A/N: Hey everyone, thanks for the great reviews! TJSfirelord – I've considered including a storyarc like that, but the way I see the story at this point going it might take some time before I get there (plus, the whole WALL-E-EVE-kid thing has been done so often it all starts to look the same after a while. That's not to say I won't; I'd just need to find my own spin on it, to keep things interesting). Really appreciate your feedback too, Consuelo Higdon; I look forward to hearing from you as the story progresses!

All right, this chapter was a little more difficult to write, but I think it turned out okay. Hope you all enjoy it.

Captain? AUTO asked, as he switched back to life and surveyed the human before him, who sat slumped in his chair. There was no response.

Captain? The autopilot tried again. McCrea did not give any hint that he had heard the wheel, but AUTO's sensors picked up the sound of his steady heartbeat and even breathing. He had fallen asleep.

AUTO zipped upward through one of the many portholes in the ceiling he was able to move through, and dropped back down one further. Now he was facing the captain, who was leaning heavily into his headrest, a thin line of drool dribbling down his chin. AUTO noticed that there were bags under his eyes – a first in nearly seven hundred years, as everyone in their comfort aboard the Axiom was usually well rested. He extended a peg and gently poked McCrea in his thick shoulder.

McCrea grumbled in his sleep, and slouched further, mumbling something about a "pizza plant." AUTO tried again, this time with a little more force.

The autopilot was never one to grow impatient, but did not fancy waiting for the captain to wake up on his own; not when he had finally found an answer to his question.

Will you join our colony?

The autopilot extended his tazer, and set the blue arc of electricity to the lowest bar.

ZAP.

"All hands on deck!" shouted McCrea groggily, and jumped out of his seat – promptly falling back into it as his legs gave way. He rubbed the side of his arm as his senses grew sharper, and he noticed what had happened.

"There was no need to shock me," he grunted.

Apologies, said AUTO, unperturbed as ever.

"Don't sweat it," glared McCrea. "What is it?"

Captain, I have come to a decision regarding your offer, said the autopilot.

"Regarding my – " McCrea looked confused for a moment, then recognition dawned across his face. "Of course!" he said, looking pleased. "Well?" He looked him expectantly, now fully awake.

AUTO hesitated. He had given the matter a great deal of thought, and stood by his answer, but now he faced the task of making the captain see the matter through his eyes (or, more appropriately, "eye").

You asked me whether or not I would join your colony, started AUTO. To evolve with you and the rest of humanity and the ship's robotics; to become a part of your community.

"Yes," said McCrea.

I must respectfully decline, said AUTO. I do not wish to be a part of your colony.

McCrea opened his mouth, about to congratulate the wheel in joining them and making the right decision, when AUTO's words hit him. He sat back, looking surprised – he hadn't expected this.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

I do not wish to join your colony, repeated AUTO.

"But – but why not?" asked McCrea. This didn't make sense –

I do not belong in your community, said AUTO. I am the ship's autopilot; as such I am confined to the Axiom, and would have no use or function outside of its walls. I do not wish to be a part of your community, as I have up until this point governed mankind's existence under the careful control and maintenance of the ships robotics. Now they are beyond my influence, and so my part in that matter has come to an end.

McCrea sat in silence. He was starting to see what AUTO was talking about, so in a way it did make sense. Partly.

However, said AUTO. I do wish to remain activated. Therefore I will accept whatever directive you had in mind for me. I just wanted to make it expressively clear that I have no desire to mingle with everyone else, outside or in here. I am still the autopilot, and as such outrank everyone – except yourself.

"So … it's pride, isn't it?" asked McCrea, who was starting to smile.

Pride is a human concept, argued AUTO. After a moments silence, he continued – But, if you wish to see it that way, then yes. It is a matter of pride.

McCrea laughed. It had been a long time since AUTO had heard the sound of laughter – genuine, unrestrained laughter – aboard the Axiom. Yet it did not sound mocking or condescending at all.

"You're proud," said McCrea. "This is good. You're developing a personality."

Negative, said AUTO coldly.

"Oh no you don't," chuckled McCrea, shaking a finger at his red optic. "You're not weaseling your way out of this one. You just said so yourself – you're proud. Pride is a human concept. Those were your words."

I was just agreeing with an easier to understand descriptive, rather than launch into a lengthy argument – began AUTO, but McCrea laughed all the harder.

"You're being evasive!" he roared. "You're trying to get through this conversation quickly, and so you picked the shorter route – not one based on logic, but on what you'd prefer! You've chosen preference!"

I –

"Preference means you have a set of values," continued McCrea. He did not know when he had developed such a keep ability to penetrate through the facades of people, but the fact that he was now doing so with a robot – and AUTO, nonetheless – gave him confidence. Perhaps … he was becoming wise, just as AUTO was slowly becoming more human? "Values are a part of your personality. Personality, AUTO. This is good!"

So, started AUTO, who seemed keen on readdressing his former point to the captain. You have no problem with my refusal to join your colony? You'll allow me to stay active?

"Of course!" said McCrea. "Whether or not you want to be a part of our colony is your decision. Now, if you start to impede us or act against us, that'd be a different matter. But so long as you're not against us – if you're for us, and work alongside us – you can stay active. You don't have to mingle."

Agreed, said AUTO. Now, what would be my new directive, captain?

"Ah yes," said McCrea, and sat up straighter in his chair; his tone more business-like. "It wasn't too long ago – wow, was it already this morning?" He paused, looking surprised. "Time flies, doesn't it?"

I suppose so, said AUTO. He had never had much difficulty discerning the flow of time. His seven hundred years of activity had been just that – seven hundred years. No big deal.

"Yes, well, anyway," continued McCrea, "I had been going over a couple of statistics projected out by the computer, and I realized that we – the population of the Axiom – we're not enough to repair Earth."

Of course not, captain, said AUTO.

"Of – oh, so you knew this?" McCrea asked, flatly.

Yes, captain, said AUTO.

"Er … would care to explain why you never mentioned it before?" asked McCrea.

There was no precedent to do so, said AUTO. However, if you would like, I could go into the details pertaining to your finding.

"Yes, please," said McCrea. AUTO swiveled upright a bit, and the lights behind his optic began to flash brightly – he was calculating.

It is estimated that, in order to repair Earth to a thriving global ecosystem, one would need an approximate total of … he paused briefly, the lights behind his "eye" continuing to flash. 5.987 billion in manpower, and a number either equal to or greater than this in robotics. These would also have to be distributed to all former major cities across the globe, in order to ensure for the greatest impact. Humanity would then, as time progressed, branch out, as it did before, into the more remote areas of the world. The estimated time for complete global restoration under said circumstances would be … more calculating … two hundred and forty-five years from now.

McCrea slumped back into his seat. "Two hundred and …" He raised a pudgy hand and rubbed the side of his face as AUTO's words hit home.

Two hundred and forty-five years.

It was shorter than he could have ever hoped for, but his original dread had been confirmed. They would never live to see Earth fully restored. Not even the children, the infants that had been aboard once they had landed would.

But the robots … they would endure. WALL-E and EVE would endure. WALL-E … McCrea sighed heavily. The thought of WALL-E, after seven hundred years of working endlessly about the most mundane of duties with no foreseeable end in sight, finally witnessing the rebirth of Earth – all his efforts realized – it did give him some hope for the future. Yes, McCrea thought. If there was anyone who deserved their efforts more, it was he. If they wouldn't work to heal the planet for themselves, then they would for WALL-E.

"All right, AUTO," said McCrea. "Then it's time to get started."

Sir, said AUTO. You still have not assigned me a new directive.

"Those numbers you projected," said McCrea. "We don't have them. Not here, on the Axiom – not alone. But they're out there." He nodded towards the wallpaper on the far wall, of the countless star liners taking flight into deep space. "It's about time we brought them home as well."

I … see, said AUTO.

"I'll need your help to contact them," said McCrea. "Now, at this point, everything's hypothetical. We don't know if we'll be able to reach any of them from here; they could be anywhere in the galaxy. So we'll set out to start getting things ready to make contact. Once we do, we'll send EVE and WALL-E to them with a plant specimen to activate the automatic hyper jump back home."

You will also need me to establish a subroutine that negates Override A113, said AUTO. The other autopilots will still be following that directive.

"You can do that?" McCrea said, astonished.

I can try, said AUTO.

"Excellent," said McCrea. "We'll work on that as well."

The captain stood up, and walked over to the window, his resolve growing firmer. He looked out onto the colony below, and saw the distant figures of EVE and WALL-E rolling slowly to their truck, just on the horizon.

"It'll be a matter of multi-tasking, no doubt about it," he said, more to himself than to AUTO. "We'll be trying to bring everyone else home as well as starting to clean up our own little area of the world."

Sir? asked AUTO after a moment. The captain had fallen silent, and had a pensive look on his face. Might I ask what you are thinking?

"What I'm thinking?" repeated McCrea. He turned to face the autopilot, and AUTO felt a flicker of surprise to see a smile on the human's face.

"I'm thinking … we just might have a chance."