Autobrand Party: The Spy who Loved Me

[Emirate Xaaron-3]

"You've got me..." Emirate Xaaron sets his drink off to the side, "...all wrong."

The Perceptor that he met on Gillanan III was not the first Perceptor to torment him. Rodimus Prime was not the first Prime to bully him. Being physically tortured on a regular basis was new, and it may have deepened his shudders, but still, it wasn't what really ruined him.

Unicron was arriving! He would have been there to destroy wretched Primus and all of Primus's squabbling children, wiping the stain of the Transformers from the universe. Emirate Xaaron's faith would have finally be rewarded, and he could have died knowing that the universe was better off.

Instead, he is here, alive.

If this isn't eternal damnation and divine rejection, he doesn't know what it is.

Emirate Xaaron considers. The weather is horribly trite. He's really sick of talking about his past and his people. After some thinking, he settles on, "What are your likes? What do you enjoy?"

Hopefully, this is a harmless enough thread of conversation.

[Mirage]

Mirage's only answer to the Emirate's assertion is a shrug. Perhaps he draws the wrong conclusions, perhaps not. He did not think he was correct, not entirely. But voicing them led to another bit of information. And Mirage has always liked puzzles.

The Emirate's questions though, amuse Mirage to no end, one browridge goes up and he gives Xaaron a look and a smile that say very clearly, As if you care.

"What do I enjoy? A proper dance with a proper partner, rousing conversation, the hunt and the culmination thereof, challenges, a close race, court intrigue, a good story, and the feel of another in my arms and in my berth. I like a good hound by my side, a fine vintage, and classical music."

Mirage's smile and look turn slightly sad, "Almost all of which are things I have not had the pleasure of in far too long, nor do my prospects for such look promising."

[Emirate Xaaron-3]

Asking about Mirage personally gives a better impression fo caring than asking about the Unicron-forsaken weather does, and by asking about likes, Emirate Xaaron can hopefully avoid the crushing bleakness of reality.

Of course, the walls close in on him, and there is no escape.

He folds his hands and looks away awkwardly. Emirate Xaaron looks back and comments softly, the haunted look in his optics deeper, more set into the lines of his face, "I am sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

He deserves such punishment for trying idle small talk in the middle of a war.

[Mirage]

"There is no harm done in the asking, and I have pried enough into your personal pains for you to be well justified in asking about mine."

Mirage takes up his drink again, a bit more than a sip this time, then shrugs. "Things could be much worse for me than they are at the present, Emirate. I'll lament the life I have lost, perhaps till the end of my existence. But more I will lament the loss of my home, for no matter what outcome the war holds for me, I will never again walk the Cybertron I love. Even if we are somehow returned to our places, it will not be what it was. It hasn't for some time."

The lightness of Mirage tone, the slight smile on his face is completely at odds with his words. He is coming to accept that loss, despite the pain. He can not change the past, and even if he could...he is not certain it would be for the better.

"Please, do not feel that you may offend, if there's something else you'd like to ask me."

[Emirate Xaaron-3]

Emirate Xaaron picks up his drink and twirls in in his hands, staring into it as if he could scry the future. He can't, of course, and he takes a sip.

He comments, "From a logistical standpoint, I should be asking more about the Autobot forces here, their strengths and weaknesses, to see if there is anything here my Autobots would exploit, to see if there is anything that you possess that might be effective against them. Would I be correct to assume that you could not answer such questions?"

He tried small talk, and they are back to the war. It's enough to make one want to swear off conversation as a bad deal.

[Mirage]

Mirage nods, "You would be correct."

He shifts position in his seat again, leaning forward a bit to rest his elbows on his thighs. "I had gotten the impression you were weary of discussing such things. I must confess that I am, at least."

"There are few idle topics now that will not remind of, or turn back to, conflict, sadly. But that is no reason not to attempt them."

[Emirate Xaaron-3]

Emirate Xaaron hates being right, usually, because he's right about pessimistic things, pessimist that he is.

He agrees simply,"I am weary." He was so close to everything he had ever wanted, for his burdens to be lifted!

Emirate Xaaron's expression turns shrewd, and he inquires, "Tell me all your thoughts on God? Because I'd really like to hear them."

It'll be good to know exactly what breed of Primus-worshipper he has inevitably fallen into - will they snap his neck for his heretical faith or merely tar and insulation foam him?

[Mirage]

"God?" Mirage looks genuinely puzzled, "You mean Primus, our purported creator?"

The Council of Ancients kept the myths of Primus as creator alive. They warned of an evil which would have to be faced. But so few mechs actually believed the teachings. As for worshiping him? Some did, certainly. Mirage was not one of them, nor were any in his circle. The Matrix was an object to be revered, respected but other than that....

Yet Mirage will swear by Primus. He recognizes Primus as creator, despite his phrasing, though he could not tell you why. But a god?

"According to the Council's teachings, we were created to oppose an evil. They were teachings I have put little stock in, though recently, I have had cause to consider them again." He spreads his hands, "I am not a religious individual, Emirate Xaaron."

[Emirate Xaaron-3]

Emirate Xaaron points out, "A number of these realities make no mention of Primus. Some were created as consumer goods, others by a mysterious cube. Assuming that you have a Primus would have been more of a stretch than assuming that you have thoughts on God, even if your thoughts are merely, 'I don't think about God.'"

He actually smiles, and he considers Mirage's answer. The 'evil' is most likely Unicron, which makes Mirage nominally an enemy, as far as religion goes, that Mirage has had the story told to him that way. He will need to be careful here.

Emirate Xaaron prods gently, "Not a religious individual, but you would oppose that evil, wouldn't you?"

[Mirage]

"'Good' and 'Evil' are relative concepts defined by the morality of an individual or by society,though it does not follow that the individual's morality and that of his society parallel," Mirage says distractedly, as if the words are from an argument he has had many times.

"Truthfully? I do not know."

[Emirate Xaaron-3]

Emirate Xaaron is smiling again. It's a shy, tentative expression that doesn't seem to belong on his tear-carved face. It tugs at his stitches, and one might be inclined to wonder if it hurts him, to smile so.

He nods, rubbing his chin, and he plucks up his drink to take a sip. Such statements deserve a toast, really. Emirate Xaaron replies, "I agree wholeheartedly. Personally... I wonder. What sort of creator makes his creations to fight - and my kindred, at least, require emotional suppressive circuitry, or we turn into berserkers, so strong is the instinct - makes his creations to fight and then just leaves them to themselves? Without whatever so-called 'evil' around to combat, it would seem inevitable that we would turn on ourselves and anything that got in between us. It seems irresponsible, negligent to me. Of course, I am one to talk about poor planning skills."

He chuckles ruefully.

[Mirage]

Mirage takes a sip of his own drink, pausing to collect his thoughts, to determine what words can be said that will not come back to bite him the aft.

"That is an interesting bit of information. Those of my reality do not have such. Before the war we were at peace if not peaceful, and the gladiator games of the Underground were used as outlets for those with more violent tendencies. The swiftness with which some chose sides once war began, however, was a bit telling."

Mirage shakes his head, then continues, "I would have agreed with you before waking up here. But the situations are the same across too many variations of the theme. The names and players change, but the game remains the same. I am not one to lend credence to the ideas of fate and destiny; however, there is obviously something behind such a struggle, directing it."

"Though admittedly, learning one is but a pawn in a long game is rather...upsetting."

[Emirate Xaaron-3]

Yes, there is a little piece of circuitry in Emirate Xaaron's head that, if broken or removed, will have him acting like a savage killer. It's laughable to think, isn't it? And yet it is true.

He tilts his head and comments, "We never had Underground games. Our games were State-sponsored, each gladiator fighting for the glory of his home."

Emirate Xaaron notes, "I cannot speak for realities without Primus, but I do also have to wonder just what, exactly, did he intend for us to do once we accomplished whatever task he designed us for? He created warriors, and once we have developed a taste for battle, I am not sure that returning to peace will be so easy. Will we fall against each other again? Will we turn our aggression outwards, spreading across the universe like some pernicious weed?"

The thought that they might clearly worries Emirate Xaaron.

[Mirage]

"Unclear," is at first all the answer Mirage gives to Xaaron's many questions.

The pause is perhaps longer than is polite for conversation. It is not that the topic is uncomfortable, but that it has been quite some time since Mirage has conversed on such. And far too often, his opinions did not conform to the majority. Mirage's morality is not so cut and dried as some mech's.

"I maintain that we are beings with free will, for all that we are programmed constructs. We can choose not to fight. We choose instead to continue this conflict and that is sad testament indeed. We can't even allow those who wish it the right to not choose...," a shadow of a memory passes across his face, "that is what makes us less than what we could be. We might well fall again to civil war, if we can't learn from our mistakes.

[Emirate Xaaron-3]

Emirate Xaaron can easily forgive Mirage an impolitely long pause; the spy has otherwise been impeccable with his manners, he has not?

He agrees, perhaps a little more vehemently than he should, "Of course we are being of free will. Some may have that free will limited by overly restricted programming or brainwashing, but on the whole, we are more than input/output machines." Even the thought of a system so orderly crawls under his armour unpleasantly. "As we should be."

Emirate Xaaron amends, "At least, from my perspective. From the perspective of our creator, that may be rather different. I know that Kup's kindred were built as slaves, initially, and given that they have always possessed war-build, I can only assume that some were meant as weapons of war, an ignoble fate to be condemned to, fighting and dying in war not of their own choosing."

He steeples his fingers and concludes, "Just like us."