AN: sorry about having to re post this but I goofed on something major and had to fix it so I desided to re post it rather then try to fix it here.

Oh ya. Contains drinking and sexual themes

I now give you...

Truths, Secrets, and Lies

All the others could see it; even Cheetor had figured it out. The only ones who didn't see it were the ones who it involved.

It started when they were celebrating Airazor's safe recovery from her pod. Rattrap had gone and whipped up some high-octane energon and had said there was plenty to go around. Dinobot had taken one sip and had shaken his head. What Rattrap called "high-octane" was what most Predacons called "light beer". He left and returned with several flasks.

"Whatcha drinking, Dinobot?" Cheetor asked.

"A Predacon high-octane formula. Much more palatable for me," Dinobot answered, taking a swig.

"Mind if I give it a try?" the kid cat asked.

"Sorry Cheetor," Primal said, "but you're a bit too young to drink."

"Aww, come on Big Bot," Cheetor said. Dinobot turned to face Optimus.

"You're too young," Primal told him again, and Cheetor sighed. Dinobot snorted derisively, then took a long pull from his flask.

"Something wrong, Dinobot?" Optimus asked, turning to the large Predacon.

Dinobot looked Primal over for a few moments then said, "You expect Cheetor to obey your orders - expect him to put his life on the line for the primitive creatures of this planet, as well as your comrades in the pods. You expect him to take on the responsibilities of an adult, and yet when he wishes to indulge in some of the privileges entitled thereto, you tell him 'no'. It's no wonder he disobeys your orders." Dinobot paused and tilted back his drink. "Although why at sixteen you call him a child is still beyond me."

Rhinox sat looking thoughtful for a few moments, sipping his drink. "You know Optimus, strange as it may sound, he does have a point. We do ask a lot of the lad. Perhaps we should let up a bit."

"I promised his parents I'd watch out for him," Optimus said in return.

"Eh, Big Banana, lighten up. Da kid should be able ta' have some fun 'round heres. Ya' made dat promise when we was just gonna be toolin' 'round da galaxy. T'ings are different now," Rattrap said, then promptly chugged the rest of his energon. "Al'dough I can't believe I'm agreein' wit' da Pred."

Primal sighed and realized he was going to be out-voted on this. "Alright Cheetor, but just realize that there are consequences for everything," Primal told him. "Go easy on it. Okay?"

Cheetor's optics brightened. "Sure thing, Big Bot. So can I try some of that drink now?"

Dinobot shrugged and filled a shot glass about one quarter of the way up with a red fluid from the flask. "Here." He passed the glass to Cheetor.

Cheetor took the glass and shot it back. He nearly gagged it back up. "Yug! How can you drink that stuff?" he asked, wiping his mouth.

"I ask the same about Maximal formulas," Dinobot said, tilting back his flask.

"Hey kid," Rattrap called. "Come over here, I'm gonna teach ya a game called cred-bounce."

Over the next few hours the drinking got heaver and Rattrap and Cheetor both got really drunk. "So, Rat face, why do you hate Preds so much?" Cheetor asked as he sunk a cred-chip into the cup.

Rattrap downed his shot. "I didn't always hate Preds, kiddo. In fact, some a' dem were my best friends. Ya' see, my dad worked in construction. He got laid offa' his job, so we had ta' move. He was able ta get anodder job in da mixed district."

"'Mixed District'? What's that?" Airazor asked.

"There are three main districts in the Cybertron cities," Dinobot answered. "One comprised entirely of Maximals, one of Predacons, and one that normally sits between them: the Mixed district."

"Yeah, so we moved inta one. I was just enterin' my first year of Primary School. I got inta a fight. I didn't win but nether did da Pred. After dat his pals asked me ta hang out wit' dem. Dere were eight of us, t'ree Maximals an' five Preds. We stayed t'gether fer like six years. Den we got ta Secondary School. 'Cause where I was livin' was like on da border of another school district, I went ta a different school den my gang." Rattrap stopped there and took another drink, shaking his head.

"So what happened, Big R?" Cheetor asked, wide-eyed. He couldn't imagine Rattrap being friends with Preds, or that just being sent to another school would make him hate them either.

Rattrap just sighed and drank. After half an hour of Cheetor bugging him Rattrap slammed down his glass. "Ya really wanna know, kid?" he snapped angrily. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn ya!" He then stormed over to where Dinobot was sitting and snagged one of the flasks. He opened it and downed half of it in one gulp. "Acid Rain huh?" he asked. Dinobot nodded. "Good shit." He then turned to Cheetor.

"After 'bout a month at my school I hadn't made any really good friends like before. I had no one to watch my tail pipe. I got jumped by a gang a' older Preds, aged around fourteen. Dey started hittin' me, den one a' dem said he had an idea..." Rattrap trailed off.

Dinobot growled low in his throat. He knew what must have happened and he didn't like it. A part of him was grateful that Rattrap had stopped when he did. Not only did the kid absolutely not need to hear this about his kind, but it would most likely lead to questions he really didn't want to be asked, nor answer.

Unfortunately Cheetor asked softly, "What was their idea?"

Rattrap downed the rest of the flask. Dinobot fervently hoped that Rattrap wouldn't answer, but Acid Rain had a way of loosening one's vocal processor. "Dey blinded me wit' somethin', don' know what, den day ripped off my armor." Rattrap's voice started to rise in volume. "Dey trussed me up worse den a berserkin' Pred. Hurt like a bitch too!" Rattrap was screaming now. "Den dey raped me! All of em! Dere, ya happy kid?" Rattrap took a deep breath. "We moved dat week. I've hated Preds ever since."

Rhinox heard another growl from Dinobot.

"Gee, sorry RT." Cheetor looked very sorry that he'd asked.

Rattrap glared at the kid cat for a few moments before snatching one of Dinobot's flasks and storming out of the room without a word. Rhinox shook his head. Primal looked over at him. "Did you know about this?"

Rhinox looked back. "Yeah." He sipped his energon.

Cheetor stared at the door Rattrap had left through. "Ya know, I kinda figure that those kids wouldn't be - ya know - old enough to interface."

"Well, technically speaking most Cybertronians can't. My guess is that they came into their growth early," Primal told him.

Dinobot peered over at Optimus. "Just what exactly are you smoking Primal?"

Optimus did a double take at Dinobot. "What do you mean?"

"Do you actually hear the words coming out of your vocal processor? Are you really THAT deluded?!" Dinobot asked them rage in his optics. He had to explain now. They needed to know, although he was pretty sure they wouldn't believe him. It was also a testament to just how drunk he was; sober, he would never have said anything on this topic. "Predacons are mental adults by the age of fourteen. Around that time our reproductive programs kick in all at once. The urge to mate is nearly overwhelming. Unfortunately Maximals seem to ignore this. Years ago they made it illegal to interface before the age of eighteen. And before you ask, no, manual release does NOT help in the least."

Rhinox thought for a moment then said, "There are holo-programs they could use."

Dinobot laughed. "Right, tell your first lover you're so pathetic that you can't land a real female. You'd never live it down."

"Oh yeah?" a drunken Cheetor piped up. "I figured you would've needed to take that road."

"HA!" Dinobot laughed. "My first was a twenty-eight stellar-cycle old Predacon commander I was able to impress shortly after I joined up, thank you very much."

"And how did she not get thrown out? And for that matter, what were you doing in the Predacon Army at such a young age?" Primal looked slightly alarmed.

The very high-octane energon he had been imbibing made Dinobot laugh. "Did you not hear me, Optimus?" He sighed and shook his head. "Predacon youths are adults at the age of fourteen. We can enter the Predacon Armed Forces at that point. While there, we continue our schooling. As for why she wasn't kicked out..." Dinobot let out a humor-filled snort and took a swig. "There was no reason for her to be."

"According to the Pax Cybertronia, any interfacing under the age of eighteen is illegal. Anyone caught doing so is subject to severe punishment," Optimus quoted to him.

"Read your own fine print, Optimus. The Predacon Armed Forces are governed by the Tripredacus Council alone, allowing us to at least give our youth a way to deal with their needs as well as learn."

Several hours, and more then a few drinks, later Rattrap was heading for his own bed. He turned a corner to see Dinobot leaning against a wall, arms crossed over his chest. "Whaddya' want Chopperface?" he asked wearily, the start of a spectacular hangover creeping over his CPU.

"I wish to apologize on behalf of my kind. What happened to you should never have happened. The Maximals should listen and accept the fact that we are fundamentally different, but it's still no excuse," Dinobot said. Rhinox, who was on his way to his room from getting a very drunk Cheetor into bed, overheard Dinobot's apology as well as the touch of gentleness that seemed to be inadvertent. A smile crossed his face.

"Yeah whatever Lizard Lips." Rattrap really wanted to get to his bed.

"One more thing," Dinobot said as Rattrap moved away. "That gang of yours... even today, all you'd need to is to make a comm. call. Once you're in, you're in for life. They'd still have you back, even after all these years."