.  We have to stop the Decepticons from conquering
our freedom.  I mean, we'll sacrifice our lives to keep the rest of the
universe safe from being enslaved...."

	"Yes, I've heard all that before, and who knows, maybe you're
right,"  Trailbreaker says, dismissing him.  The two of them walk down the
corridor for a while longer, pondering to themselves, until the Autobot
speaks again.
	"Consider yourself lucky, Thunder.  Not many people see my dark,
depressing side."

	Thundercracker stops and smiles for a moment.  "Have I made a friend?"

	"Hush now," Trailbreaker says with a grin.  "Listen, do you hear
that music?  Let's go.  I don't wanna mope around about this crap right
now."

	The pair head towards a large room with a heavy beat thumping
within, vibrating the metal beneath them.  Upon opening the doorway, they
see Jazz with his stereo speakers out, blasting some song that seems to
have a constant refrain of "this is how we do it."  Trailbreaker
immediately begins to groove to the sounds, moving out onto the floor with
a few other Autobots, as Thundercracker leans against the wall by the door,
apprehensively.

	"Yeah, 'Breaker!  Get DOWN!"  Jazz shouts above the din.  "Show
Warpath how it's done!"

	"Fuck that shit, Jazz!"  Warpath bellows.  "BANG!  I'll dance
circles around that old timer!  Check this out!  Bam!  Ow!  Zang!  Boom!
Uh!"  He begins to gyrate with rhythmic grunts, looking a little clumsy but
extremely sure of himself.

	"Hey, Air Raid!" Jazz shouts again.  "You better go grab Fireflight
before he smacks his head again!"

	Thundercracker looks, and sees the red and white Aerialbot bopping
his head and jumping around haphazardly, moving towards the wall of the
room and apparently not noticing.  His black and red teammate trots across
the room and corrals him, much to Fireflight's surprise.  They exchange
words that Thundercracker cannot hear over the music, but he doesn't care.
The former Decepticon is starting to feel less like a stranger, and this
little party is lightening his mood and loosening him up considerably.  He
starts to feel the rhythm, and he's about to take his first crack ever at
dancing, until he hears this angry bellow from behind him.

	"WILL YOU TURN THAT RUBBISH OFF?!!!"

	Jazz lowers the volume of his music and everyone in the room looks
towards Mirage, who is standing at the door and fuming.

	"Honestly, I am TRYING to WORK over here.  I have neither the TIME
nor the PATIENCE to suffer through this adolescent disco malarkey that
somehow passes for music.  Take your primitive gyrations somewhere else,
would you please?"

	"Oh, stuff it up your reactor linkage, Mirage," Ratchet snaps.
"Get off your high horse and live a little.  The Ark's a big fuckin' place;
so either join the party and blow off some of that tension that you REALLY
need to get rid of, or just take off and leave the good times to us!"  This
meets a big cheer from the crowd as Jazz cranks up the volume again, much
to Mirage's displeasure.  But the party doesn't last much longer, as each
Autobot comes to a stop in a few moments and begins to leave the room.

	"Hey, what's going on?"  Thundercracker asks.

	"Inter-Autobot radio message," Trailbreaker replies.  "It's time
for the briefing, Thunder."

	"Yeah," Jazz interjects, retracting his speakers.  "It's time to
see if the plans you gave us are the genuine article, or all a part of the
hoax."

	--*THE hoax.  I'd almost forgotten.  I still have something to prove.*--

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