Starscream looks nervous. I don't blame him. I'm nervous as all Pit myself.

"All rise."

I can't feel my legs. Groove's hand is a warm anchor on my back.

Rachel looks at me. "I'm calling Cynosura to the stand."

It's not that far. But it feels like I walk forever before I can sit down.

The chair is uncomfortable. It's too big for me, probably since it's meant to work for the bigger frames as well. I feel like a child, kicking my legs.

Well, it's not the first time I've been small around these mechs. It probably won't be the last.

Starscream isn't looking at me. He's looking down at his hands, biting his lower lip. Cliffjumper is staring at him.

Rachel moves, pulling my attention. "State your name and occupation, please."

I swallow. "My name is Cynosura. I'm a psychologist. One of few on Cybertron."

"And you have been treating the defendant?"

"I have been his main therapist for the last six months' time, yes."

She glances up at me. "Why only the last six months?"

Here comes the balancing act. Good thing we planned for this in advance. "Because I only recently woke from stasis." True. "It took me a little time to acclimatize to Cybertron as it is now. As soon as I felt ready, I started practicing." All true.

"And before you were in stasis?"

"I was a neutral." Also truth.

"And how did you come to practice psychology? I understand it's a fairly new profession on Cybertron."

"That's correct. Previous to the time spent on Earth, we had no such specializations. My knowledge is largely based on a series of educational material the Autobots brought from Earth." Truth, though the timeline has been fudged a bit. I do remember studying from a lot of those books when I did my degree. "As you know, we're able to download knowledge instead of learning it in the traditional way."

This truth-bending is an interesting mental balancing act. I really have to mind my words.

"And you're treating patients now?"

"Yes. I have a practice on Cybertron. I started with the easier clients, and worked my way up to the others."

Rachel turns to the judges. "I want to repeat that both of Cynosura's clients have signed written agreements that allow her to discuss issues that have come up in therapy, as they pertain to this case."

"Accepted," one of the judges say. "Please continue."

Rachel nods and looks back at me. "How many sessions have you had with Starscream?"

The opening questions keep on coming. How long our sessions last. Who's present. The type of treatment. I try to stay calm, to keep it simple so I can focus on saying the right things while not saying too much, but it's hard.

And then Rachel looks at me. "In your professional opinion, what is Starscream's diagnosis?"

Finally. "Complex post-traumatic stress disorder with dissociation. When I first met him after waking up, he was completely detached from reality. He was living in isolation, under guard, seemingly unable to realize that he'd killed Megatron or even that Megatron was dead in the first place. Whenever Megatron's death was brought up in conversation, Starscream would retreat and redirect both the conversation and his own thoughts. It had gotten to the point where it was an automatic process written into his priority tree."

I glance at Starscream, then at Ratchet. I'm not too clear on what we actually did that day, but hopefully it won't be too wrong. "Psychological treatment in itself would not have helped at that point. The responses were coded into his system. So Ratchet and I led a complicated defragmentation on his system, to get rid of the bad code strings and corroded memory loops. It was invasive and difficult, but it worked. After that, Starscream's been undergoing more conventional treatment, and is making good progress. I have every faith that he will be able to integrate in society again."

Rachel nods, and I dare a glance at the judges. It doesn't look like I lost them during the technical explanation.

"In your opinion, what could cause such issues in the first place?"

"Complex PTSD is usually caused by ongoing trauma, often over an extended period of time, and often abuse." Damn, it's hard explaining this without talking about Earth or my previous experiences.

"And in Starscream's case? Do you think it was caused by abuse?"

"The medical evidence and eyewitness accounts indicate as much," I reply cautiously. I'm sure the prosecutor will grill me on this later.

"Thank you." Rachel glances at the judges. "No further questions at this time."

Wait, what? That was a lot less questioning than I'd expected.

The prosecutor stands. Behind him, the aliens are staring at me with something close to glee on their faces.

"Do you claim to be a fully trained psychologist, despite having no actual training?"

Man, this guy is straight to the point.

"I have downloaded and integrated every single text and case study on psychology that Earth had to offer when the Autobots were here two hundred years ago," I reply dryly. "I'd call myself an expert in my field at this point."

Ratchet snorts, and I can see the grin from here. Hah. Eat that, Alliance suckers.

He gives up that line of questioning. "Can Earth psychology be applied to Cybertronians? After all, you have processors, not brains."

This guy is an asshole.

"Our minds function the same way yours do," I point out. "Electrical signals. The construction material is somewhat different, but the similarities are still significant."

"Generally, what kind of situations would cause a complex post-traumatic stress disorder?"

It feels like he's throwing himself on everything I said, trying to find a weak spot to dig into. Rachel is frowning.

I don't intend to give him anything to work with.

"Long-term abuse is a typical factor. Especially if the abuser is a trusted individual, like a family member or lover. Domestic violence can easily lead to complex PTSD."

He hmms noncommittally. "And what makes you so sure that any of this pertains to Starscream?"

I stare at him. This should be obvious. "I've seen the witness statements. Read his medical files going back all through the war. He was abused."

The prosecutor looks up at the judges. "The documents Cynosura mentions have been made available to you, your honors. Now," he turns to me again, a cruel glint in his eyes. "In your opinion. Is Starscream guilty of murdering Megatron?"

I blink. There are angry murmurs from where Skywarp and Thundercracker are sitting. "I'm not sure murder is the right term. As far as I've been told, Starscream killed Megatron in self-defense."

"Ah, yes. However, Starscream had often threatened to overthrow Megatron, hadn't he?"

"That's what the file indicated." I shrug. "As I said, I was neutral during the war. I didn't see what happened."

He moves on like he hasn't heard me. "In fact, Starscream made a point out of opposing Megatron any time he could, didn't he?"

"I can only say what I've read in the statements." I'm getting a bit annoyed with the guy. "If you want actual answers as to what happened, I suggest you ask the ones who were actually there."

"Oh, I intend to." He waves my words away. "Would an abused person be able to fight back at every point like that?"

I fight to not roll my eyes. "Everyone has different breaking points. Starscream has a lot of will, that's been clear from day one of our interaction. I'm not surprised he fought back before finally snapping."

"Do you believe he should have snapped earlier?"

"Everyone has different breaking points," I repeat, slowly, like I'm talking to a child. It kind of feels like I am. "And we don't choose those."

He doesn't react to my tone. Jerk. "Considering all you've said – the possible abuse, the diagnosis, all that. Was Starscream in his right mind when he performed war crimes on Megatron's orders? Can he be held accountable for his actions?"

Now we're at the core of the matter. I'll need to keep calm and focused here. "Those are two questions with very different answers. Was he in his right mind? Yes, as much as anyone suffering under an abusive authority figure can be, and more so in the beginning of the war than the end. Starscream was an effective soldier, a good tactician, a very intelligent scientist, and he still possesses all of those faculties. He may have argued whenever Megatron made a stupid decision, he may have fought back, but he had little influence. Had he refused to follow Megatron's orders, he stood at real risk of losing his life or being permanently injured, which in the Decepticons amounted to the same thing. And if that happened, Megatron would have sent someone else to do the same job, someone who might have been less effective, less intelligent, less able to get their troops back out of the situation. I believe Starscream did what he had to do.

"Now, as to the question of blame?" I frown at the prosecutor. "Do we blame soldiers for following their commanding officer's orders? Do we blame captains for what their generals ask them to do? I believe that it is written in the bylaws of this very court that the acts of a soldier in obedience to a military order are justifiable if he didn't know or didn't have reasonable grounds for believing that the act ordered was illegal, either under the laws and customs of warfare or under the criminal laws of his country. There is also a proviso for orders that are enacted under stress."

The judge closes to me is taking notes. I hope that's a good thing.

"Under those conditions, I believe Starscream felt like he had no other choice. He was committed to the Decepticon cause, the fight for freedom from slavery. He was committed to getting as many of his troops out alive as possible. There was no intergalactic uproar claiming that his orders were illegal. Point of fact, the very alliance that could have stepped in and made a point of this chose to ignore the entire conflict." I aim a glare at the aliens for good measure. "In my opinion, Starscream cannot be held accountable for the orders of his immediate superior." I glance at the judges. "In terms of power, Starscream had as little as anyone else under Megatron."

The prosecutor doesn't look too happy. Neither do the Alliance aliens, for that matter.

"No further questions." The prosecutor sits back down, and I'm free to go.


Thundercracker leans back on the stand. He doesn't look too happy with the prosecutor. "Yes, I've led raids when Starscream was unable to. Usually because he was in the medbay, slagged beyond function."

"And why didn't you argue against your orders?"

"Because Megatron threatened to shoot me if I didn't obey immediately. I don't know if you've ever had a fusion cannon pointed directly at your face, but it's not the way I'd choose to die."

"Hmm." The prosecutor frowns up at Thundercracker. "But weren't the missions you were sent essentially war crimes?"

Rachel jumps up. "Objection! He's leading the witness."

"Sustained." The middle judge looks at the prosecutor. "Rephrase your question."

"Alright, your honor." He glares at Thundercracker, as if this is somehow his fault. "To the best of your knowledge, did the missions you were sent on constitute war crimes?"

"Some might have been. But you don't go to war for millennia without violating that Geneva convention of yours in some way." He shrugs. "If I wanted to survive, I obeyed. I did my best to get in and out as quickly and efficiently as possible, minimize loss of life and get as little attention from our enemies as possible. That was all I could do, in the circumstances."

"And did you think it was enough?"

Thundercracker's sneering now. He's clearly running out of patience. I don't blame him. "Is anything you do in war ever enough? We always lost troops. We never had enough energon. We never fragging won, and we never lost either, it was all just a grind that didn't seem to ever end. And I know exactly who to blame for that. Honestly, I'm glad he's dead. At least now we have a chance at life."


It's been the longest day. And there are more long days to come.

"You did good, Belle." Groove nuzzles my cheek. "Rachel said so too."

"I'm glad I'm off the hook for tomorrow. I don't think I can take more than one day like this at once." My brain is fried.

And the day isn't over yet, either.

I look over at Skywarp, where he's sitting soaking up the sun. "Is Starscream okay?"

"He's okay." Skywarp flashes me a smile. "Skyfire's with him. He did much better today than he'd feared, so he's more optimistic than I've heard from him so far. I think he'll manage the next couple of days okay."

"I'm glad." I dim my optics again, lean my head back against Groove's plating. This close, I can feel his spark humming over my cheek. There's a strange vibration to it – it's probably got something to do with the distance between us and the rest of the gestalt. "How's your spark?"

"It's fine." He strokes my plating gently. "I actually commed First Aid about it, Soundwave helped me boost the signal. He said it's perfectly normal and will ease up when we get back."

"Good. I don't like it when you're in pain." I yawn. "I need my mecha healthy."

"There's nothing wrong with my health. Take a nap, babe. You look like you need it."

Don't mind if I do. It's been a long, long day.


"In your opinion, could Starscream have changed the course of the war?"

Astrotrain stares at him. The way this is going, the prosecutor's fast on the way to making himself hated by every Cybertronian on Earth. "I don't deal in pseudo-history." It's almost a sneer, and I'm going to buy Astrotrain a box of Swerve's treats when we get back.

"Let me clarify, then. Was there any point in the war where Starscream could have made a different decision than he did, and the war could have ended sooner?"

That earns him a snort as Astrotrain shakes his head. "You humans. You're so influenced by your short life spans. Was there something he could have done differently, yeah, probably. Who knows what that would have done to the war. Only thing I can think of is him not joining Megatron in the first place, but I have a feeling that the rebellion would have happened anyway. Which, since you're so interested in guessing how things might have gone, would probably have ended up without any changes happening. The revolution would have failed, and we would still be slaves to our functions, forced to live in squalor and pain because of what we transform into." He smiles at Starscream. "I'm glad the Winglord joined the Cause. Especially because he actually did end the war eventually."


I'm sitting on nails when Starscream takes the stand. I know he was discussing with Rachel whether he should or not as late as this morning. Apparently they've landed on risking it.

The prosecutor gets to start this time, for some reason. Maybe Rachel wants to do damage control afterward.

He looks up. "Hello, Starscream."

Starscream nods graciously. "Human."

I can feel Sideswipe laughing silently next to me. The prosecutor looks less than amused.

"You've heard the charges. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty." He waves the question away. "Obviously."

The prosecutor seizes on that like a drowning man. "Why obviously?"

"Because for all my protests, for all I fought back, I didn't change a blasted thing." Starscream sneers. "I had good, verifiable calculations that the war could have ended ages ago. But Megatron, fool that he was, wouldn't listen."

"Did you ever think that lack of competent lieutenants meant that Megatron couldn't place his full focus on the war, which meant it got prolonged?"

"Objection!" Rachel jumps to her feet again. "Compound question, your honors."

"Also, he's being a general douchebag," Sideswipe mutters next to me.

"Sustained. Council will refrain from speculation as well." The judge in the middle looks sternly at the prosecutor.

Who looks like he's eaten something sour. "In your opinion, did a lack of skilled lieutenants hinder Megatron's war effort?"

Starscream laughs. It's not a happy sound. "Lack of skilled leadership hindered Megatron's war effort. He was a charismatic revolutionary, but his tactical skills were far outstripped by his will. He didn't know what he was doing once the Decepticons had grown to a full-sized army."

I have a feeling that I'm seeing some of the old, snarky Starscream resurface. He doesn't seem nervous or scared, just arrogant and confident. It's a good look.

"He had very skilled lieutenants," Starsceam continues. "He had me. He had Soundwave, whose skills are unsurpassed. He had Shockwave tamed to hand. But the oaf didn't listen to us unless we said what he wanted to hear. We were left doing damage control a lot of the time."

It's a joy to watch Starscream in action. I can't believe I worried for him. He answers every question, some with a mix of deflection and mockery, and most with a look of disdain on his face. The prosecutor is getting more and more frustrated.

"No further questions," he growls finally, stalking back to his seat.

Rachel rises gracefully. "Hello, Starscream."

He smirks down at her. "Hello, human."

She clearly isn't affected by his attitude. Probably because she's interviewed him before. "Do you hold yourself accountable for Megatron's actions?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because that would be moronic." He shakes his head. "I hold myself accountable for my own mistakes. Not his."

"And which mistakes do you consider yours?"

He hesitates, now. It's clearly harder for Starscream to talk about his shortcomings, to be honest about his feelings, than it is to complain about Megatron. That's not really surprising.

"There are only a few that matter in the end," he says finally. "I should have taken my air force and left sooner, when it became apparent that Megatron was determined to follow a path that would lead to utter destruction instead of the egalitarian world he'd promised us. I should have allied closer with Soundwave much sooner – maybe together we could have done something." He shakes his head. "It's much too late to worry about might-have-beens and could-haves."

"Starscream," Rachel says softly. "Tell us what happened when Megatron died."

I lean forward slightly. I haven't actually heard this story before. And I'm not the only one listening intently.

Starscream sighs. "Unbelievable as it is, I actually hadn't meant to kill him. Not then. For once, I actually hadn't planned to hurt him. But he changed the plan last minute, and I – he couldn't be allowed to go through with it."

"Go through with what?"

"He had a new doomsday weapon." Starscream snorted. "He always did, and they never worked. This one was supposed to bore into the Earth's crust, use the magma's heat to repower Cybertron. It wasn't going to work, obviously, but as usual he wouldn't listen to us."

"And the change?"

Starscream is clearly unsettled now. He's fidgeting. "He was down in the drilling tunnel. I guess he found something he liked down there. He came back up covered in this strange substance, grinning like a mad mech, telling me Earth had so much promise he would be foolish to destroy it. So instead…"

"Instead?" Rachel prompts, when a few seconds have gone by without him saying anything.

"Instead, he decided that he could sacrifice Cybertron to cyberform Earth." Starscream shakes his head almost desperately. "I fought to go home. I've always fought to go home. We were going to rebuild, make it better. And now he's going to destroy it completely? He can't be allowed to."

He's slipped into present tense. His optics have paled. I'm halfway out of my chair before I realize I'm moving. Ratchet's standing too.

But Rachel looks at us, waves us back. I don't really want to listen, but… Maybe she can be trusted to be responsible.

"I have this gun, see," Starscream continues, optics unfocused. "I never used it. It's too powerful. It doesn't leave any survivors, nothing that can be repaired." He laughs lightly. "I used to be afraid Megatron would use it on me, so I hid it. But he likes it when I suffer. That death would be too good for me. So I still have it." He looks around a bit, until he spots Thundercracker and Skywarp. "Remember Aphrax-3? When he torn my wings off and mounted them on the wall? I couldn't fly for months. I wanted to kill myself."

"Starscream," Rachel says carefully. "What happened?"

"He was going to rebuild the spacebridge," Starscream says desperately. "He's going to rebuild the spacebridge and use it to bridge Cybertron here, but he can't do that, that'll destroy it! I can't let him destroy Cybertron! But he isn't listening to me." His hands move, seemingly without his input; lifting defensively, accessing subspace, hands curling around air and raising in front of him.

He's reliving what happened right here in the courtroom.

Damn, I was right to be worried. Hopefully we can snap him back out of this. Ratchet is practically vibrating.

"I can't let him destroy home," Starscream says quietly, and then twitches as if hit by the recoil from an invisible gun. His hands open as he freezes. He looks lost.

"Starscream?" Rachel walks closer. "Starscream? God." She looks up at the judge. "I ask for a break to give the witness medical attention, your honors."

"Take the rest of the day," the middle judge replies at once. "We will resume tomorrow."

I'm down by Starscream's stand before he's even finished talking, Ratchet hot on my heels.


Dear diary,

Starscream's recharging. He's in the middle of a mech pileup, Thundercracker and Skywarp and Bluestreak and Soundwave and Skyfire there with him, Cliffjumper keeping watch as usual. Ratchet says he needs a deep defrag, but he should be fine. He didn't relapse completely.

That's a serious relief.

I'm glad we got the rest of the day off. I don't think I could have gone back inside the courtroom with Starscream in that state if someone had aimed a gun at me.

Starscream killed Megatron for Cybertron. That's what finally pushed him over the edge.

It makes sense. Starscream's proven that he can withstand all manners of punishment, deal with any kind of pain, if he wants to. He's extremely resilient. No wonder his mind broke down so completely when he finally snapped.

Also, I hope that gun's been destroyed. I don't want to ever encounter something that could kill Megatron with one shot.


It's Hot Rod who finally manages to drag me outside. He's very persuasive, and very exuberant, and very right when he talks about how nice the weather is and how smooth the runway is and look, Cynns, don't you want to just drive until it all fades away?

So we do.

Racing with Hot Rod is different from racing with Arcee. For one, he's not determined on testing me every second. We're just having fun. And he's such a kid about it, swerving and spinning and damn near stopping my spark once or twice with worry. Crazy brat.

When I finally slow to a stop outside the hangar, I'm the best kind of spent. I ache everywhere, my energy level's low, and I'm perfectly happy just lying there and looking up at the sky.

"So that's what a melted Cybertronian looks like." Dominic's laughing at me. Fragger. "I have to say, she makes a pretty picture."

Ratchet smirks. He's left Star alone to recharge, and Optimus to do the same. It's nice to have him hanging out with us. I think he needed it after today. "She is well put together, I'll give you that much. Only the very best materials and skilled labor."

Dominic nods, as if they're discussing an actual motorbike and not, well, me. "Did you plan out the technical specs in advance?"

"Some." Ratchet prods me with his foot. I'm too exhausted to move or even care. "Some of it needed to wait until we saw what kind of spark we were working with. But we had plans for this frame design all along. And I have to say, she turned out spectacular." He grins. "Of course she did, we made her like that."

"Alright, stop your teasing," I grumble good-naturedly. "I'm hot, I get it. I'm also parched." I make grabby hands at Ratchet. "Energon?"

"You're a brat." But he smiles and hands me a cube. "Don't drink that lying down, you'll choke on it."

I sit up and lean against his legs. He makes a convenient backrest. "How's everyone doing?"

"Well enough." Ratchet strokes my head like I'm a child. "No one was very happy about today. And taking half the day off means that the trial will go on that much longer. But we can handle that."

"We have to handle that," Streetwise says, sitting down next to me. "I think we'll do okay." He nudges his shoulder against mine. "How are you holding up? Missing your other lover yet?"

"All the time," I admit. Having First Aid gone feels like almost a physical ache. "But there's so much going on that I don't have time to think about it. And I remind myself that we're only going to be gone for a short time."

"True. I know Optimus wants to go back before he gets too much further into his carry."

That reminds me. I spin on the floor until I can look up at Ratchet, and turn on my puppy eyes. "Ratchet, whose are the other sparklings?"

He boops my nose. "Not my secrets to tell."

"Aw." I pout, not that I think it'll do any good. "Any hints?"

"I don't think you know the Neutrals. And the Autobot carrier is on Cybertron." He leans back against the wall and offlines his optics. "That'll have to be enough to sate your curiosity."

Yeah, right. I'm going to be wondering about this until I figure it out. Plus, he didn't say anything about the Decepticon.

Hot Rod has finally tired himself out and flops down next to me. "Man, that was good. This surface is awesome."

Streetwise pokes his side. "Can't believe it took you this long to run yourself dry. What do you fuel on, rocket fuel?"

I listen to them banter with half an audial. Despite everything that's happened today, I'm far too relaxed and comfortable out here in the sunlight. I'm going to enjoy it as much as I can.


Author's note: Thundercracker's line about the Geneva convention has been gratefully borrowed from More Than Meets The Pod, the episode titled Does heart have brain.