Autobot or Independent.

Autobot?

Or Independent?

It was the Cybetronian equivalent to the Shakespearian question of "to be or not to be." To live in other words, 'to be.' Or to die, as in 'not to be.' The question chased round and round my processor as Charlotte and I attended our British literature class together. The topic was the seventeenth century fiction called 'Hamlet' and our teacher had written that haunting phrase above across the chalk board before we filed in and took our seats.

A quick cross check on the web told me that the type of fiction was referred to as a 'play.' It made me wonder if the title's origin referred to children's games. Did not human children run around and pretend or 'play' at being something other than they were? Did not humans 'play' characters when dancing across the stage in order to entertain each other?

Did not I, myself, interact in a form of theatre play when pretending to be what I am?

To be, or not to be.

Autobot, or Independent.

The weight of this question was enough to sink my emotional state. For certainly my choices of continued existence did not narrow themselves into two finite points of destiny, did they? Would I really be required to rejoin a war that I did not believe in? And if I did select a side, would my past really come up, or was it washed away as Optimus Prime had said? Did he even have the power to grant such immunity? Would the other Autobots follow his lead blindly and allow me to join their ranks without prejudice?

Other decepitcons certainly would not have done such a thing! In fact, the Decpticons would—

No, it was time to stop thinking what a Decepticon would do. It was time to think what I would do. Optimus Prime had said so. And I knew now that he wasn't the boogeymech I had been taught to fear my whole life. So I had to wonder if all other things I had taken as pure logical truth were not, in fact, lies. Bumblebee and Hound were good and kind instead of the mindless assassins I had faced on the battlefield. Ratchet had not scavenged me for parts. And Optimus Prime had not branded me an Autobot against my will.

Epiphany after epiphany, all neatly tied into a few hours of conversation.

To be or not to be.

Autobot or Independent.

"I love this version of the movie," Charlotte leaned over to whisper in my audio receiver. "Don't you think Mel Gibson is heavenly? At least he is here before he loses his mind later and does some really horrible movies."

I nodded and giggled with her when she did. I supposed, for a human, this Mel Gibson person was attractive. His facial symmetry was nearly equal on both sides of his face, and research had told me this was the key to pleasing appearances. Very different from a Cybertronian view of beauty. Ours were based on the strength of one's spark, the dedication to one's chosen craft. Physical builds were not factors in the selection of a mate.

Take, for instance, a Cybertronian like Hound. He was not large like Ironhide or Optimus Prime. However, the strength of his spark was blinding to my sensors, like watching the nuclear fission of a star without first shielding ones optics with the appropriate filter. He was a mech of worth in my analysis, and given that my frame was so tiny compared to his, to the human eye we would be incompatable—

I froze, my writing instrument nearly dropping from my fingers.

Did I just consider a match with the likes of an Autobot? What that what Charlotte meant when she said she 'daydreamed' about certain boys?

Was I even capable of either? Of both?

To be or not to be.

Autobot or Independent.

To love or not to love…

Charlotte poked me in the side, snapping me out of my revere. The film segment had ended, and we were back into discussion on the meaning behind the scenes we had just watched. I devoted a tiny scrap of my processor to keeping up with the discussion, making notes as was proper and lifting my arm to answer questions when they were asked. The majority of my processors churned in uneasy circles.

It had never occurred to me until that moment that I could have a mate. I had contented myself to having human friends around me for all my existence. Even knowing that their lives burned on such a pitifully short fuse, it was better than an eternity alone. But now… now I was coming to understand that I didn't have to be alone. I didn't have to walk the path of the Independent.

I… I could have a mate. Regardless of if it was or wasn't Hound, I had that option ahead of me.

I… had options.

To be or not to be.

Autobot or Independent.

It was a choice I wasn't afraid to make now.