"Are you trying to find an amica or something?" Thundercracker couldn't help but laugh. The Autobot sounded like a newbuild. Sure, it was a little mean. "What do you expect? You're wearing that badge. You talk like an overseer. No, worse, like someone who owned overseers." When his trine had joined the Decepticons, he'd learned fast to change his glyphs. At speed of fist.

"I will not remove my insignia." Mirage said tightly. Rewind's suggestion had saved itself to his drives. A pragmatic choice. But the issue was more than filler and paint. He had earned his Autobrand. He'd fought under it and for it. Mecha had tried to take it away. He wasn't ready.

"Not asking you to." The Seeker cut in quickly, certain. "That's something entirely completely your own choice." He was surprised how strongly he felt about it. Right or wrong, Mirage had picked a side. Swapping around hedging your bets was contemptible. "You're never going to be a Decepticon. Why try to fake being a Neutral?"

"I would like to fit in." The noble asserted. "I need to know how to comport myself."

"The parole criteria..." Thundercracker ventured then stopped when the 'Bot vented in frustration. Not 'at' him. Just at everything. "There's not a lot else you can do, honestly. You're with me and I'm on leave. So that's comfortably dull. Or dully comfortable."

"Dully comfortable." Mirage arranged the glyphs pensively. "I am at ease but not at peace."

"We could start a literature society." He suggested quickly so if he sounded stupid, at least he'd sound stupid briefly. "Most of the grunts are barely literate but the techies can and some of the officers are downright urbane. Especially deep-range naval officers. Its either read or deactivate of boredom."

"Are you using me as an excuse to start a Book Club?" There was quite a difference between a Critic Circle and a bunch of mecha chatting about popular novels. Mirage got the impression Thundercracker wasn't thinking of Golden Age sagas. "You can't make people read your fiction."

"I'm not going to make people read anything." The jet snapped defensively. He hadn't been thinking of that. Sure, having a couple of mecha who'd proofread would be nice but he'd have to trust them not to laugh. Which made him feel a bit slag over laughing at the Autobot. "I thought we could do something together that interests us both. You want to socialise."

"I do." Mirage admitted. He picked up Tempest when the sparkling shuffled into reach, checking his cockpit for friction. Sparklings didn't have the layers of ablative nanites to protect their protoforms therefore abraded easily. Their sensors weren't always refined enough to detect damage until it hurt. "We can't invite people to Soundwave's home, and I doubt he is a literature buff. So we would have to go out, which means bringing Tempest."

"There are rec rooms. A couple of freighters came in held together with foil. They were repurposed into overflow barracks but they're empty now. Designated common areas. Mecha book them for stuff." Workshops, mostly. He'd looked into leasing one just in case he ever figured out what to do with himself. Then he'd got sparked and thought he had a flight path.

"Would you be willing to socialise with Autobots?" He did want to socialise, certainly, but Mirage was reluctant to leap into the company of Decepticons. Perhaps if he didn't know them, it wouldn't be awkward. Very few Cons had served on Earth and his service on Cybertron had been largely espionage or counter-espionage.

"Depends on the 'Bot." Most of the ones he disliked the most hadn't surrendered. No way this side of the Well would he get chummy with Sideswipe. "Thinking of asking for expressions of interest on the Hub?"

"It could be a good start. The moderates are more likely to have cultural interests and any of their chaperones who would have to attend too might find themselves curious." Mirage set Tempest back on the bed after a reassuring cuddle. The sparkling had a low tolerance for inspections. "And if the responses are offensive or insulting, the posts can be deleted with nothing more said."

Thundercracker weighed the potential for mockery versus having a low stress place to congregate, threw in some personal urges, and felt his motivator tick up with positive feedback because doing something was better than staring at the walls. His trine would see him not wallowing in misery at being shunned. So they could suck exhaust. He posted a new thread with open access on the general chat then sent a link to his conjunx so Mirage could post it on the 'Bot sub-forum.

Then he set a timer for himself so he wouldn't camp and fret.

They went to the kitchen to rummage about. Soundwave wasn't much of a cook but with so many symbionts he didn't need to be. Whatever he made, someone would eat. Thundercracker choked down another dose of medgrade before picking over a plate of runny goodies. Supply lines were solidifying though they didn't have reserves of everything yet. Still, partially set or not, he was going to try the tin gels.

Rumble, Frenzy, and a white/pink mech ran in, grabbed handfuls of snacks and ran out again shouting about a show starting. Mirage ran a recognition check but the only near match for the third cassette was an Autobot. He would ask Rewind later in as close to privacy as one could find rooming with a telepath.

A ping from his comm distracted the noble from defending his lunch from Tempest. He subspaced the cube, which merited a vexed beep from the sparkling, who didn't yet have a solid grasp on object permanence, and answered the comm.

::hey mech saw your post:: Beachcomber's designation had the qualifier 'parolee' and 'science division' with tags for a mech with the designation 'Fractyl' as well as off-planet permissions. He'd evidently been working as a geologist though from the signal strength it was clear he was on Cybertron.

::hello:: Mirage returned the greeting with his own full designation, including his status as Thundercracker's secondary conjunx. He didn't expect the peace-loving dune buggy to recoil but he wanted to be transparent. ::query: do you wish to join::

::sure do:: The Autobot's response hummed with positive signifiers. ::when and where:: A link to a scheduling application followed, with large blocks allocated to geo-surveys. Beachcomber was being kept busy. ::query: permission to bring my buddy [designation: Fractyl]:: The glyphs that followed showed Fractyl as a Predacon geochemist with a notably sub-par military service record. ::asking but he has to come anyway::

::query: [designation: Fractyl] is your parole officer:: The spy noted 'buddy' which was an Earth-ism a few ranks below amica but higher than acquaintance or co-worker. Definitely a more personal relationship than guard.

::well yeah but mech is groovy:: It was a testament to Beachcomber's fondness for Sol-3 that he had crafted a glyph to convey the melodic/casual/affable state of 'grooviness'.

::permission granted:: Mirage did not comment on the non-standard description. He had never met the Predacon. For all he knew, Fractyl might well be as slack and unfocused as the Autobot geologist. ::location and time to be posted soon::

::read you mech:: Beachcomber signed off with a series of friendly status markers then posted his confirmed interest on the thread in the Autobot sub-forum. A notification from Thundercracker's original thread showed Fractyl posting on the general forum, with a cross-link to Beachcomber's. They were evidently quite buddy.

Thundercracker noticed his expression before he smoothed his face-plate to socially appropriate equanimity.

"Some mech rude?" He asked in that precursor tone 'Cons used right before they flicked the safety off. The Seeker wasn't starting anything but he was readying to start in case someone else was starting something. It seemed to the Autobot that their threat response triggered if someone vented too loudly.

"Very much not." Mirage reassured. "Beachcomber seems to be getting along well with his parole officer. Not that I would expect him to be obstreperous but..." He paused, debating how much he should share. "Was there particular care used in pairing parolees with their chaperones?"

"You think Soundwave does anything slapdash? He has final clearance on all one-on-one assignments." Thundercracker hadn't gone to the Host just because he had a soft spot for bitlets. The 3IC knew things about people. The jet had been sure Soundwave would help him find the right surrogate for Tempest. "There's a security committee but yeah, particular care was used."

"I did wonder at the time why he not Vortex interrogated me." The racer skirted around the personal implications of parolees 'buddying' with guards. There were unpleasant possibilities of abuse of power. He would keep an optic out, Welfare Office or no.

"We're serious about the armistice." The Seeker said pointedly, helping Tempest to sit up in his lap before offering him a line. Mirage heard the subtext; no one would be sparking if they weren't committed to peace in at least the medium term.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't believe you." Mirage pulled out his cube and sipped it ruminatively. "But I would feel better if more of our officers had surrendered."