Work Text:
The announcement came during what should have been a routine tactical briefing.
"I am instituting a mandatory educational initiative," Shockwave intoned, his singular optic fixed on the assembled Decepticons with the kind of focus usually reserved for dissecting organic specimens. "The objective is to enhance cultural intelligence through analysis of human literature. Attendance is mandatory."
The silence was profound.
"A what," Starscream said flatly.
"A book club. We will read and analyze human literature to enhance cultural intelligence. Attendance is mandatory."
"You can't be serious."
"I am entirely serious." Shockwave produced a stack of datapads with the careful precision of someone who'd clearly been planning this for far too long. "Cultural understanding increases tactical efficiency by twelve point three percent. Studies confirm—"
"Studies," Starscream hissed. "What studies?"
"My studies."
"Your studies don't count!"
Shockwave's optic brightened fractionally, which those familiar with him recognized as smugness. "On the contrary, my studies are the only ones that matter as I conducted them personally."
From his position at the head of the table, Megatron cycled his optics in what might have been exhaustion or resignation or both. "Shockwave, explain the parameters of this... initiative."
"Weekly meetings of one mega-cycle duration for the purpose of analyzing and discussing human literary works." Shockwave began distributing the datapads with methodical efficiency. "Beginning immediately."
"Immediately as in—"
"Now. Conference room B. I have prepared refreshments."
The Decepticons exchanged glances that ranged from bewildered to horrified. Thundercracker looked cautiously intrigued. Skywarp looked ready to teleport through the nearest wall.
Starscream's wings shot up. "I refuse to—"
Megatron's servo came down on the table with a decisive thunk. "You'll attend, Starscream. All of you will. Shockwave has been lobbying for this project for three deca-cycles and I've run out of excuses to deny him." He fixed his Second with a look that promised retribution. "Besides, it might be... educational."
The way he said 'educational' suggested he doubted this extremely, but was willing to let Shockwave discover it himself.
"Lord Megatron, surely you can't be serious—"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
Starscream studied his leader's expression. "No, but you never look like you're joking, so that's not a reliable indicator—"
"Conference room B. Two mega-cycles. Dismissed."
****
Conference room B had been transformed.
Standard tactical displays had been replaced with what appeared to be an actual table and chairs—physical ones, sized for Cybertronian frames. Physical books were arranged along the table's surface. Shockwave stood at the head like a very determined, one-eyed professor.
"This is deeply unsettling," Thundercracker muttered, taking a seat.
"This is stupid," Starscream corrected, flinging himself into a chair with maximum drama. "We're warriors, not academics."
Shockwave's optic brightened. "Your complaints have been noted and disregarded. We will now begin distribution of materials."
He slid a book across the table to Starscream with the careful solemnity of someone presenting a sacred text. The cover read: The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli.
Starscream picked it up, his optics scanning the title. "The Prince." A pause. "This is about leadership?"
"It is strategic political philosophy, yes."
"I see." Something dangerous flickered in Starscream's optics. "How... appropriate."
Thundercracker received a slim volume of poetry—Frost, judging by the worn spine. He turned it over in his servos with surprising gentleness, already reading the back cover.
Knock Out, who'd tried to skip the meeting and been physically dragged in by Hook, received a glossy magazine titled Vogue.
"This," he said, brightening considerably, "I can work with."
"That's not literature!" Hook protested.
"It absolutely is. Cultural artifact. Visual medium. The photography alone—"
"It's a fashion magazine."
"Fashion is art. Art is culture. Culture is what we're studying." Knock Out was already flipping through pages, his expression rapturous. "Oh, this is magnificent. Look at this fabric work. Shockwave, I take back every complaint. This is inspired."
Hook received a technical manual on human structural engineering. He flipped it open, scanned exactly three pages, and looked up with his most condescending expression. "Primitive."
"Your assessment is premature," Shockwave replied. "I suggest you reserve judgment until you have completed the text."
"I've seen enough. The load calculations are off by—"
"Reserve your judgment."
The new recruit vehicon—who'd recently designated himself as Mainframe but whom everyone had already started calling "the kid"—received a thin book with bright illustrations on the cover. He held it up, confused.
"Is this... a children's book?"
"Correct," Shockwave confirmed. "It is a calibration text for assessing baseline comprehension of human narrative structure."
Mainframe opened to the first page. A cartoon bear shared honey with a rabbit. "The moral is... sharing?"
"That is one possible interpretation."
"Is that relevant to war?"
Shockwave's optic brightened. "A fascinating question. We will discuss during the analysis period."
Starscream groaned. "This is going to be painful."
****
"Each assigned member will present a twenty-cycle analysis," Shockwave announced, pulling up a presentation slide that made several Decepticons want to purge their optics. It was color-coded. With bullet points, and sub-bullet points.
"You made a PowerPoint," Thundercracker said, voice flat with disbelief.
"Correct. Organization increases efficiency."
"It's a book club, not an orbital assault."
"The difference is minimal."
Skywarp, who'd been attempting to nap in the corner, jerked awake. "Wait, we have to actually talk about this stuff? I thought we just had to show up."
"Participation is mandatory. Questions and commentary are encouraged."
"But I didn't get a book," Skywarp protested.
"You were not assigned reading material. Your role is observational participation and discussion contribution."
"So I just sit here?"
"Correct."
"That's the best news I've heard all cycle." Skywarp settled back into his corner, clearly preparing to resume his nap.
"Departure or unconsciousness will be noted in your file and reported to Megatron," Shockwave added.
Skywarp's optics snapped open. "I hate you so much right now."
"Your emotional state has been noted. Starscream, you will begin."
****
Starscream stood with the confidence of someone who'd already decided he was the main character of this scenario. "Since I've clearly been assigned the most sophisticated text."
"Sophisticated," Hook muttered. "It's a treatise on backstabbing and manipulation. Of course you'd think it's sophisticated."
Starscream ignored him.
"This text," he began, voice rising with theatrical fervor, "is a revelation. Niccolò Machiavelli understood what so few leaders comprehend: that power is not inherited or deserved, but taken and held through calculated action."
"Oh no," Thundercracker muttered.
"So it's a manual for being terrible," Skywarp summarized from his corner, briefly rousing from his semi-conscious state.
"It's a manual for being effective." Starscream began pacing. "The Prince must be willing to set aside conventional morality for the greater good. He must be feared rather than loved, for love is fickle and fear is reliable. He must eliminate rivals preemptively. He must never show weakness."
Starscream's wings flared dramatically. "In short, Machiavelli provides a comprehensive framework for effective leadership. Which, I might add, aligns remarkably well with my own strategic philosophy."
"Here we go," Rumble whispered to Frenzy.
"Machiavelli clearly states that a prince who appears strong while acting decisively will maintain power where others fail. The current command structure could benefit from—"
"Starscream," Thundercracker interrupted, not looking up from his poetry.
"—could benefit from a leader who understands these principles—"
"Starscream."
"What?"
Thundercracker finally looked up, his expression patient. "You realize Machiavelli was warning princes about people like you, right?"
Starscream's wings shot up. "Excuse me?"
"The whole point is that rulers need to watch out for ambitious subordinates who think they're clever enough to seize power. He's describing the threat. You're the threat."
"That is a gross misinterpretation—"
"Is it though?"
"Yes! The text clearly states—"
"Chapter seventeen," Shockwave interjected, consulting his datapad. "Machiavelli states that while fear is preferable to love, a prince who makes himself hated invites destruction. Your leadership style, Starscream, would make you profoundly hated."
"My leadership style is effective!"
"Your leadership style involves announcing coups over the general comm system," Hook pointed out.
"That was one time—"
"Three times," Rumble corrected.
From the doorway, unnoticed in the chaos, Megatron had appeared. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable.
"And the point," Thundercracker continued, oblivious, "is that Machiavelli's advice only works if you're subtle. You're about as subtle as a seismic charge."
Starscream sputtered, wings flicking through various positions of indignation. "This is—I am exceptionally subtle—"
"You once tried to overthrow Megatron during a battle."
"That was strategic multitasking!"
"Machiavelli," Megatron said quietly from the doorway, "would have executed you for incompetence before you finished your first coup attempt."
Every Decepticon in the room froze. Even Skywarp's optics snapped to full brightness.
Starscream's wings dropped. "Lord Megatron. I didn't realize you—"
"Clearly." Megatron moved into the room, claiming the seat at the opposite end of the table from Shockwave. "Continue. Don't let me interrupt."
No one moved.
Megatron's optics swept across the frozen Decepticons. "I said continue. Shockwave has been describing this project for deca-cycles. I'm curious to see how it's progressing."
Shockwave's optic brightened. "Your participation is welcome. We will now proceed to the next presentation. Thundercracker, please present your analysis of the assigned poetry."
****
Thundercracker stood, holding his poetry book with surprising care.
"I was assigned Robert Frost," he began, voice quieter than Starscream's theatrical boom. "American poet. Early twentieth century by their calendar. I'm going to read one of the poems."
"Oh good," Starscream muttered, still standing from his earlier presentation. "Poetry. This should be riveting."
Thundercracker ignored him, opening to a marked page. He cleared his vocal processor and began to read.
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth..."
His voice was measured, lending weight to the human words. The room fell silent, even Starscream stopping his sulking to sink back into his chair. Thundercracker continued through the verses, through the choice between paths, through to the final lines:
"I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."
Silence.
Then Skywarp said, "That was... actually kind of good?"
Thundercracker closed the book carefully. "It's about choices. How we tell ourselves that our decisions were meaningful, even when they might have led to the same place either way. The narrator claims taking the less-traveled road made all the difference, but earlier he admits both paths were basically the same."
"So it's about lying to yourself?" Knock Out asked, looking up from his magazine.
"It's about narrative. How we create meaning from our choices retroactively. The road less traveled might not have been less traveled at all, but the narrator needs to believe his choice mattered."
"Depressing," Skywarp observed with a yawn, still slouched in his corner attempting to achieve something resembling comfortable unconsciousness.
"It's honest," Thundercracker countered. "Humans understand something about choice and meaning that we don't often acknowledge. They know they're going to die, so every choice carries weight. We have millions of vorns. When's the last time any of us really thought a choice would define us?"
The room absorbed this in uncomfortable silence.
Shockwave's optic brightened. "Sophisticated analysis. The intersection of choice, mortality, and constructed narrative is relevant to tactical psychology. Well done."
"You actually liked the poetry," Starscream said, sounding betrayed.
"I engaged with the assigned material and developed applicable insights," Thundercracker replied. "You should try it sometime."
"I engaged with my material!"
"You used it to justify your existing biases."
"That's what analysis is!"
"It's really not."
Megatron leaned back in his chair, expression thoughtful. "Frost was lying, of course. His biographers confirm he took the well-traveled road most of the time. The poem is about the stories we tell ourselves to make our ordinary choices feel significant."
The room stared.
"You've read human poetry," Starscream said, sounding personally betrayed. "When?"
"I've been on this planet for stellar cycles. I got curious."
Thundercracker sat down, setting his book on the table with care.
****
Mainframe raised his servo hesitantly. "Can I go next?"
"You may proceed," Shockwave confirmed.
The young vehicon stood, holding up his picture book. Behind him, Skywarp's optics dimmed as he attempted to use the presentation as cover for another nap attempt.
"So," he began, "my book is about sharing. The bear has honey. The rabbit wants honey. The bear shares the honey. They become friends and live happily ever after."
He looked around the table. "That's the whole story."
"Accurate summary," Shockwave confirmed. "Your analysis?"
"Um. The moral is that sharing resources creates alliances? Which would be relevant to war because allied forces are more effective than isolated units?"
"Correct."
"So this children's book about a bear and a rabbit is actually about game theory and tactical cooperation?"
"Essentially, yes."
Mainframe stared at the book, then at Shockwave, then back at the book. "That feels like a stretch."
"Human pedagogical texts often convey complex concepts through simplified narrative structures. The bear-rabbit interaction demonstrates reciprocal altruism, resource distribution benefits, and the cooperative surplus generated through mutual aid."
"It's a picture book about sharing. For children."
"The format does not negate the underlying principles."
Starscream leaned forward, wings perked with malicious interest. "So by Shockwave's logic, we should share resources with the Autobots. Cooperation and all that."
"Context determines applicability," Shockwave replied without missing a beat. "The bear and rabbit are not competing for survival. Resource scarcity and existential conflict create different strategic parameters."
"So sharing is good except when it isn't?"
"Correct."
"That's the worst moral I've ever heard."
"Morality is contextual. Absolute principles are inefficient."
Mainframe slowly sat back down. "I'm more confused now than when I started."
"That indicates successful engagement with complex ethical frameworks," Shockwave said, making a note. "Well done."
"I don't know about that one," Thundercracker muttered.
Megatron's voice cut through. "The rabbit and the bear share resources because they're not competing for survival. If resources were scarce and both needed the honey to live, the story would end very differently." He looked at Mainframe. "Your analysis of tactical cooperation is sound. But remember that cooperation requires aligned interests. The Autobots' interests are not aligned with ours."
"Understood, Lord Megatron."
****
Knock Out stood next, magazine in hand, while Mainframe gratefully sank back into his seat.
"This," he announced, "is Vogue's Spring Fashion Week issue. And it is a masterwork of cultural documentation."
"It's a magazine about dresses," Hook said flatly.
"It's a visual text about social signaling, aesthetic choice, and the semiotics of self-presentation!" Knock Out held up the magazine. "Look at this spread. The construction alone tells you everything about human status hierarchies."
"It's a picture of a dress."
"It's a statement about power, beauty, and resource access! The garment is completely impractical for function, which is exactly the point. Humans signal wealth through conspicuous consumption. The more impractical the clothing, the higher the status it sends."
Shockwave's optic brightened. "Sophisticated analysis. Continue."
Knock Out beamed. "Fashion is fundamentally about communication. Humans can't modify their frames like we do, so they modify their coverings instead. This magazine represents the pinnacle of that practice—garments as art, as statement, as social positioning."
"So it's about showing off," Starscream said.
"It's about tactical self-presentation! Understanding human fashion codes allows prediction of social hierarchy and individual importance." Knock Out flipped through pages. "See this editorial? Evening wear, very specific styling. That's not just aesthetic—it's signaling membership in particular social strata."
"Huh," Rumble said. "That's actually smart."
"I'm always smart."
"You're reading a magazine about dresses."
"I'm analyzing complex cultural signaling systems!"
Hook raised a servo. "I have a question about your 'complex cultural text.'"
"Yes?"
"The binding is cheap. Human book construction is generally inadequate, but magazines are particularly egregious. The paper quality alone—"
"Are you seriously critiquing the construction right now?"
"Someone has to maintain standards. These pages will deteriorate within decades. Possibly less with handling. The entire format is fundamentally flawed."
"They make books for themselves, Hook. We're the anomaly here."
"That doesn't excuse poor craftsmanship."
"It's not—" Knock Out sighed. "You're missing the point."
"I'm identifying relevant technical failures."
Shockwave was typing rapidly. "Both analyses have merit. Cultural content and physical construction both warrant examination. However, we are diverging from core objectives. Hook, your presentation."
Knock Out sat down with a final huff, and Hook stood, technical manual in servo.
"Human structural engineering," he began, "is primitive but occasionally clever. Their inability to manipulate materials at molecular level forces creative problem-solving within severe limitations."
He opened the manual, pointing to a diagram. "This load-bearing calculation, for instance, is crude but serviceable. They compensate for inferior materials through geometric distribution."
"So they're stupid but scrappy," Skywarp summarized from his corner, briefly emerging from his semi-conscious state to contribute before immediately checking back out.
"They're limited but adaptive. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Yes. Stupidity is a failure of processing capacity. Limitation is a constraint of available resources. Humans work within their limitations effectively. That demonstrates intelligence, not inadequacy."
Thundercracker looked surprised. "That's actually insightful."
"I'm capable of nuance."
"Could've fooled me."
"The point," Hook continued, shooting Thundercracker a glare, "is that dismissing human achievements because they lack our capabilities is itself a failure of analysis. They build complex structures with primitive tools. That's worthy of acknowledgment."
"So the book club is working," Mainframe said quietly. "We're learning to not underestimate humans."
"I wouldn't go that far—"
"No, he's right," Thundercracker interrupted. "That's exactly what's happening. We're analyzing their culture and realizing they're more sophisticated than we assumed."
Starscream's wings flicked irritably. "I haven't learned anything except that Machiavelli is underappreciated."
"You learned that you're bad at reading comprehension," Rumble offered.
"I am excellent at—"
"You missed the entire point of the book."
"I extracted strategic principles!"
"You extracted justification for your existing behavior!"
"SAME THING!"
"Gentlemechs," Shockwave interjected. "We are approaching the escalation phase I predicted. Fascinating."
Hook sat down, looking satisfied with the chaos he'd helped create.
****
Starscream stood abruptly. "Since we're analyzing power structures, let's apply Machiavellian principles right now."
"Oh no," Thundercracker muttered.
"Shockwave has positioned himself as intellectual authority. He controls the reading assignments, the discussion format, the evaluation criteria. This is clearly a power play disguised as education."
"Your observation is accurate," Shockwave said calmly. "Your conclusion is not. The purpose is cultural intelligence, not command structure manipulation."
"Exactly what someone attempting manipulation would say!"
"I have no interest in command positions. My function is scientific analysis."
"For now."
"In perpetuity."
Starscream gestured dramatically. "Machiavelli warns that ambitious subordinates will use any opportunity to increase their influence. This book club could be—"
"Could be what?" Thundercracker asked. "A decade-long plot to make us read poetry? What's the endgame here, Starscream?"
"I—" Starscream paused, cycling his optics. "I'm working on that part."
"You're applying a political philosophy text to a literature discussion. Paranoid much?"
"Strategic paranoia!"
"Not a thing."
"It should be!"
Thundercracker sighed deeply. "This is why we can't have nice things."
"Define 'nice things,'" Skywarp asked from his corner, proving he was at least partially conscious. "Because I'm pretty sure sitting in a room arguing about books isn't nice."
"It's better than listening to Starscream's usual complaints."
"Barely." Skywarp's optics dimmed again as he resumed his quest for unconsciousness.
"I do not complain," Starscream protested. "I provide strategic observations about leadership inadequacies—"
"You complain," Hook interrupted. "Constantly. About everything."
"I express legitimate concerns—"
"You whine."
Starscream's wings shot up. "I do not whine!"
"You're whining right now."
"This is—I am not—this is a measured objection to—"
"Whining."
"HOOK I SWEAR TO PRIMUS—"
"An observation," Megatron said quietly, and the room fell silent. "Starscream has successfully demonstrated Machiavelli's point about ambitious subordinates undermining authority through constant challenges."
Starscream froze.
"He has also," Megatron continued, "demonstrated why such subordinates fail. Predictability. Every move telegraphed in advance. Every play obvious to anyone paying attention." His optics fixed on his Second. "Machiavelli would have you executed within a week."
"I... but I was just..."
"Applying principles you don't actually understand? Yes. I noticed." Megatron's tone wasn't angry, just tired. "Sit down, Starscream."
Starscream sat.
Mainframe raised his servo. "Can I ask a question?"
"No," Starscream snapped.
"Yes," Shockwave said simultaneously.
Mainframe looked between them, then forged ahead. "If Machiavelli is about power and the poem is about choices and the bear is about cooperation... what are we actually supposed to be learning?"
Silence.
"Because it seems like we're all learning different things. Starscream learned to justify himself. Thundercracker learned about mortality. Hook learned to respect human engineering. Knock Out learned about fashion. And I learned that children's books are complicated."
He looked at Shockwave. "Is that the point? That there's no single right answer?"
Shockwave's optic brightened considerably. "That is precisely the point. Cultural intelligence requires understanding multiple perspectives simultaneously. The same text yields different insights depending on the analyst's framework."
"So we're all right?"
"You are all engaging with the material. That is sufficient."
"I'm more right," Starscream muttered.
"You're really not," Thundercracker said.
****
The "final analysis phase" turned out to be Shockwave's attempt to synthesize everyone's observations into a coherent framework for cultural understanding. It did not go well.
"Human literature reveals three key patterns," he announced, pulling up a new presentation slide that made Hook groan audibly. "First, an emphasis on individual narrative over collective experience. Second, a preoccupation with mortality and impermanence. Third, sophisticated social communication through aesthetic choices."
"That's what we've been saying for the last mega-cycle," Starscream muttered.
"Correct. I am now organizing those observations into actionable intelligence."
"For what purpose?" Megatron asked, his tone suggesting genuine curiosity.
Shockwave's optic swept across the assembled Decepticons. "Enhanced cultural intelligence increases mission effectiveness by twelve point three percent. Understanding human psychology, social structures, and communication patterns provides tactical advantages in Earth-based operations."
"Twelve point three percent?" Hook asked. "Where does that number come from?"
"My calculations."
"Based on what data?"
"Theoretical projections."
"So you made it up."
"I derived it from logical analysis of probable outcomes."
"THAT'S MAKING IT UP!"
"Gentlemechs," Megatron interrupted. "Regardless of the statistical validity—"
"There is no statistical validity!" Hook protested.
"—Shockwave's broader point stands. Understanding the local population provides strategic benefits. Whether that benefit equals twelve point three percent is less relevant than whether we're gaining useful intelligence."
Shockwave's optic brightened. "Your confirmation is gratifying."
"Don't let it go to your helm."
"That would be impossible. My helm contains only my optical sensor. Pride would require additional neural architecture."
"It was a figure of speech."
"I understand. Acknowledged."
Thundercracker cleared his voice box. "I have an actual question. If we're supposed to be learning about human culture, does that change how we're supposed to interact with them? Like, if we understand them better, are we supposed to... treat them differently?"
The room went quiet.
It was Mainframe who spoke up, his voice uncertain but sincere. "The bear shared honey with the rabbit. They became friends. Is that... is that what we're supposed to learn?"
"No," Shockwave said. "The bear-rabbit dynamic exists in a resource-abundant environment with no conflict over territory or survival. The current situation is different."
"But we're trying to understand them," Mainframe pressed. "Why understand something if it doesn't change how we act?"
No one had a good answer for that.
Megatron leaned forward, his optics steady on the young vehicon. "Understanding an opponent doesn't require sympathy. It requires clear assessment of capabilities, motivations, and likely behaviors. We study human culture because we operate in their environment. That understanding makes us more effective, not more compassionate."
"Oh," Mainframe said quietly. "Right."
Thundercracker looked troubled but said nothing.
"However," Megatron continued, and something in his tone shifted fractionally, "understanding often precedes respect. Not sympathy. Not friendship. But recognition that even limited beings can create something worth acknowledging." He gestured to the books on the table. "These texts exist because humans, despite their brief lives and fragile bodies, insist on creating meaning from chaos. That persistence has strategic implications beyond simple tactical advantage."
"Such as?" Starscream asked, genuinely curious for once.
"Such as never underestimating an opponent who refuses to quit despite overwhelming odds. The Autobots ally with humans not because humans are powerful, but because humans are stubborn. Poetry and engineering manuals and fashion—all of it represents a species that builds culture in the shadow of certain extinction. That's not weakness."
Silence settled over the room, thoughtful and strange.
Shockwave broke it. "The philosophical implications have been noted. I suggest we return to practical analysis—"
"No," Megatron said. "We're done for today."
"But the session has seventeen cycles remaining—"
"We're done, Shockwave. You've accomplished your objective. They've engaged with the material. They've discussed cultural frameworks. They've even learned something, whether they admit it or not." Megatron stood, the gesture clearly dismissal. "Schedule the next meeting for next deca-cycle. Same format."
Shockwave's optic dimmed, then brightened. "The experiment was successful?"
"Successful enough."
"That is gratifying."
"Dismissed."
The Decepticons fled the conference room with the desperation of students escaping class, leaving only Shockwave to collect his materials and Megatron still standing at the table.
"You enjoyed that," Shockwave observed.
"I tolerated it."
"I detected an emotional response indicating satisfaction."
"Your emotional detection protocols need recalibration."
"I have recorded the response for future analysis. The timestamp is available upon request."
Megatron's optics dimmed in what might have been amusement or exasperation. "Dismissed, Shockwave."
"Acknowledged." Shockwave paused, optic brightening fractionally. "For the record, the experiment exceeded baseline projections."
"I noticed." Megatron moved toward the door, then paused. "The next session. Include something challenging. They're smarter than they pretend."
"Understood."
****
In the rec room, the Decepticons had gathered for their traditional post-meeting processing, which mostly involved complaining and comparing notes.
"I can't believe we have to do that again," Starscream groaned, sprawled across two chairs in a position of maximum dramatic suffering.
"I thought it was interesting," Thundercracker said quietly.
"You would."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're the only one who actually enjoyed reading poetry like some kind of—"
"Careful," Knock Out interrupted, examining his finish in a reflective surface. "Some of us also enjoyed our assignments. The magazine was genuinely informative."
"It was a fashion magazine!"
"Which I analyzed with sophisticated cultural approach!"
"You looked at pictures!"
"I engaged with visual media as a complex text requiring interpretation and contextual understanding!"
Hook groaned. "We're going to have to do this every week."
"Apparently," Rumble confirmed. "Boss man said schedule the next one."
"Did he look mad?" Frenzy asked.
"Nah. Looked kind of... I don't know. Interested? Maybe? Hard to tell with the boss."
From the corner, Mainframe spoke up. "Can I ask you guys something?"
The veterans turned to look at him.
"Do you think the bear and rabbit thing actually applies? Like, could we cooperate with the Autobots if resources weren't scarce?"
Silence.
Then Rumble said, "That's a heavy question for a book about sharing."
"I know. But Shockwave said the bear and rabbit aren't competing for survival. What if we stopped competing? Would we be friends?"
"We're not gonna be friends with the Autobots," Frenzy said flatly.
"But why not?"
"Because we're at war."
"But why are we at war?"
No one had a good answer for that.
Thundercracker closed his poetry book carefully. "The road less traveled. We made choices a long time ago. Now we tell ourselves those choices mattered, that they made all the difference. Maybe they did. Maybe they didn't. But we're on this path now."
"Can we change paths?"
"I don't know. That's a question for someone with more rank and fewer doubts."
"You have doubts?"
"Everybody has doubts. They just don't talk about them."
The conversation devolved from there, spiraling into increasingly absurd territory as Decepticons did what they did best: turned serious topics into chaos through sheer determination and poor impulse control.
****
Later, after the rec room had emptied and the night cycle settled over the Nemesis, Thundercracker found himself alone with his poetry book.
He opened it again to "The Road Not Taken," reading through the verses one more time. Then he flipped forward to another poem Shockwave had marked. "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening."
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
He thought about Megatron's expression during the discussion. The way his leader had looked almost... contemplative. Aware of time passing and battles stretching into an endless future.
They'd been fighting for millions of vorns. How many more miles before they could rest? How many more promises to keep, debts to settle, battles to fight?
The first poem had been about choices and the stories they told themselves about those choices. This one was about duty. About the weight of obligations that kept you moving forward even when you wanted to stop.
The humans knew they were temporary, so they wrote like it mattered. Like every word might be the last thing they left behind. Like the journey itself was worth documenting, even if the destination remained unclear.
Maybe that was what they needed to remember. That even immortal beings should think about the path they were on. That the miles mattered, even if the end seemed impossibly far away.
Thundercracker closed the book and stood, tucking it under one arm.
The war would continue tomorrow. It always did.
But maybe—maybe—they could be different because of it.
One powm at a time.