Author's Notes: Well, as is practically tradition at this point, the ending to "On The Warpath" is a long chapter. It's a good moment to give this fic an ending, but a bittersweet moment as well. This is a story I put a lot of myself into, and one of my favorite Transformers fics (that I've written). I suppose that's because this is a redemption story, and I've always loved redemption stories. I truly do believe that no matter how low a person sinks that as long as they want to do good they can work to be a better person. I hope that those of you that have read this story enjoyed it, and now here's the final chapter of "On The Warpath" :)

Chapter 17

A New Journey

Despite Strider- Oops, Powerglide's extreme makeover, not much changed around the Autobot base for Warpath. Warpath was still stuck with 4 roommates, he was still in a new and euphoric relationship with Moonracer, and he still went out and kicked Decepticon tailpipe whenever they were found snooping in Iacon.

Training used to be the most fun Warpath had in his daily routine, but now he looked forward to the times when that routine would be broken by a stray note near his desk or by an impromptu dinner date. Moonracer seemed to be getting just as swept up as Warpath, which the tank-former found absolutely astounding. He never imagined that a femme of her beauty and intellect could be swept away by anyone, let alone a mech as broken as he was. Oh, he wasn't broken so badly that he cried himself to sleep at night, but he knew there were pieces of him that were gone and couldn't be replaced. He wished he and Moonracer had dated when they were younger. Warpath felt like he was a better person back then.

Of course, his friendship with Powerglide had not changed. While his friend was a blowhard and a bit self-absorbed, Warpath was comforted by the fact that Powerglide never held a grudge and never seemed to change (on the inside). Beachcomber and Seaspray were also the same as they had been when Warpath first met them, and it was a great source of both comfort and fear that his friends stayed his friends. He was comforted because he liked stability. He was afraid because he could still lose them.

The orn was shaping up to be a good one. Optimus had informed them that patrols had found no signs of Decepticons, and on top of that the sky was clear and bright. Daylight wasn't a constant on Cybertron, but they got to see one of their suns on this orn, and it made even the ruins of their city shine in a way that was beautiful.

"Wow, this'll be great weather for flight training!" Powerglide remarked as he stared up at the cloudless sky.

"Cool. You gettin' any better at it?" Beachcomber asked while Seaspray looked down at the ground and all the metallic litter, "I'll bet flyin's awesome. Many of my bird friends have told me it's a lot of work though."

"Maybe, but nothin's too big for ole Powerglide!" Powerglide boasted, "Hey, I know what we should do! Since we got the orn off, we should find Warpath and go to the salt fields together. We can build salt fortresses!"

"Yeah, and I can swim in that oil pond nearby!" Seaspray agreed excitedly.

"Sounds good, but Warpath won't wanna go," Beachcomber informed them, "Don't you know what today is?"

"Apparently not garbage day," Seaspray commented as he kicked a sharp piece of metal off to the side.

"Guys, it's Nominus 16," Beachcomber told them, referring to the month and orn, "You know Warpath gets really cranky and depressed on Nominus 16. Every vorn it's exactly the same. I doubt even Moonracer's gonna get any attention from him right now."

"Oh yeah, now that you mention it, I have noticed he does that," Powerglide shrugged, "So what gives, Beachcomber? He talks to you the most. Why is he always so angry on Nominus 16?"

"I don't know," Beachcomber replied, "I figured it wasn't my place to ask. One cannot force the wind to come to them, after all. The wind must come to you. If Warpath feels we have a need to know, then he'll tell us."

"I can't believe none of us asked," Seaspray burbled ruefully, "He's our friend. We should know what's wrong."

"Eh, it's probably an anniversary or somethin'," Powerglide shrugged, "Everybody's lost someone to this war. It's probably his creators or friend or somethin'."

"There's only two people he frequently talks about," Beachcomber mused, "His sire who mysteriously vanished, and his Decepticon friend Air Warrior who was killed. It's probably one of them."

The other two minibots agreed, and then they awkwardly changed the subject. None of them asked Warpath why he was holed up in his room that orn. Powerglide thought it was no big deal, Seaspray felt too guilty to ask, and Beachcomber felt that it would only cause Warpath more grief than it would heal.

The month of Nominus came and went. Warpath's bitterness came and went. No one knew why.

Warpath walked down the halls to the training room and greeted every mech he saw along the way. He waved to Perceptor, to Red Alert and Inferno, to Huffer, and even managed a non-threatening smile to Brawn (even though they still weren't on good terms).

His leisurely walk was interrupted, however, by a comm from Prowl.

/Warpath, meet in the control room,/ Prowl ordered over the comm link, /You are required for a mission./

Warpath pumped his threaded feet as quickly as he could as he ran to the control room. He was always ready for a mission. It was a chance to protect the innocent, to quash the evil that was ravaging their world, and to help his friends. Warpath had a mission, and he didn't want to keep his superiors waiting.

Warpath skidded to a halt directly in front of Prowl and looked around for his fellow teammates. Nobody else was there. Just him and Prowl. Was this a solo mission? He'd never had one of those before. He'd never been trusted with one before. Maybe this was an opportunity...

"Warpath, I'm glad you arrived in a timely fashion," Prowl said blandly as he looked down at a data pad instead of looking Warpath in the optic, "Our scouting team came across Decepticons while searching for energon. One of the Decepticons was injured and was taken prisoner. As soon as Ratchet finishes with him in the medbay I want you to take the first shift guarding him until we can negotiate for his release."

"Guard duty?" Warpath asked; disappointed, "Well...Yes, sir."

Warpath hated guard duty. All guards did was sit on their afts all day and read data pads while pretending what they did was important. He didn't want to be one of those mechs, but at the same time he didn't feel comfortable enough with high ranking officers like Prowl to refuse an order, no matter how minor. He still didn't even trust Optimus Prime, despite all the time that Warpath spent in his presence. Then again, he wasn't actually defending the Prime. He was defending his friends. If they needed him to be a guard, then so be it.

Warpath walked along a row of prison cells down in the basement of their headquarters. Every cell was empty except for the one Warpath was going to. They were so low on energon that taking prisoners was impractical. He supposed they only took this one because they wanted to negotiate for more energon. When Warpath thought of it that way, that made him realize this could be someone important.

What if he was guarding a member of the elite trine? What if it was Blitzwing, or a member of Devastator? His imagination toyed with him until he finally made it to the isolation cell at the end of the room. He would finally peer in and see for himself who was important enough to capture.

He looked inside, and saw a seeker that was dark blue with black and yellow accents. The seeker still had many injuries, but he was patched up well. Warpath was sure this seeker looked familiar, and when the pitiful creature turned to face him that was when he realized who was sitting in front of him behind the steel door...

"Deathwind?" Warpath gasped in muted shock.

"Warpath?" Deathwind rasped weakly, "I thought you died vorns ago."

Yes, it was Deathwind, one of the members of Air Warrior's old trine. Warpath remembered only meeting this mech once; at the reading of Air Warrior's will. While Sunstorm had been the most memorable member of the group for his insanity and wit, Deathwind was remembered by Warpath as a fastidious and uptight mech that was afraid of being alone.

"Are you here to rescue me?" Deathwind asked hopefully.

Oh, right. The last time they met Warpath was a Decepticon. It seemed like two lifetimes ago, and yet at the same time like yesterday. Deathwind had such a look of hope and gratitude on his face plate. How could Warpath tell him he was there to make sure he stayed behind that cell like a bird in a cage? Instead, he bought himself some time by saying...

"You know, 15 orns ago was WHAM Nominus 16th."

"Nominus 16th?" Deathwind asked in confusion before exclaiming, "Ah, yes! Nominus 16th. The orn that Air Warrior was killed in battle. Such a tragedy. You know, things were never quite the same after he died. 2 vorns later Sunstrom declared to me that since we weren't a trine anymore there was no reason for us to remain brothers, so he broke the trine bond with me and went off on his own. I've been alone ever since. Oh, I tried to find a new trine, but I'm simply too old to offer anything to the younger ones, and I have no sigma ability to make myself useful in battle. I put myself out into the battlefield each day, but there no longer seems to be a reason why. I'm just killing Autobots and waiting to die."

Warpath felt he could relate to what Deathwind was saying. Warpath had been exactly the same way when he was a Decepticon. That was before he met his friends and before he had discovered that there actually could be hope for the future of Cybertron. He just wanted so badly to give that same hope to Deathwind. Maybe he still could...

"You know Deathwind, if you joined the Autobots things could be different for you. Better," Warpath said gently.

"Join the Autobots!?" Deathwind scoffed, "Why would I even-? Hey wait, what happened to your optics? Oh, slag! They're blue! Oh, holy pit! You're an Autobot now, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," Warpath replied without shame, "I know we're ZAM losing, but things are better for the Autobots anyway. We're POW happy. We have friends, and are willing to BANG die for each other instead of kill each other to live. You're a good mech, Deathwind. I just want you to BOOM have that too."

"You're a traitor," Deathwind replied; his voice like ice running down Warpath's fuel lines, "I should kill you and accept whatever punishment I get for it. I should pull out your neck cables right now. I should, but I won't. I just don't see the point anymore."

"So, um...Why did they POP capture you anyway?" Warpath asked, "What are we trading for?"

"You don't know?" Deathwind asked in astonishment, "I thought you were one of them! Oh, well. It's of little consequence if you know or not. I am to stand trial under the magistrate Ultra Magnus for assassinating Rho Duon, the brother of Alpha Trion. I will be executed for my actions, there is no doubt about that. I did it for the glory, but I suppose that is of no consequence now either."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Deathwind," Warpath whispered as he placed his helm on the door, "I wish there was WHOOSH something I could do."

"Air Warrior used to talk about you all the time," Deathwind said wistfully; not looking at Warpath but rather the wall to his right, "He said you helped him feel less nervous around other people. He also said you used to paint the back of his wings where he couldn't reach. He wouldn't let me do that for him, even though I was a skilled painter. I used to be jealous of you...I used to wish I could connect to Air Warrior the way you did. Sometimes I think he was a grounder that was accidentally born with wings. I wasn't exactly kind to him, I'll admit, but it wasn't because I didn't care. I just didn't know how to talk to someone as sensitive as Air Warrior. As it turns out, sometimes I can be sensitive too. I don't know why you joined those Autobot slaggers, but I'm glad you survived this long. At least someone will remember Air Warrior besides me. I even think Sunstorm forgot him. Sunstorm was never very stable."

"I know," Warpath replied with a sad expression on his face plate, "Deathwind...I don't want Air Warrior to die."

"What are you talking about? He died over 700 vorns ago," Deathwind replied disdainfully.

"I know, but if he's forgotten then he really and truly is BAM dead," Warpath replied, "I don't want that to happen. I...I'm willing to CRASH let you go, if you promise to not attack us anymore."

"I can't do that!" Deathwind exclaimed vehemently, "A Decepticon that disobeys is a dead Decepticon! I'd have to turn neutral, go rogue, and leave Cybertron! I don't think I'm strong enough to live on my own."

"Don't you see?" Warpath practically pleaded, "We're all that's left of Air Warrior! If you ZOWEE die, and if I die, then Air Warrior dies too."

"Then let me go," Deathwind replied sternly as he glared at Warpath, "You have a choice to make, Autobot. Allow me to return to my life and my duty, or sacrifice Air Warrior's memory on behalf of your Prime. You have to live with whatever choice you make. So, can you live with my execution or not?"

Warpath was stunned. He knew Deathwind was trying to play games with his processor. He knew the opportunistic seeker was merely using him, and might even kill Warpath if he released him. The problem was that Warpath actually agreed with him. It would be disloyal to Air Warrior to choose Optimus Prime over one of his late friend's trine brothers. In the end it was a difficult choice, but one that Warpath felt he had to make.

He turned away from Deathwind, and the seeker scowled at being left in the cell. That look changed, however, when Warpath returned with the key to the cell door!

"Warpath...Maybe there's some Decepticon left in you after all," Deathwind said approvingly.

Warpath then opened the door, and Deathwind carefully stepped around the angry looking tank-former.

"Just get out," Warpath growled, "I don't wanna see your FRAG face plate here ever again."

Deathwind nodded solemnly and then transformed; his jet mode knocking Warpath back against the wall as the thrusters let out a powerful burst!

Warpath stayed there in the open cell against the wall for several breems before anyone came down to see if he was alright. Warpath wasn't injured, but he faked being dazed so everyone would think Deathwind overpowered him. Two of his teammates helped him up and walked with him to the medbay.

Beachcomber was out scavenging for spare parts for the rest of the team to use. He was often sent out to search for tools, minerals, and other pieces of scrap because of his advanced sensors. He also enjoyed getting out of the base on a nonviolent excursion. As much as Beachcomber loved 'Bot's and animals, he also enjoyed having some time alone.

He was collecting some shards of metal into his subspace when he heard the sound of a cannon go off! He ducked into a trench, thinking he was caught in a Decepticon sneak attack. He realized that wasn't the case when he heard a very familiar voice yell "Aw, fraggit! That was my last BLAM sabot round!"

Beachcomber popped his helm out of the ground like a rodent and looked for Warpath. His scanners showed that Warpath was just outside one of the underground energon storage areas. Beachcomber walked over to see what Warpath was doing, and he came across his friend sitting on the ground holding a mostly empty cube of high grade.

"Warpath, have you lost it, mech?" Beachcomber exclaimed, "Drinkin' that much high grade means you'll lose your rations for the next three orns!"

"I don't care," Warpath slurred as he blearily stared up Beachcomber, "My tool-tolwrench is very low right...now."

"You mean tolerance?" Beachcomber offered, "I can see that, brother."

"Yeah, a couple more 'a these should kill me quite nicely," Warpath said with wry joy, "Then my rations will *hic* go to more BLAST deserving Autobots."

"You need to stop drinkin' that," Beachcomber said firmly as he gently pried the cube out of Warpath's servo, "We gotta get you to a medic. Your tanks can't handle all that after a near starvation diet."

"Hey, gibbit back!" Warpath tried to reach for the cube, but his movements were too slow for him to actually grab anything, "I want that! Jus' let me POW go!"

"Warpath, what is this about?" Beachcomber asked as he grabbed Warpath's face and forced the tank to look him in the visor, "So a prisoner escaped on your watch. So what? It wasn't your fault. We still need you, Warpath. You're a good Autobot, and you're one of my best friends."

"Stop it! Just stop it! You're torturing me!" Warpath screamed as coolant started to run down his optics and onto his face mask, "Don't you BANG see? I did it! I let him go! I just...I SLAM can't do this anymore! I moved on! I have f-f-friends, and Moonracer, and I work for the FRAG Prime! I don't deserve any of it! I'm a monster! I killed so many Autobots, and I...I...ZOW, I wasn't there when he died!"

"When who died?" Beachcomber asked gently, holding Warpath's servo in both of his to comfort him.

"Air Warrior!" Warpath sobbed, "He was my ZOOM best friend...my only friend. How can Decepticons be evil? How can I CRASH fight them, when I used to be one? When Air Warrior used to be one? This is my first POW high grade in 80 vorns. I was a pretty bad ethanolic when I was a 'Con. I wanna be better, but I don't know if I ZAP deserve it. I've ruined so many lives. I don't know how to be anything else now. I'm broken! Air Warrior wouldn't even POP recognize the mech I've become. We never liked battle, but had to fight to survive. Now I look forward to it, because it's all I'm CLICK good at. You shouldn't be my friend. You'll only get hurt."

Beachcomber just sat in silence with Warpath for a few breems as Warpath continued to cry himself sober. Every now and then Beachcomber would pat Warpath's servo and nod when Warpath spoke.

"Warpath, just because you found a better life doesn't mean you've abandoned your friend," Beachcomber finally said after Warpath had quieted down, "Air Warrior probably would've become an Autobot right with you, if he had all the facts. He cared about you, and would want you to be happy. I bet he'd love meetin' all your new friends if he was here now. Hey, do you think he would've liked Moonracer?"

"He saw her at the WHAM bar when I first met her," Warpath replied; his mood already improving, "He said he didn't date grounders. I think he was just too BAM nervous to go talk to her. Probably for the best. She would've killed him."

"Do you think he'd get along with anyone here on base?" Beachcomber asked to encourage Warpath to talk.

"Yeah, he would've liked Perceptor," Warpath replied wistfully, "Though Perceptor likes MASH textbooks, and Air Warrior preferred fiction. He'd probably think Powerglide was the BOOM funniest thing to happen to the Autobots since Wheeljack. He's such a dopey looking flier!"

"Yeah, I'm sure I would've liked Air Warrior too," Beachcomber told him, "I've always thought you had good judge in character."

"Beachcomber? Is it okay if...?" Warpath had trouble finishing his thought, but then finally asked, "Is it okay that I WRECK won't ever feel the same way about you guys that I felt about Air Warrior? I'm not saying I like you less, but I..."

"I get it," Beachcomber nodded warmly, "No two friendships are the same. You can't expect them to be. I feel different ways about different friends too. I tell Seaspray most of my secrets because he can keep a secret. I talk to you the most because you're fun to talk to. I listen to Powerglide without sayin' much because he likes to talk and needs an audience. I listen to music with Jazz, talk about geology with Perceptor, play cards with Smokescreen, and explore the outside world with Hound. No two mechs are the same, and you can't expect to replace one friend with another. Each one is special."

"Yeah, I guess so," Warpath replied softly; no longer feeling guilty about it, "I used to listen more with Air Warrior than talk. He BANG liked to talk all the time. I wasn't as afraid to put myself out there as him, but I was BLOOEY young and stupid then. You're more confident than I am, so I like it when you bring your friends to meet me, so I don't have to WHOOSH start from scratch. I trust you more than Powerglide when it comes to secrets, but in battle I trust Seaspray and Powerglide more than you. Maybe...maybe it isn't wrong to move on."

Beachcomber smiled and stood up, then offered his servo to help Warpath up. Warpath dusted himself off as best he could, and then followed Beachcomber as he walked back to the base.

"You know Moonracer is gonna flip when she sees your energy pressure, right?" Beachcomber asked teasingly.

"Oh, fraggit!" Warpath cursed, "Oh well. You know of a JAM good I'm-sorry-I-got-drunk-off-my-aft-and-made-your-job-harder gift?"

The two 'Bots laughed at that one as they strolled back inside. Warpath still felt a little tipsy from the high grade, and he knew his hangover and subsequent reduced rations would ruin the next couple orns. He knew he messed up (twice) but at least he had finally done something he should've done vorns ago; actually get the grief he felt over his friend off his chest plate.

Two vorns later a secret project that had begun many vorns ago was finally completed. Warpath learned about it the same way the other low ranking soldiers learned about it; through a meeting with Optimus Prime.

"I have very important news to tell you all," Optimus Prime intoned as he stood before the assembled Autobots, "After vorns of effort from our construction team, a ship has been built that will take us beyond our world to find new sources of energon. This ship is called: Project Ark."

There were murmurs in the crowd, some astonished, some skeptical, and some hopeful.

"Since the Decepticons must not learn of our plan, we will leave in two orns," The Prime continued, "Most of us will be on that ship. Only a skeleton crew will remain on Cybertron to maintain an Autobot presence. It has also been agreed that the femmes should stay behind to assist Alpha Trion. If the Decepticons capture the Ark, then we do not want them harming those among us that can ensure the future of Cybertron. Alpha Trion holds the key to Vector Sigma, and Elita One and her femme brigade hold the ability to merge sparks with mechs to create sparklings. Megatron would stop at nothing to destroy either. Prowl has issued a special notice on your duty rosters to let you know if you are going to board the Ark or stay behind. You have two orns to pack anything you deem necessary for the trip. The future of Cybertron rests with us. Dismissed."

Warpath and the other minibots with him wasted no time logging on to see if they were going to be on the Ark. All of them were! Warpath smiled beneath his face mask for a moment, but then he suddenly realized something. The femmes were staying on Cybertron. That meant Moonracer was staying too.

Warpath, Perceptor, Hound, Trailbreaker, and Seaspray all diligently packed their things and talked about the possibilities. Hound was the most enthusiastic about leaving because he loved to explore. Seaspray and Trailbreaker likewise looked forward to exploring new worlds, and Perceptor was cautiously optimistic about the new life forms and microbes they might encounter.

"I hope this planet has water or oil to swim in," Seaspray commented as he stuffed data pads into his subspace, "I get so sick of being left behind because my alt mode only works on liquid surfaces."

"I hope there are intelligent organics," Hound gushed, "I love it when I get to meet new life forms. You know, sometimes I wish I was born an organic."

"Yeah, they are pretty great," Seaspray agreed, "Not nearly as clumsy as I am. Seriously, who thought building a mech with rubber feet was a good idea?"

"Whoever built you in Vector Sigma," Trailbreaker chuckled.

Warpath wasn't really listening as they spoke. Warpath knew he would ruin the mood if he said anything. He knew he should be happy to finally leave this overcrowded room and have his own quarters on the Ark, but he didn't want to leave Moonracer behind. Still, he knew he had to go. Duty was more important than the happiness of one mech. Their planet needed every Autobot it could get to protect the freedom of all sentient beings, and Warpath knew he had a part to play.

After Warpath was sure he had everything he needed he decided to go to the rec room for some energon. He knew he should be helping with loading the energon stores, but he also felt that he just needed a moment to himself.

He sat there for a few breems drinking low grade before a welcome visitor pulled him from his thoughts.

"Hey Warpath, this seat taken?" Moonracer asked as she approached him.

"Never," Warpath replied warmly before getting up and pulling out her chair, "I was just BLAM thinking."

"Yeah, me too," Moonracer replied sadly, "Elita's taking this really hard. I think she might try to board the ship."

"Why?" Warpath asked, "Isn't she POUND in charge?"

"Yes, but she doesn't want Optimus to leave without her," Moonracer replied, "They have been bonded for as long as the war has been going on. Maybe longer. I can't imagine what they must be going through. I've never had a relationship stable enough for those kinds of feelings."

"I have," Warpath said tenderly, "Because that's how I WHOOSH feel about you. I wish I could just pack you in my subspace and POW take you with me."

Moonracer laughed softly and squeezed his servo. She leaned into his frame, and Warpath held her there. He wished he could freeze time in this moment. He knew Elita One had the ability to freeze time, and he wondered if she would do that if Optimus was holding her at this exact same moment. He sighed, knowing this would eventually end, and decided there was something he had to get off his chest plate.

"Moonracer, this mission is dangerous," Warpath stated.

"Nothing the best team on Cybertron can't handle," Moonracer replied encouragingly.

"Sweet spark, if something BOOM happens to me..." Warpath exhaled before continuing, "...If I die, then I want you to WHAM find someone else to make you happy."

"What?" Moonracer exclaimed as she pushed herself away from his hold to look him in the optic.

"I want you to move on if I don't come back," Warpath repeated, "Moonracer, I love you. I don't want you to be ZAP unhappy. I figure we need to have this talk, so you POP know my feelings on this. I would rather you be happy than not, so don't wait for me if you think I'm ZOOM dead."

"You'll come back, I know you will," Moonracer said with conviction, "And I'll wait. You should know better than to think I could forget you that easily. I'll tell you what, for a little added incentive, when the Autobots return victorious and you come back, we can bond with each other."

"Really?" Warpath asked, and Moonracer nodded, "Wow, I wish I was as PEW sure about things as you are. You can make me believe anything."

"You're lucky I don't use my powers for evil," Moonracer joked as she winked at Warpath, "Now, you'd better get to the store room. Every set of servos counts. Time is very short right now, and we have to get the Ark out of here before the Decepticons find out about this. Now, you need to-"

Before Moonracer could finish her thought, however, a blaring klaxon wailed throughout the base!

"What the-!" Warpath snapped worriedly.

"It's an intruder alarm!" Moonracer hollered, "The 'Cons know we're here! You have to get to the ship now!"

"But Moonracer-,"

"Go!"

Warpath ran out of the room and Moonracer took out her pistol before following him. Together they ran through the darkened halls. The power had been cut, and they knew the Decepticons were to blame. The Ark was in the distance, and many Autobots were scrambling to get inside. Seekers shot at escaping Autobots, and Moonracer started shooting back at them.

Warpath made it to the ramp and saw that a seeker was about to use a cluster bomb on Moonracer, but she was too distracted to see it! Warpath aimed his cannon, shot the seeker out of the sky, and then ran inside the Ark so he wouldn't prevent anyone behind him from boarding. Optimus Prime stood at the entrance like a protective school teacher making sure everyone got inside before he went in himself. In that moment Warpath got the feeling Prime actually was a good leader.

Warpath ran deep into the ship with the other lower ranking Autobots, and the last thing he heard was Prime screaming Elita's name. He knew that scream could only mean something terrible had happened.

Shortly after that the Ark took off. The Decepticon seekers tried to pursue, but their speed and strength was no match for a spaceship. For the moment, the Autobots had won the day and they were headed to parts unknown. Warpath only hoped that Moonracer survived the battle.

They had been traveling for 10 joors aboard the Ark. Warpath stood in one of the spacious hallways and looked out the window. This ship was far grander than anything he thought they could put together, and he was impressed with how much space there was on this ship. Of course, there needed to be. There were nearly a hundred mechs on board this vessel.

He looked out at the stars. From this distance they looked so unassuming, and yet each one was a burning bonfire many times the size of Cybertron. The expanse made what they were doing seem so...small.

Beachcomber sauntered down the hall and stopped when he saw Warpath staring out the window. Warpath took a moment before he acknowledged his friend's presence, but then smiled with his optics at the blue minibot.

"The universe is a beautiful cosmic wonder, ain't it brother?" Beachcomber asked in awe, "I wonder what kind of planet we'll land on."

"Do you think it was the right thing to CLACK leave the femmes behind?" Warpath suddenly asked.

"I don't know," Beachcomber shrugged, "I do know it seemed like the least dangerous option at the time. Honestly I think there are some mechs on board this ship that should've stayed behind for their own protection. Like Gears. He ain't made for this kind of exploration."

"Neither are you," Warpath pointed out, "This mission might involve fighting BANG Decepticons. I know you. You'd rather make peace than fight, but they won't give you that option."

"You did," Beachcomber retorted, "There's hope for everyone, Warpath. Now, do I think all of Megatron's forces are gonna give up and play nice with us? No, I don't. However, some might. There's hope for everyone. Until our world is united again, I just have to do what I can to look out for my friends. Say, you wanna go to the rec room and see what some of the other Autobots are doin'?"

"Sure," Warpath said with a smile beneath his mask, "That sounds POW fantastic."

Warpath followed Beachcomber to the rec room and began to think about the journey it took to get him from where he was before to where he found himself in this moment. He wasn't a young 'Bot anymore, but he felt younger when he considered the possibilities out there and the future that could await him. He thought about finding energon. He thought about all the friends he'd be traveling with. He thought about returning home to Moonracer. He thought about Decepticons that might yet give up the cause of tyranny. When these thoughts mixed together, they were sweeter than any high grade, because these thoughts equaled peace.

The End