Back at Autobot base, the Zoe woke up sometime during the night, and sat up stiffly. Her shoulder was healed but sore and she rotated it to work out the kinks. As she did, she looked around. She was back at the Autobot base, on one of the beds in Ratchets new medical bay. She could hear the quiet sounds of her monitoring equipment but also the quiet sounds of the Autobots talking in the room just outside the doors, including Bumblebee.

On muscles and reflexes honed for stealth she slipped out of the bed and went to the door to listen.

"...when she was chosen by the AllSpark." It was Ratchet who spoke. "It is closely tied into her own spark. And its power is evolving, increasing in strength."

Optimus nodded and replied. "But...could it be enough to restore our world?"

Ratchet nodded hesitatingly. "It's hard to say. Collectively we know very little about the AllSpark. But...it's possible, even a fragment contains immense power. It could be enough to start the process again."

"Then we have to take her back to Cybertron." Ironhide spoke up now. "We have to try."

Optimus shook his head. "There is no telling what will happen to her if she uses that power on such a grand scale."

Ironhide protested. "But there are no other options. Our people are scattered throughout the galaxy, we might be the last of our kind, and now..." he spread his hands out. "We have a chance, the ONLY chance to change that. To make thousands of years of warfare, of fighting, of DYING mean something. And here we stand questioning if we should take it. Some of us," he gestured at Bumblebee, "have ONLY known combat their entire existence, and some of us remember the times before the fighting. They remember peace." He paused, looking meaningfully at Ratchet, his voice heavy with ancient pain. "Don't you think we should at least TRY to change that Optimus?"

Despite the clearly plaintive plea in Ironhide's deep voice, Optimus remained unconvinced. "I want to return to Cybertron as much as you do old friend, but with the AllSpark restored, the wars will start anew, and nothing will have changed. Cybertron will die again." He looked around the circle. "If Zoe does not use the AllSpark within her to rekindle Cybertron then the war will remain here, on a planet that does not deserve our wrath." He sighed deeply, thinking that, at times, that perhaps the AllSpark would have been better off destroyed. "There is no easy choice Autobots."

Jazz had his arms crossed. "Yes there is." He said a bit sourly. The others turned to look at him. "If using the AllSpark will kill Zoe, then that's final. We don't use it."

Bumblebee stared at Jazz for a minute then dropped his head away, nodding in agreement. Jazz was right. He thought about if Sam was in Zoe's place. Could he sacrifice his friend for even Cybertron? He was certain he could not. So, he understood Jazz's position well.

Ironhide disagreed. "But there is no guarantee that it WILL kill her."

"And there's no guarantee that it won't either." Ratchet put in. "But the AllSpark is combined with her own spark AND it is the power behind her gifts with mechanoids. To remove it from her, will render her a normal human...something it seems like, from her conversations with Jazz, she might relish. But," he added, "Her body may no longer be able to cope with such a change."

Jazz looked away from Ratchet and nodded. It was true. She'd expressed desire before to be a 'normal' human. But if she lost the energy from the AllSpark, would it kill her? At the least, would she lose her spark that bound them to one another?

"But sir, if she restores the AllSpark," Bumblebee asked quietly. "Can't we use that to restore all of our friends we've lost in the war? Can't we rebuild and defend Cybertron?"

Ironhide was quiet a moment, thinking of those he'd lost as well, then he nodded. "Of course we WILL. We'll use her power to restore our comrades and defend both her AND Cybertron."

Ratchet bristled at that. "She's not some tool to use indiscriminately Ironhide. Doing so would make us no better than Decepticons."

Optimus shook his head again and uncrossed his own arms. "In the end it is not a choice we can make for her. She has the right to choose for herself, and we will abide by her decision, regardless of what it is."

Both Jazz and Ironhide protested that "But, Optimus—" they said in one voice, though the why of each differed vastly. Jazz knew Zoe wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice herself for the greater good. Ironhide believed in the good of the many outweighed the one. Even if that one was someone he too, had come to respect and even care about. The old warrior could only assume she wouldn't sacrifice herself for a motley crew of alien robots.

Optimus shook his head, rumbling deeply. "No. And that is final."

They continued to talk about their plan and what to do about the re-emerging Decepticons, but Zoe had enough of that. She went back into the room and sat on the bed again. What they had said weighed heavily on her. She could restore their race? Should she? It seemed an impossible task. She was so small and insignificant compared to their hulking masses, but she had to believe what they had said.

She could feel the telltale rumblings in her body that signified a loss of energy. She knew she'd have to eat again but then she glanced down at the floor. There and there was a small pile of sugary snack foods. Left there by Jazz most likely, or maybe Ratchet.

Jazz... Her thoughts fell on him again. Did she truly care for the giant robot? She had to think she did. He occupied her thoughts most of the time and she felt happier when he was around. But, still, she sighed, he was a mechanical being, she was flesh. He was thousands of years old; she was only twenty-five. What could he possibly see in her?

Then there was Alex. Captured by the Autobot's arch-enemies, and probably being held by them for the same reason the Autobots discussed in the other room. Alex had been sent to retrieve her, but he had warned her, in song,

She had heard his warning and chose to ignore it until it was almost too late, and look at the result. Alex had been taken back to the Decepticons, probably for punishment. And it was her fault. She dropped her head in her hands. What could she do? She didn't want to leave here, this was her home too. But she couldn't leave Alex in those Decepticon hands. She knew she couldn't sit and do nothing, and in the end, it meant going to the Decepticons. If it was necessary, she'd destroy herself to keep the AllSpark from Decepticon hands. She knew it would doom the Autobots to life here on Earth, but it would be better than their home-world, and the galaxy, being conquered by Decepticons.

It was that moment she decided to tell Jazz she cared about him. She didn't want to leave him, probably forever, not knowing. Argh, why there always had to be drama was beyond her. It was easier when she didn't have any friends. Just tell him, get it over with. Any way you look at it, she thought, this chapter of her life was over. Today, everything was going to change...again.

Brimming with newly found resolve, she heard a small noise and looked up. Jazz stood there in the doorway, silently, grimly. Zoe returned his gaze for a few moments then dropped away and studied the floor. Great, she thought, feeling that resolve slip away, what am I supposed to say to him? She remained silent. What CAN I say to him? SLAG!She closed her eyes replaying the previous events. Alex. Starscream. Scorponok. Heck...she'd punched Jazz in the face even. What could she say that he possibly wanted to hear?

"You better eat." Jazz said finally, from the doorway. For the first time since he'd met her, the silence between them was awkward. His voice was strained, forced, as much as it could be for electronic. He wanted her to talk to him. He wanted to talk to her, but he couldn't force his body to obey his cognitive desires. He was much too obstinate. When she looked at him, he could feel her regret, her shame. But she still said nothing. Fine then, I gave her a chance. He turned away to leave.

As he began to turn to leave, he was confronted by Ironhide, who stood in the hallway silently as well. He drew up and looked at Ironhide who grunted deeply.

Slag.Jazz swore silently then conferred digitally, but it couldn't' convey his annoyance the larger 'bot was there. He knew his body language would take care of that. He crossed his arms, and kept his visor down, remaining in battle mode. //What Ironhide?//

Ironhide blinked at Jazz's use of the digital communications, then he realized why. Zoe could hear any other kind of communications. He gave Jazz a meaningful look, and then turned away, speaking plainly despite Jazz's attempts at subterfuge. "You need to talk to her, stop all the petty games, and beating around the bush. It's annoying. Hmph." He grumbled and walked away to his own quarters.

Jazz stood there for a moment, unmoving, staring down the hallway at Ironhide's retreating form. Slag. He swore again, then turned and walked into the room, moving up near to Zoe. He was the leader of Optimus' Special Forces team. He'd been up against harder foes then this. He'd been in harder situations this the one he stood in now, and none of them had affected him the way simply standing here in front of Zoe was now. But, he could manage his emotional state, he wasn't a wreck. He'd been trained for this. Millennia of fighting had honed certain responses in his programming. It was that he fell back on now. He could easily hide his feelings. "Are you alright?" He asked quietly.

Zoe wasn't sure she wanted him in the room at the moment, but she too had resources she could fall back on. It wouldn't be good for him to see how much pain she was in. But...she realized, he's thousands of years old...he probably can tell. Plus...he's got scanners. Steeling herself she forced her cyberware to control her biological functions and stabilize her. She could erect walls around her just as well.

She sat up and rotated her right shoulder. "Eh...I've been better, but ... well...you know." She brought her gaze to his visored face, and gave him a cynical smile, which he didn't return. She looked away, the cold look on his face was slightly unnerving. "What about you?" She was serious about the question. Though, through much of the battle with Scorponok she was too frenzied to remember, she did know he had participated. It was possible he had been hurt.

"Eh?" He looked away and frowned. "Yesterday I was a lot better off..." he brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed it. He really didn't know what to say. On one hand he knew his fellow Autobots where waiting on him to make a move, to find out from Zoe what was going on. Optimus was being gracious in allowing him to talk to her first. On the other hand, he felt betrayed in a way, resentful, and did NOT want to speak with her. But, he knew better then to allow his personal feelings to interfere with a mission. And it was a mission now. If the Decepticons succeeded in resurrecting Megatron they would have a whole new war to fight again. Megatron and the Decepticons would surely continue with their plan using the humans to harness the AllSpark, and then return to Cybertron and conquer. "Zoe..." he said "Listen to me. We want to help you." He moved towards her and crouched down before the bed so he was closer to eye level with her. He lifted a hand towards her in a plaintive gesture. "What are you planning on doing?"

Zoe tried hard to maintain ocular contact but it hurt her too much. "Jazz..." She sighed. "I think you know."

He dropped his hand slowly. Yes, she was right. He did already know. But that didn't mean he had to accept that. "No!" He said forcefully. "You don't have to do this, Zoe. We're your friends—"

"I hit you in the face Jazz." Zoe blurted out, interrupting him. "How much of a friend is that?"

For a moment he didn't speak. "But you were hurt, injured, and you weren't processing properly. Besides..." he paused for a nano, "Alex was...was taken away by Starscream. He's special to you..." Jazz shrugged it away, doing a good job at disconnecting himself, his feelings, from the conversation. "Right?"

Zoe looked back at Jazz with an unreadable expression on her face. "Jazz...Alex was...is...someone important to me. I didn't tell you about my past because, like I said, I didn't want you to feel differently about me."

That made him mad. "How can you not trust me?" He shouted at her angrily, moving his hand to his chest plates. "Don't you think you should let me make that decision? Don't you think you can -trust- me to make that decision on my own? Gah!" he let out a low pitched electronic warble, a robotic version of an exasperated sigh and stood up. He walked away a few steps in silence, putting his back to her. "Zoe...just tell me."

She sighed deeply. There was really no more getting around it. Fine. She thought to herself. If he hates me after I tell him, then at least the last two months have been fun. She took a deep breath and began:

I was born into the Sector. As far as I could tell, I think my parents were dead. Myself, and about a dozen other children were legal property of the Sector. We were trained, conditioned to fight a war that we were warned that was coming. You see…back in the 60's the Sector, again using parts created from Megatron's body created a space ship. They called it Ghost-1 and it disappeared into a worm-hole on its maiden flight. For the short time they retained communication the crew of the Ghost spoke about contact with an alien race they'd found…we can only assume it was others like you. They were eventually cut off and stranded when the worm-hole closed, but not before transmitting the data they'd collected on the aliens. They were related to Megatron…and hostile. So…they began plans to protect humans with the very same technology that they were stealing from the aliens we needed protection from. Those 'plans' as they called them…were us. The kids. They called us 'Programs' and we were trained in martial arts, strategy, espionage, and anything else we'd learn. Nearly all of us were fitted with cybernetic parts, those that weren't, were genetically altered, enhanced. But…not everyone survived the 'upgrades' they called them. Our bodies weren't designed for such rigorous changes, and we were poked and prodded and isolated and trained. We were taught only to concentrate on our missions. Sometimes they were simple, most times they were secret government stuff like assassinations, retrievals, rescue, destroy

My specialty was intel Alex was our combat specialist, and Simon was our techie. Most of OUR missions involved retrieval, theft, or interference, but we did run clean up and a lot of recon. We got the bulk of our training from doing black ops missions for the government. Deniable assets, that's what we were. Eventually the thirteen teams, became ten, then eight... If the missions didn't kill us, then the upgrades did. All the surgeries,implants, training, tore most of us up. Those that remained were removed from active missions. After all...they had twenty years invested in us, we were each worth a lot of moneyAs more and more of Megatronwas taken, we became less and less human. We started to protest, question our orders...and that's when we started to 'forget' things. We'd have gaps in our memories. Injuries we didn't remember getting. We were locked down.

That's when the real training began, they told us. We were supposed to be fighters for our planet against those beings that would come looking for Megatron eventually. They discovered they could force the Cube to producerobots, and that's what we started to train against. Robots the Cube created over and over. We learned where to hit you, how to fool your scanners, how to hack you, how to avoid your fire, get under your armor. We waited, we trained for the day your people would come training every day...to kill you. We thought we were ready.

Then, one day, another DID come. The Sector brought him in, under cryo-stasis. NBE-3...I...I didn't know it then...but it was one of your soldiers. It wore your symbol. We never knew his name; he was forced to fight us. He was crippled, tortured. We could see the pain, hear his pleas to stop, but none of us were strong enough to fight the Sector, and had he not been hobbled, we wouldn't have been strong enough to fight him either. Then, soon after he arrived, he disappeared. We were told he died, but I hope he escaped. One of the teams went rogue then, because of that. They were stronger than us because they found the will to leave

That's about when Alex and Simon and I started to rebel in our own way. We'd sneak out at night. Simon would hack their systems, make things tough. We'd go for rides at night in the desert. Hating our lives but too weak to escape it. Then one night Alex and I snuck into the Cube chamber and I touched it. Its energy poured into me, evolving my wetware, my mind. It filled my head with images of your war, your world. So much death and destruction, and Primus. After that...I knew I couldn't be a part of that anymore.I was done killing for them. I ran away.

If I had told Simon and Alex they would have come with...S7 would have poured its considerable resources into finding us...we're already implanted with tracking devices...it was safer for them if they didn't know. And easier for me if I didn't have to face them. Then I came here...to Boulder.

At some point during the story Jazz had turned back around to listen. When she was done she went quiet and he said nothing for a moment. Then finally "Yo, I'm still waiting for the part where I'm supposed to hate you..."

She looked back up at him sharply and he crossed his arms, leaning to his right. "Yeah...you really think I'd hate you because you were forced into doing something you really didn't want to do in the first place? Do you think I'd hate you because of the Autobot you were forced into fighting?" He walked over to and put his hands to either side of her on the bed, and leaned over till he was a foot from her face. "Come on girl...I should hate you because you aren't giving me any credit."

Her eyes went wide when he leaned over at her, but then she couldn't help but look away. She wanted to maintain ocular contact with him. Wanted to, but couldn't. Zoe could feel that strange tugging in her chest again, that indescribable need for something she didn't know, or understand. "I can't forgive myself for that Jazz..." she started to say then paused. "...I don't even know what his name was. He was just... NBE-3. There are so few of you Autobots left...and now because of me, and my friends, maybe one less." She looked up at him plaintively "Do you think I don't think about that every day? Every time I see the insigna on your bodies?"

Jazz was quiet. It was true. The war had off-lined so many of his friends, so many of his kind on both sides. Unnecessary deaths, but he still couldn't see how it was Zoe's fault. She, like him, was only a soldier in a war neither wanted. He'd killed as well. Killed so many he'd lost count. He'd learned long ago that a killer instinct wasn't something you were born with; it was a learned reaction to stimuli. It was also something you had no real control over. Even Ratchet, who hated fighting and violence in general, who would rather use words to disarm a situation, had his share of terminations under his belt. Some of them were fairly gruesome; after all, his chosen weapon was a rotary saw.

He knew he had no words that would soothe this, nothing he could say to ease the burden of the past for her. So he pressed on "...You have to go." He straightened up. "That's what you're going to say next, isn't it?"

Zoe nodded and Jazz shook his head dismissively at her. "How, Zoe? Do you even know where he is?" His memory suddenly flashed back on something she'd yelled to him on the hill. She'd tried to warn him it was a set up, but how did she know this? He had heard no verbal or electronic communication between them stating such a fact. Nor had there been any written or hand signs between them that he was aware of. How had she known? And how did she know his location now? "How did you know it was a trap back there," He asked, "and why didn't Alex sense us the way you can sense us?"

"Remember," Zoe began to explain, "I told you how my friends in the Sector were allowed no communication between us? That was sorta true. We weren't allowed to talk to each other, or write, but when we trained we were allowed music. Our rooms were next to each other. So, we learned to sing. All of us. And in that singing, or humming or whistling, we embedded codes. Delivered by the pitch of the note, or the harmony, or even sometimes hand gestures. At times it was the words of the song itself, other times the message was in the notes that made up the melody. Like I said, we were rebellious teenagers. It's really similar to how 'Bee uses his radio to communicate...or the POWs did in the Vietnam war..." She looked past him, away. "On the hill, the song Alex sang to me had meaning in its words, but the way he sang it...it told me the Decepticons were coming, that they were after me, and that they were located on an oil rig in the waters off the coast of Houston Texas. Not in that many words of course, but I got the picture." She glanced at him. "As far as sensing you, the base has a damping field around it. I put it up when I first brought your body back. If I could sense you then so could Sector 7. I wanted to keep you safe. It works with a sort of counter-noise to the radioactive signals you emit. And that disco ball I put in on your mirror? Well that's just a smaller localized version of the same thing...Happy now?"

She slid off the bed and stood in front of him, putting her hand on his chest plate softly and letting her head fall forward against him over the Pontiac symbol from his alternate mode. "Jazz...I can't tell you how sorry I am. I wish I'd told you. I should have told you, I should have believed in you. I ... I wouldn't blame you if you really did hate me now..."

As she started to push past him, he stopped her, and held her in place in front of his chest. "Zoe..." he said softly. It was killing him; the proximity to her own spark was destroying any resolve he might have had against her. It was almost painful and he pulled her against him gently, letting the energy of his life force reach out and touch hers. He was determined now to show her without words everything he needed to say.

They were chest to chest and when he opened himself to her both physically and emotionally, she found that she couldn't help but respond in kind. She gasped suddenly as a feeling of exhilaration washed over her. Her eyes fluttered closed, but she could still see Jazz. She could feel his aura all around, and it confused her, almost scared her, but his presence was soothing, comforting. Enjoyable. She felt like there was a storm raging just outside the bounds of her consciousness but she was safe, nurtured inside with him. Not only was he near, but she could hear his thoughts, share his memories, there was a world open before her. Inviting her, beckoning her to join, to share in what was his life, to share in everything that made him Jazz. In return she could feel him close to her, sharing in the same, like his arms were around her and she couldn't help but open fully to him as well. She wanted to hold nothing back, as he held nothing from her. Zoe felt like she could give to him her soul while she willingly drowned in his spark. So soft. So warm. So safe.

She felt complete.

Suddenly she could feel another presence and she jerked back abruptly, breaking the contact, and leaving her gasping, disorientated, and weakened. Jazz too, dazed a bit from her unexpected disengagement, pulled backwards slightly, struggling to recover. She shook her head, still holding onto Jazz's forearms for stability and looked past him. Bumblebee stood there in the doorway scratching his head. "Hello...guys? I said Optimus wants to see us."

Zoe looked back at Jazz, whose face had gone from gentle to annoyance in a nano, as his chest plates slid back into place. She ducked past him, grabbed some of the food and then, rushed away out the door. Jazz stood up and glared daggers at his comrade. "Great timing 'Bee." He muttered with irritation as he followed Zoe out of the door.

Once back outside, it was easy for Zoe to slip past the larger Autobots. They didn't know all the secrets of her barn yet, and stealth was her specialty. She stood outside in the cold night air, letting it brush through her unbound hair. She had to decide what to do and fast. Alex might not have that much time. Was Simon there with him? Were they being hurt?

She already knew the nature of the Decepticons. Ironhide had shown her records of their battles. Both on Cybertron and the few they'd had on Earth since their arrival. She knew they were duplicitous, incapable of trust, and her two oldest, if not still closest friends were in their clutches.

Closest friends? Simon and Alex. Was that still true? They had all once been family, but her newest friends, the Autobots, were rapidly approaching that position as well. She knew that even the Autobots couldn't replace Simon and Alex in her heart, the things they'd shared, but Zoe couldn't deny that her Autobot friends were special to her as well.

She couldn't betray them either.

"Arrgh!" she swore aloud, clutching her head in anguish. How could she be forced to make a decision like this? Ultimately she knew, she knew that to keep her newest friends safe, she'd have to go back to her old friends. She'd have to go back to that old life. Sighing, she headed across the bone yard to a shed she'd only visited during her training periods.

Behind her, at the base, the Autobots had assembled in the main room. Optimus Prime, Ironhide, Jazz, Bumblebee and Ratchet all stood in a semi-circle discussing the plan. Discussing Zoe. "What else did she say Jazz?" Optimus asked his lieutenant.

As he related the information he'd been given, Ironhide slammed his hands together with a loud clang. "That's it then. We head to this Houston." His cannons were out again, of course. He was always ready for battle, aching for it this time. It had been a while.

It was Ratchet who protested. "Besides Decepticons, we don't know what else is there. If it is truly Sector 7, we need to go in prepared..." Beside him, Bumblebee shuddered, remembering the foul humans. Ratchet felt for his young friend. If anyone had real reason to hate Sector 7, it was Bumblebee. He put a comforting hand on his younger comrade. Still, simply rushing in there was a bad idea. "...they have already demonstrated a propensity for being able to immobilize us."

Ironhide nodded. "If the humans could damage the Decepticons, then they can damage us as well." Ever tactically minded he was all too aware of the sabot rounds the military used to pump into Brawl, Blackout and then Megatron. He was certain that they would hurt them as well. "Did Zoe give you any more data on this oil platform?"

Jazz shook his head. "Negative. Only that it's off the coast of Houston Texas." He knew that getting there wouldn't be a problem. Each of them could reconfigure their mechanics a bit for water propulsion, it wouldn't be pretty, or fast, but it would function adequately. "We can be there in a day. We should go now." He suggested.

Optimus remained silent. He was unsure of how to proceed. This was Zoe's battle, yes, but it involved the Decepticons, which made it an Autobot battle. From what he'd observed from her, he knew she wouldn't want them involved. While he'd like to indulge her wishes, he didn't see how he could. Regardless of how much technology the humans had gleaned away from Megatron, they were still unequipped to deal effectively with the full might of the Decepticon armada.

Even if that 'armada' only consisted of four at the moment.

The Autobot leader looked around the bay. "Where is Zoe?"

Bumblebee glanced around. He had been sure she had come out of the room with Jazz, though it confused him a bit as to what they were doing in there. It had seemed like they were sparking, but he wasn't sure how well that would work with a human. He was certain he would be unable to spark with Sam or even Michaela. Maybe it was something he should bring up to Ratchet later. "She was right behind me, sir." He replied, respectful as always. But he was worried and looked around.

The other Autobots looked around as well, sensor sweeps emanating from each of them at varying strength levels. None of them were successful. "Slag!" Ironhide swore, not quietly. Even Jazz wore the same expression, which was becoming increasingly frustrated. He was the communications officer...and he couldn't locate a single human. His human at that. It was annoying to say the least. He seemed to lose her a lot these days.

Ratchet searched his data banks, "Let me go and look. I might know where she is." Optimus nodded, getting the feeling that Ratchet was reluctant to speak the location aloud. "She's close though," the medic said to assuage any fears the others might have harbored. "She hasn't left...yet...if she's where I think she is." Jazz gave the medic a questioning look, which Ratchet ignored. He transformed into his alternate mode and rolled out of the bay.