* * *

"intermezzo - n. A brief entertainment between two acts of a play."
- American Heritage Dictionary

Scuba took his place in the lecture hall, marveling at the sense of antiquity it gave. Not for its actual age...it had been built shortly after the end of the Great War, so it was as new as most structures on Cybertron. Most structures that were safe to enter, anyway. No, the feeling was created by the hall's very purpose. Face-to-face lecturing and discussion rather than holoconferencing like most other modes of study. He'd heard it was a preference of the instructor, one of the few surviving Autobots and something of an antiquarian.

The instructor entered the room without speaking. His nondescript Maximal protoform body gave no hints to his old identity, nor did Scuba feel it was his place to pry.

The instructor waited a few moments to allow stragglers to enter the hall and take their places, shuffling a handful of datacards absently.

"Hello, students," the instructor opened, with a clear voice that fitted his role perfectly...slightly weary, with a patrician's air, or perhaps a scientist's. "You may call me Academus. No, that is not my original name, but that is the name you may call me," he said calmly, as if that was enough to end all discussion on the point of his origins. "You may wonder why I have chosen to employ such an archaic mode of instruction, far less efficient than datatrack manipulation. In fact, among organics, the lecture mode is considered next to useless for truly imparting understanding. But, you see, we are not organics. We have a great deal of information at our disposal, but much of it goes unexamined."

Academus stepped out from behind his podium. "You are all here because you wish to learn how to THINK. Not merely process information faster or store more data...a hardware upgrade could accomplish that. No, you want to learn to better use the physical resources at your disposal. And the only way we can do this is to fully examine those deeply-buried assumptions that normally keep us from thinking, which force us into the same patterns every day, as if we were mere automata.

"Today, I felt we should start with one of the deepest assumptions. Can anyone tell me what separates Maximals from Predacons?"

Silence.

Then a voice from the back volunteered, "Five decamets of shielded armor, preferably."

People started to chuckle, then cast nervous glances at Academus.

"No, he has a point," the instructor nodded. "And it is all right to display a sense of humor...it's one of the things that does separate us from automata, even though I have often been accused of not possessing one myself. You see, the ethical differences between Maximal and Predacon...or between their Autobot and Decepticon forebears...are greater than any armored barrier."

"Predacons have ethics?" Scuba asked, mildly surprised at himself for breaking his customary silence.

Academus nodded. "Of course they do, as a group. While there are certainly some Predacons without a moral compass...more than there are Maximals with the same affliction, I'd venture to say...the faction has a very strong guiding principle. Individual codes vary greatly on both sides, but each Predacon agrees with a fundamental ideal, just as each Maximal does. These ideals are at the base of the programming which goes into the creation of a spark, and the gulf between them ensures that there will probably never be true peace, merely cessation of war."

He walked back behind the podium and inserted one of the data cards into a reader mounted in the prop. "I am about to distill the ethics of all Cybertron into two pithy phrases. Be warned, these are simplifications, perhaps oversimplifications, but they are useful ones. One of your assignments for the discussion group next cycle is to examine how your innate ethos arises from one of these statements...you may be surprised to find yourself a Predacon at heart."

Two phrases flashed on the wall behind Academus.

"The responsibility of the strong is to aid the weak."

"The responsibility of the strong is to get stronger."

* * *

The lecture had lasted another hectoclick, but those two phrases stuck in Scuba's head as he walked back to his domicile, a bracing stroll past a few construction sites at the University of Cybertron.

Was it really that simple? Millions of hectocycles of war over the difference between three words and two words? Academus was right, he'd never really considered what made him a Maximal rather than a Predacon, it had always seemed to be so obvious. Yet now, it was anything BUT obvious. Here he was, on a course of self-improvement that would make him stronger in mind, if not in body. Were his motives more like those of a Predacon in this, diverting resources towards his own improvement rather than towards helping those less well-off than he? Obviously self-improvement in and of itself was not against Maximal principles, not even for those who were already powerful. After all, he was improving himself in order to better serve others once he was done. He would explore the galaxy, looking for resources that could be claimed for Cybertron without making any other race suffer in the process...a Predacon would not bother with the training, would seize upon the first weak world he encountered. But...

The sound of alarm klaxons finally penetrated Scuba's consciousness, and he paused to look around. Construction workers were running in all directions, waving frantically for people to clear the area. Perhaps that would be a good ide...

Then the world exploded into a chaos of fire and metal, and the ground dropped out from under Scuba's feet.

* * *

Scuba's consciousness came back online slowly, trying to assess the damage. He registered stresses in his right arm, which had extended fully and was now in danger of breaking at one of its many extension rings. It was his one "non-standard" system, and he idly hoped he wouldn't lose it because of this accident.

Then reality snapped back into place firmly and harshly. Scuba could see starry sky above him and a dark abyss below him. The sounds of panic were all around, above where he now hung. His support was tenuous, he could now see. If his arm held, the slender pipe he grasped would certainly not hold. And there was no other obvious handhold nearby within range of his left arm. Rescue efforts were audible, but distant. He must have been lost in the confusion. He had no flight systems, so if he was not found soon, he would certainly die.

"HELP!" he shouted, feeling a little silly. Something was blocking his radio transmissions, possibly exposed energy cables from the damaged construction site. "I'M DOWN HERE!" he added, in the vain hope someone was within earshot. Considering the din above, this seemed unlikely.

But not impossible.

A figure leaned over the ledge above Scuba, light glinting briefly off his faction emblem.

"A...Predacon!" Scuba gasped.

"Yes," came the somewhat sibilant reply. "We are allowed to study at this university, yes? Now take my hand before you fall, Maximal." He extended a powerfully built arm to barely within reach.

A thousand grisly possibilities flashed through Scuba's mind, most of them revolving around Predacon sabotage and the elimination of possible witnesses. Caught between the Predacon and the deep black pit.

"Come on, Maximal!" spat an impatient growl. "If you wish to die, tell me, that I might spend my time elsewhere."

A slight metallic ping registered on Scuba's audio sensors. The pipe was starting to break. He had to choose now....

Scuba whipped his left arm up into the Predacon's grasp, and was quickly hauled up and back onto steadier ground.

"My name is Jagger, Maximal. You now owe me your life. Remember that," the Predacon snarled. Then he turned and started to walk away.

"Pred...Jagger, wait," Scuba gasped.

Jagger paused, but did not turn around.

"Why...why did you save my life? Leaving aside the fact that our peoples aren't on the best of terms, isn't saving me more of a Maximal action than a Predacon one?"

"Do not pretend to know my spark because you have studied philosophy, Maximal. I saved you because I could, and because it would be dishonorable to turn my back on someone in need. Even my deadliest enemy I would save from such an ignominious demise, if only to slay him myself the next moment. Now wander on home, Maximal."

"The name is Scuba."

Jagger did nothing to acknowledge this, just walked away into the night.

"Thank you," Scuba added. He had much more to think about tonight than what Academus had assigned him....

* * *

Author's Notes:

Scuba is a character from Beast Wars II, which is sorta in continuity with Beast Wars, but might not be. Jagger may or may not be Dinobot...he could simply be another Predacon with a similar outlook. I figure Dinobot can't be the only Predacon with his attitude, after all. Academus is probably Perceptor, but might be Alpha Trion...he won't tell me, either.