Not much to say this time, save to apologize for the wait. Enjoy!

"For far too long," Contrail said, pacing along the edge of the stage, "Seekers have been regarded by the common Cybertronian as inferior. They use us, lock us up, treat us as little better than beasts. And for no other reason than because we are not of the same race. We are different from them, and so they can justify any form of abuse. No, not even justify it - justifications are for bots who know what they're doing is wrong. Why should they make excuses for following what they believe is the natural order of things? They are the descendants of Primes, and Seekers were created to serve those Primes. Why should they have to justify anything when in their optics, we only exist to be slaves?"

Soft hisses and rumbling growls filled the room as Seekers pressed closer to their flockmates. Starscream ducked under an aggressively flared wing without taking his optics off of Contrail, slowing to a stop near the edge of the stage where a pair of larger mechs hid him from easy view. Above them all, Contrail threw out his arms and raised his voice.

"Perhaps a better question is, why should they be allowed to continue? Why shouldn't we fight back? They may have the advantage of numbers, but we have flight. We have weapons, more advanced sensory nets, and our ability to work together as a single unit. And we have allies, if we're brave enough to accept them. Megatron, the leader of the Decepticons himself, has approached me to offer the Seekers a place in his army, and in the new world he intends to build. And I ask you, why should we refuse? We have just as much right to freedom as any Cybertronian, and just as much right to take it from our oppressors. If we pass up this great opportunity, we face being used against those who would help us, because the Autobots and their new Prime will not allow us to sit out this war. Not when our unique abilities grant such an advantage in combat.

"They would send us to die, for no reason other than because they can. But if we must die anyway, why should we not die fighting for our freedom?"

Murmurs of agreement and scepticism rose up around Starscream in an angry buzz of sound, but a harsh femme voice rang out above the rest. "You mean your freedom. No Seeker who deserves their wings would ever lower them for grounders."

"Slipstream," Airline whispered as Starscream, along with many others, turned to search for the speaker. "She has a reputation for tearing the wings off of Air Command Seekers who enter her territory."

Starscream's own wings shuddered. "Delightful."

"Do you not follow the rules laid down by grounders?" Contrail asked. "You live where they allow you to, avoid the cities they drive you from, and raise only the young they don't steal. How can you claim to be free when your life - like all of ours - is run by your enemies?"

"Why should Vos even care about their war?" someone else demanded, though not as aggressively as Slipstream had. "We don't belong to them. Why shouldn't we just leave them to kill each other? No grounders, no problem."

"They will stop you," Contrail replied. "I say it again: they will not let us avoid this conflict. They already hunt you down and take you from your homes for their own purposes. How much worse will it be when they come with the intention of forcing you to fight? No, they will take you and teach you to attack what they want, and then they will let you loose to kill or die."

"I would crush my own spark before submitting to their command," Slipstream snarled.

"And you would doubtless wish that was an option," Contrail said. "But grounders have been containing Seekers for a long time, and precious few ever succeed in ending their lives. They would know to keep you safely contained and helpless until they were able to break you and remake you, and when they were done you would no longer consider doing anything but what they wanted. No matter how strong you think you are, no matter how stubborn or proud, every bot has a breaking point. How long do you think you could last before they found yours?"

He paused, looking out over the now silent crowd. "How long do any of you think you could last?"

"Fear mongering," Starscream murmured. "Effective."

"Aren't you going to say something?" Airline asked.

Starscream shook his head. "Not yet. Let him convince them to go to war. They'll be more willing to listen to me if I'm not the one telling them things they don't want to hear."

"Don't think of it as taking part in a grounder war," Contrail resumed before Airline could reply. "Think of it as a chance for revenge. Don't we all want that? Haven't we all known Seekers who lost something, or everything, to the grounders? Don't they deserve to pay for our people's suffering? Why should we pass up this amazing opportunity to end their reign of terror?"

The muttering started again, but this time it was angry and fearful, and no one voice could be heard over the rest. None, that was, except Contrail's, which rose above the din.

"Megatron has promised us freedom. Megatron has promised us revenge. All he asks in return is that we join forces with the Decepticons and fight for what is rightfully ours. And I ask you, is that not a fair bargain? Is our freedom not worth laying down our lives for? Why should we refuse when all he asks of us is what we're already willing to give?"

"Why indeed?" Starscream called, and the Seekers nearest him fell silent. Those beyond them also paused, alerted by their fellows' sudden stillness, and within moments, the room was quiet again. On the stage Contrail stood rigidly, optics wide and furious as he scanned the crowd.

"I'm sure there's not a bot in this room who disagrees with you," Starscream continued, stepping towards the stage again. Unlike before bots moved to let him pass, exposing him to Contrail's searching gaze. But he noticed only peripherally, his own optics still fixed on Contrail. "After all, that's the number one topic all across Cybertron, is it not? Bots everywhere are calling for freedom, whether they support Megatron or Orion Pax - or Optimus Prime, whichever we're meant to call him now. Yet I find it curious that, for all our talk, no one seems to think it necessary to define what freedom is. What, exactly, are we being called upon to fight for?"

Contrail straightened, visibly reining in his reaction to hearing Starscream's voice. "The ability to determine our own life's path, of course. All bots currently present should be capable of understanding the concept, given it's one that needs no explanation."

There was a subtle insult in the words. Starscream ignored it, merely raising a brow. "If it requires no explanation, why are there Seekers here claiming to be free already? Why is your definition of freedom different from that of the caste system? For such a simple concept, there's a remarkable lack of consensus about its meaning."

"Lies and self-deception," Contrail said. "Bots are rarely willing to believe they're living in a cage. It often takes another to show them what they already knew, in their sparks if not their conscious thoughts."

"Fair enough." Starscream leapt lightly onto the stage, prompting an angry hiss from Contrail, and ambled to the center of the platform, hands folded behind his back. "You say your version of freedom is worth fighting for? Very well. Explain how it benefits us, and we shall decide for ourselves if we want it."

Contrail flared his wings with a snarl; a silent warning that - in his perspective, at least - Starscream was overstepping his boundaries. "This is why bots who don't understand politics should stay out of politics. You waste time trying to define details that should need no definition."

Starscream smiled, blatantly ignoring the threatening display. "Quite the contrary, I don't think we've spent enough time defining it. Bots have a right to know what they're risking their lives for, do they not?"

"If you have nothing constructive to add to the proceedings, I suggest you-"

"Allow me to put this a different way, then. How do we know our definition of freedom aligns with Megatron's?"

Contrail stilled. Starscream held his gaze a moment linger, then finally dropped it to look out over the crowd, finding confusion and shock on several faces. "Megatron promises freedom," he said softly, words carrying easily through the stillness, "but what does that mean? And more importantly, why should we trust him to deliver?"

Contrail growled, drawing his gaze back. "You would have us side with the Prime, then?"

"I did not say that. In fact, if I had to choose one or the other, I would choose Megatron. But why must we choose either?" Starscream turned away, moving back towards the edge of the stage to address the crowd. "I'm not suggesting we stay out of the war entirely, but why must we fight for someone else's ideals? Why can we not define freedom in our own terms, and fight alongside those whose desires best match ours?"

He scanned the crowd, searching out a scowling Slipstream, a blank-faced Acid Storm, and the scattered members of his flock. His gaze lingered on the back of the room, where the Seekers they had met outside stood just inside the doorway. Then he drew himself up, raising his wings proudly.

"Here is my definition of freedom. The ability to fly where and when we want to. The ability to care for our flocks and raise our creations to be strong and healthy, without interference from grounders. The ability to live where energon is plentiful and pure, and to no longer be forced to fight each other for the best fuel sources.

"Perhaps there are those among you who desire the same. Perhaps you want something completely different. But I ask again, how can we be sure of getting it if we fight for someone else and let them decide how things will be when the war ends? We are Seekers; Megatron is not. Why should we trust anyone else but a Seeker with our futures?"

"And I suppose you nominate yourself for the role," Contrail sneered, stalking around from behind Starscream. "Halogen may have referred to you as our commander, Starscream, but we all know the grounders only see you as such because of your association with the Prime. Without him, you're nothing but the guardian of a derelict space station. You have no power here on Cybertron proper."

A murmur of surprised voices distracted Starscream from replying. The crowd stirred restlessly, wide optics staring up at them - at him. It seemed he had been right that many hadn't realized who he was. He hesitated, suddenly and strangely self-conscious with his anonymity stripped away. Then his gaze dropped to Airline, who nodded encouragingly, and the moment passed. He raised his head and turned to face Contrail again, smile back in place.

"But that's the crucial detail, isn't it? The grounders only assign importance to me because of the Prime." He waved an arm at the crowd. "But there are no grounders here, are there? Only Seekers, and they seem very interested in what I have to say."

"Or perhaps they're simply amazed by your hypocrisy." Contrail smirked back at him, words dripping with scornful amusement. "I must say it's fascinating how you claim not to trust Megatron, yet Seekers under your command were seen assisting his forces at Altihex."

"'Assisting' is the key word," Starscream replied. "I needed Sentinel Prime out of the way and Megatron wanted a show of power no one could ignore. An alliance was beneficial to both of us. But while the Decepticons have the potential to be powerful allies, the final nature of that alliance is still, shall we say... Under negotiation."

"Negotiation," Contrail scoffed. "Is that what you call being passed over in favor of a more trustworthy mech?

"If you truly believe Megatron approached you because you're trustworthy," Starscream said, "then you are a fool, and exactly the kind of mech he was looking for. Do you seriously think he ever trusted me? Me, who was willing to turn on the mech I served the moment I saw an opportunity? Megatron isn't a trusting mech; I'm sure no matter how fervently I pledged my loyalty, he would be forever waiting for me to turn on him. After all, a mech who turned on one leader can only be expected to do so again."

"Then why should we trust you?" Slipstream asked coldly. "How do we know you won't just leave us all to rust if it's more convenient for you?"

"Are you going to blame me for wanting to better my situation?" Starscream asked. "I never chose to serve the Prime. I never chose to serve any grounder. That was merely the life I was sparked into, just as it was for many here. I'm sure you wouldn't condemn a Vosian for rebelling against their oppressors, so why condemn us? Loyalty is something you must give freely. If you obey someone simply because you have no choice, or because you have never known another way, can you truly call it betrayal when you don't want to be a slave anymore?"

"Yes, I imagine being the Prime's personal servant was such a trial," Contrail sneered. "Surrounded by important bots all cycle, a comfortable place to live, being valuable enough to be certain of care should anything happen to you. A harsh existence."

Starscream laughed. "This from the Council's glorified attack drone. The weapons might be words rather than physical force, but that doesn't change the fact that they turn you loose first, to wear down any bot who appears before the Council so the rest can dismiss their concerns without having to do the dirty work. Just as you did when Megatron appeared, though I must say, you really weren't in your best form. Or were you just asking the questions Megatron told you to?"

Contrail growled again, wings quivering with pent up rage. "My position may not have been the most prestigious, but I was - and still am - a member of the High Council. I hold more power than you could ever dream of having."

Starscream only smiled more widely and folded his arms, deliberately refusing to acknowledge Contrail's aggression. "Flaunting your credentials? That's a good way to get your wings torn off in a crowd like this. No one here cares how high up the grounder pecking order you are, except insofar as they hate you for it."

"Hate me?" Contrail strode toward Starscream, who studiously kept his stance casual and unconcerned. "Everything I ever did during my time in office was for the good of my people. My only desire was to lift us out of the Pit the grounders condemned us to, and if nothing came of it, that was because I was only one mech among thirteen. Fourteen if you include your old master. If any here hate me, it's because they weren't there to see me struggle to get anything past the other Councilors."

"I'm not questioning your motives, Contrail," Starscream said mildly. "Honestly, I don't care why you do what you do. All I care is that, for all the power you boast, you were about as effective as a fried processor."

His voice hardened on the last words, wings sweeping up in a threat of his own. Contrail started to speak, but Starscream cut him off with a snarl. "How long have you been on the Council now? Since well before the caste system relegated Seekers to the bottom of the food chain, so quite a long time. But the mere fact that a Seeker could never attain such a status in today's climate is proof that things have gotten worse for us, not better. And all these political struggles you claim to have with the other Councilors? How do they compare to the struggles of your framekin? Do you ever think of the Seekers who are kept from the sky, who are forced to hunt energon below the surface or fight their own kind at the grounders' bidding? The Seekers whose sparklings are taken from them so they don't interfere with their work? Who are rarely even allowed to choose their own mates? Do you ever feel guilty when you remember how much they suffer, or like a failure when you can't change anything? Or do you just pat yourself on the back for avoiding such a grim fate?"

Contrail stepped closer still, close enough to touch, and leaned down, face to face with Starscream. "I say it again: I was only one of many, and none of them, least of all the Prime, wanted to consider my proposals. You probably never noticed because you were too busy sucking up, but when Sentinel Prime doesn't want something to happen, he tends to get his way."

"Sentinel Prime tended to get his way on a lot of things," Starscream replied coldly, stressing the past tense. "Which includes running the life of his 'servant'. You say I was valuable to him, and I won't deny that I received better treatment than some, but he still owned me. A well-treated slave is still a slave."

Contrail snarled, but they were interrupted by a smooth, calm voice. "Leaving the grounders to their own devices isn't going to help us, I agree. But what would you have us do if not join the Decepticons?"

Starscream stepped back from Contrail and turned to search for the speaker, who turned out to be Acid Storm. He shot a last, hostile look at Contrail, then drew in a steadying ventilation and addressed the crowd again.

"I propose the formation of our own army; an army of Seekers, allied with but not a part of the Decepticons. As long as Megatron needs us - and he does need us, he already knows that - it will be easy enough to keep the terms of that alliance in our favor. And when the war ends in Decepticon victory because of our aid, we can take any territories we desire for ourselves."

"So much for not trusting Megatron," Slipstream scoffed. "What's stopping them from turning on us as soon as we win their war for them?"

"Things happen in war," Starscream replied with a wave of his hand. "Ambushes, betrayals, accidents. There's always a possibility that Megatron won't survive. And even if he does, our wings give us a distinct advantage over grounders. He won't risk a second war on the heels of the first by denying us our demands."

"If it was that easy, Seekers would never have been subjugated," Acid Storm pointed out.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps if we had shown the grounders what we were capable of eons ago, we wouldn't be where we are now." Starscream strode to the edge of the stage, ignoring Contrail growling behind him. "Never in history have the Seekers stood united under one leader. Even as things grew harder for us, our response was to turn on each other, to place our flocks before the good of our race even when it only hurt us to do so. Yet those flocks who form alliances are so much stronger than those who stand alone. Why should we not learn from that lesson and apply it on a larger scale? Why should we not rise up and show the grounders, all of them, that we will no longer dip our wings for them? That they can't control us anymore?"

He paused and suddenly the room was getting louder again, echoing with murmuring voices, with anger and approval. With calls of assent. And it was because of Starscream. He threw out an arm at the frozen screen behind him and raised his voice, spark pulsing faster as the crowd grew more excited. "Megatron himself questioned who can claim to know what's best for another. Now I ask you in return, who can Seekers trust to know what they need but another Seeker? Why should we put our trust in a grounder, even one who claims to have our best interests in mind, when grounders have hurt us so much and for so long? I say we forge our own futures, and prove to all of Cybertron that we will never be beaten down again!"

"And you'll have my support."

Starscream turned in surprise as a heavyset black Seeker - the leader he had met outside - approached the stage. The mech leapt onto the stage beside him, nimble despite his greater size, and turned to the crowd.

"Grounders drove my flock from our territory near Iacon vorns ago. Now we're dying. I want revenge, and I don't care who I have to tear apart to get it."

He turned back to Starscream and sank gracefully to his knees, bowing low enough to fully expose his wings. "My flock is at your service, Sky Commander."

Sky Commander. There was no higher declaration of respect from one Seeker to another, not that Starscream was aware of. He hadn't expected this, and was so thrown that for a moment he couldn't remember how one was supposed to respond to such a situation. Then he shook it off and knelt as well, resting a hand on one wing in a silent command to stay still before extending the other before the leader's face. Large hands moved to cradle his, drawing it to the mech's mouth, and he caught his vents, bracing for pain. But there was only a light sting that was quickly soothed by a rough glossa and he let the breath out, carefully stroking the wing under his fingers. A promise to protect and provide, sealed with energon. It wasn't a practice well-known outside of Vos, and looking up, he saw varying degrees of shock and approval on the faces of those nearest him. But even those who didn't know what they were seeing stayed silent, following the lead of their wild brethren.

Starscream turned back to the mech before him as his hand was released, leaving the other on the lowered wing a moment longer before standing. The other leader followed suit, and now Starscream could see approval on his face as well.

"You have my support too!" a red mech announced, pushing his way through the crowd. "Grounders have been taking fledglings from my flock for generations. Enough is enough!"

He jumped up beside the other two, and suddenly more bots were following: a light blue mech Starscream recognized as Thundercracker's sire, Acid Storm, a silver femme with a notable limp. A few joined those onstage while others gathered around the edge, all holding their heads and wings proudly. Slipstream eventually approached with arms folded, sneer still firmly in place, though her optics were more calculating than disdainful. Then a purple mech was there as well, kneeling at Starscream's feet, and Starscream blinked.

"Airline! You don't have to-"

"I know," Airline replied simply, catching Starscream's hand in his own and nuzzling his arm. Starscream glanced around, catching amused and curious gazes, and felt his plating heat.

"Ohhh... Get up here," he grumbled, pulling free. Airline released him with a rumbling laugh and did what he was told, though his hands still slipped around to stroke the lower edges of Starscream's wings. Starscream huffed, then threw caution to the wind and reached up to hook his talons over Airline's chestplate, pulling him down to his level.

"Sentimental idiot," he muttered, nuzzling into Airline's neck.

Airline only laughed again, tightening his hold to pull Starscream to his chest. "I told you Contrail didn't stand a chance."

Starscream snorted, then stretched up to frown over Airline's shoulder. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Took his flock and left," the black leader replied behind him. "No doubt running home to his master."

"So what now?" Slipstream asked, guarded but less hostile than before.

Starscream pulled back from Airline, turning to look out over the assembled Seekers. His army.

"Now," he said at length, "we prepare for war."

Next chapter will return us to the present. I can't say for sure when it will come out, as I have an army of chapters written for another story during NaNoWriMo to edit, but I'm going to aim for next month.