"Get Hornet down off the stage before he hurts himself," Valiant groaned.

Firebolt snorted. "He's singing karaoke, not blade-dancing or wrestling a Dinobot. How's he going to hurt himself?"

"If he keeps mangling the song like that, I'm going to go up there and hurt him."

"Be nice!" Firebolt snapped. "He's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" said Lancer with a roll of his optics. "That table full of Junkions got up and left before he was done with the first verse! I'd say he's pretty bad."

"It's Karaoke Night, not a talent contest," Echo noted, stirring his drink with a rust stick. "Let him have his fun."

Valiant grumbled and made a show of putting a finger to his temple. The gesture wasn't necessary to dampen one's audial sensors, but it made his opinion on Hornet's "singing" abundantly clear.

The Fleet Fox had once been a lower-end dive of a bar, the kind of place Swift's father had once visited to blow off steam with a cheap drink and a rowdy brawl. Swift had never been inside before it had been blown up in a terrorist attack years ago, and once investigations had been concluded the new owner decided the best way to remove the traumatic memories of that incident was an extensive remodel and rebranding. The old dive was now a trendy nightclub, one that attracted a diverse mix of mechanisms and some of the hottest DJs and musicians.

And of course, thanks to a rising interest in human culture among the younger generation of Cybertronians, the club hosted Karaoke Night once a quatrex. Some of Swift's friends were delighted to find their planned outing had coincided with this event, while others found themselves ordering extra drinks to better withstand it.

Swift offered some polite applause as Hornet finished wailing his way through "Living On a Prayer." The yellow carformer bowed deeply and went to take his seat, high-fiving someone at another table on the way.

"What was that, a Dinobot mating call?" asked Lancer.

"Hey, shut up," Hornet retorted. "At least I made it through the entire song without flubbing the lyrics."

"I only did that once," Lancer shot back.

"The lyrics are right in front of you, how do you manage to screw THAT up?" Hornet demanded.

"Okay, everyone, calm down," Echo urged, patting the table in a soothing motion. "Let's not get all hot and bothered over something that's supposed to be fun. Swift, why don't you grace us with a tune? You have a nice voice."

Swift ducked her head and shook it. "Oh… no, I couldn't." Singing playfully with her friends was one thing, but getting up in front of a crowd full of drunken strangers to perform was another matter entirely.

"Sure you can!" Hornet urged. "Everyone else has had a turn. Even Stardust went up and he's more stage-shy than you!"

"They," Stardust corrected.

"Huh?" Hornet turned to face the blue flier.

"I'm going by 'they/their' now," Stardust explained. "I've thought about it awhile and realized I don't really identify with a gender."

"Okay, cool," Hornet replied. "Anyhow, if Stardust can go up on stage and sing their spark out, you can too!"

"Maybe another time," Swift deferred.

"Guys, stop hassling her over it," Echo ordered. "Don't force her up there if she doesn't want to. We're supposed to be having fun, not pressuring each other."

"Can we pressure a certain someone to NOT go onstage for the rest of the night?" asked Valiant.

"Oh, like YOU sound like the fraggin' Bard of Darkmount!' Hornet retorted.

"Let's face it, none of us is the best singer on Cybertron," said Stardust. "The important thing is that we have fun, whether it's singing or listening or offering snarky critique."

"My critique is not snarky," Valiant grumbled.

Swift let her gaze sweep the bar as the others continued to bicker good-naturedly. It was a fairly busy night, with mechs crowding the bar and every table and packing the dance floor. Multicolored light flashed off of highly-polished plating, and optics blazed in a variety of shades as Autobots, Decepticons, and neutrals alike mingled and drank and danced. A trio of overcharged femmes swayed onstage, giggling and crooning their way through an old ballad, and several voices rose from the crowd to join them or shout encouragement.

Everyone was having fun in their own way, it seemed… and despite not joining in the singing or the dancing, she was enjoying herself. She didn't need to go out and make an idiot of herself on the dance floor or the karaoke stage to have fun - she was perfectly content just observing and soaking in the atmosphere.

Well, observing and absorbing the atmosphere and pondering the next chapter of her fanfic. She was having difficulties with the next chapter, and maybe a club scene could get things moving along nicely. If nothing else, it would be a good opportunity to get Calypso and Gaia to get relaxed enough to share a kiss…

"Fancy meeting you here."

She jerked, startled out of her thoughts, and turned to face the speaker. "Oh! Hi, Harmony."

The carformer smiled, her aquamarine optics gleaming with good humor. "Oh good, you do remember my name. I was starting to think I hadn't been that memorable."

"Oh, you were memorable," Swift assured her, then felt her faceplates flame with heat. "I-I mean… I couldn't forget… I mean I remember you… oh Primus…"

Harmony laughed. "I know what you meant. I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon. Guess this means I owe you that drink now."

"Um…" She glanced down at the cube in her hand. "I have a drink."

She laughed again, a light and dancing sound. "Then I'll buy you another, silly. What're you drinking?"

"Just a Thunderhead. Nothing too strong, but I like them."

"Then I'll buy you another Thunderhead." She raised a hand to summon a serving drone.

"Who's your friend, Swift?" asked Firebolt.

"Oh! Um, this is Harmony," Swift introduced. "She's a friend." Maybe "friend" was rushing it, but "that femme I just met yesterday at the art gallery" didn't exactly roll out of the vocalizer.

"Hi Harmony," Firebolt greeted with a wave. "I'm Firebolt. The grumpy Seeker's Valiant, and these are Echo, Hornet, Stardust, Ricochet, and Lancer."

"Actually, I'm currently between names," Ricochet said. "Ricochet doesn't really fit a beast form, does it? I'm trying on different names, seeing how they fit. How does 'Fury' sound?"

"Like a video game character," Hornet replied, and snorted as the dragon-former turned to glare at him. "What, it's true."

"Well, nice to meet you, Fury," Harmony chuckled. "And the rest of you too."

"C'mon, sit down," Valiant offered, reaching over to pull out a chair between himself and Swift. "A friend of Swift is a friend of ours."

"Thank you," Harmony greeted, and she settled in. She seemed so ridiculously small, flanked by a Seeker and a shuttle-former, but if she was uncomfortable she gave no sign of it. "Celebrating anything special?"

"Not really," Stardust admitted. "We just get together every once in awhile to hang out and have drinks. And since a lot of us are moving on to the universities or the military after we graduate, we want to make the most of the time we've got."

"Makes sense. Oh, here's your drink, Swift."

"Oh… thank you." She took the cube of Thunderhead from the floating drone, making a note to check what Harmony was having so she could return the favor.

"You seem pretty at ease with us," Valiant noted, leaning back in his chair with an easy smile. "Most Autobots steer clear of anything that even remotely resembles a Decepticon. Good to see some 'Bots can look past the sigil."

"None of us are wearing sigils, Val," Lancer told him, flicking the rust-stick that had garnished his drink at the Seeker's head.

"Oh, you know what I meant," Valiant replied, picking up the stick and flinging it back.

Harmony shrugged. "Honestly, I don't see any reason to be scared of you guys. You don't seem all that different from Autobots - just different optic colors and a little more aggressive body designs. I don't get what all the fuss is about."

"Neither do we, to be honest," said Echo. "The cassettes always go on about what snobs Autobots are - no offense - but all the ones I've met are polite and friendly."

"None taken," Harmony replied.

Swift stared into her drink, watching the vibrations of the club send ripples shimmering over its surface. She hadn't expected the conversation to take this turn, and she couldn't help but think about Astrotrain's comments about Autobots continuing to get preferential treatment… or the conversation she and Harmony had regarding alt modes the other day. Some days it feels like nothing's changed since the war except nobody's trying to kill each other…

"Hey, you all right?" Harmony asked, patting her arm with a slim hand.

Swift nodded. "You know, I wonder… never mind."

"Oh come on, you can't start like THAT and not tell us," Valiant retorted. "What are you wondering?"

"It's stupid," Swift insisted.

"I guarantee it's a lot more intelligent than anything else we've talked about tonight," Echo laughed. "I promise we won't laugh, okay?"

Swift braced herself, trying to prepare for some nasty backlash to her words, then spoke. "I just wonder why we keep insisting on wearing faction symbols and calling ourselves by those labels when the war's been over for vorns now. What's the purpose?"

"Well duh, we're Decepticon kids," Ricochet/Fury replied with a shrug, his wings rippling with the movement. "Of course we're gonna put on Decepticon symbols."

"Yes, but why?" Swift asked. "If there's no more war, no real reason to keep splitting ourselves up into factions… why do we keep doing it?"

"Because… we're Decepticons?" Ricochet/Fury insisted, though he sounded less sure of himself.

"Yea, what else are we gonna do?" asked Valiant. "If I'm joining the Air Corps I'm pretty much required to wear the sigil. And given that we're all Decepticon-created kids with Decepticon parents, we're all probably going to take the sigil."

"Not to mention It'd be pretty insulting to our parents to become Autobots now, after they worked so hard to get us out from under the Autobots' thumbs at the end of the war," Lancer pointed out. "Especially your parents, Swift."

Harmony cocked her head, optics glittering with interest. "I sense a story here."

"It's a long one," Firebolt replied. "We'll tell you later."

"You know, forget I said anything," Swift murmured, staring into her drink. Now that the words were out of her vocalizer and causing a stir, she wished she could snatch them back and stuff them away forever. She hadn't even considered the risks her parents had taken in rescuing her and her friends from the Autobots' "re-education" academy so long ago… nor realized that not taking a Decepticon symbol would be an insult to them.

"Aw, Swift, don't be upset!" Hornet insisted. "What you said actually makes sense."

She looked up at the yellow carformer, optics rebooting in surprise. "It… does?"

"Yeah!" He swept his arm to indicate not just the nine mechs gathered at the table, but the entire bar and the city beyond it. "I mean, look at us. Bots, Cons, and neutrals all mingling together like we never had a war in the first place! Sure, not every place is like this, but the fact that it's happening at all would have been unthinkable back in our parents' day. Nobody's paying attention to factions anymore. Why not take it a step further and just… do away with factions entirely?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, that's treason-talk," Valiant snapped.

"Since when?" demanded Hornet. "Don't tell me Shockwave or the Autobot Council suddenly rescinded the freedom-of-speech laws!"

"No, but Mom says they still keep an audial out for possible seditionist talk," Valiant replied. "And wiping out entire factions could count."

Harmony shot Swift a quick look and sent a single question mark over her comm frequency. Swift shot back a quick reply - Valiant's mother, Stormrunner, is the Decepticon Air Commander. She knows a lot of what goes on with the leadership.

"Actually, Dad says anti-factionist talk isn't considered the same as anti-Decepticon talk," Echo put in. "There's a BIG difference between saying 'you know maybe Cybertron would be better if there were no factions' and 'shoot anybody wearing a symbol you don't like.' They keep careful track of the latter, not so much the former."

Harmony gave Swift another look, and she answered the unspoken question - and Echo's father is Soundwave, Shockwave's Communications Officer.

Is there anyone at this table who's NOT the child of an officer? Harmony asked wryly.

Swift quickly snapped her mask into place to hide a giggle. Well, Stardust's fathers are civilians, and my mom used to be Air Commander but is now an artist. Firebolt's dad is part of a combiner team but not the leader of it, so I guess that counts too. The others… well, that depends on if you consider gestalt leaders officers or not.

I guess that means I should be on my good behavior tonight, huh? Harmony flashed her a wink.

"Honestly, I'm not sure at all that I want to take a sigil either," Stardust noted. "I see no point in it, especially if I'm not going into the military. Splitting Cybertronians up into classes is what got us into the war in the first place, so why keep that going?"

"There's a BIG difference between the two sides of the war and the so-called Golden Age's old caste system," Lancer pointed out.

"Well, given that the war was at least partially over that old caste system, there's not THAT big of a difference," said Echo.

"Still, the point stands," Lancer insisted. "Autobot and Decepticon aren't just names that we paste on ourselves for fun - they define who we are. Take that away, and we lose a big part of ourselves."

Firebolt raised an optic ridge. "Are you saying this because YOU believe it, or because it's something Hook preached to you?"

Lancer scowled. "So what if he told it to me? He's my dad, and he's pretty smart. I tend to trust what he says."

"Well, given that Hook started out as an Autobot but switched sides halfway through the war, I think he's a fine one to talk," Firebolt noted.

"Hey!" Lancer snapped.

"She's got a point," said Hornet. "If factions define us so much, and if your family and programming determine your function so much, why do turncoats even exist? Sure, you might have been created with the intention of being one faction or the other, but in the end it's your choice, isn't it? And who says you HAVE to choose a side?"

Valiant rolled his optics. "Seriously, guys, our parents fought for the Decepticon cause. They aren't going to take kindly to us talking about this."

"I thought you were the rebellious one," Stardust said wryly, curling their lip in a smirk.

"Honestly… I think factionism is pretty stupid too," said Harmony. "And if I thought I could get away with it, I'd never put on a symbol. I'd just like to be a Cybertronian, and not have to worry about labels."

"Well, who says we have to put on symbols?" Firebolt asked. "My dad says if he had it his way he'd just rip his sigil off and be done with it. It's bad for business to have a preference for one side or the other."

"That's a very Swindle thing to say," Hornet chuckled. "Probably the only reason he hasn't done that already is because Onslaught would kill him if he did."

"No he wouldn't," Firebolt retorted. "But anyhow, just because our parents felt like they had to divide themselves into factions doesn't mean we have to, right?"

The others murmured assent… save Valiant, who folded his arms over his chest and scowled at Firebolt, and Lancer, who stared into his cube with a troubled expression. Swift, for her part, just beamed quietly. She'd anticipated a lot of backlash for her comment, and was both surprised and grateful that it seemed a majority of her friends understood and supported her position.

"So… what's stopping us from doing this?" asked Echo. "From just up and deciding we're not going to call ourselves Decepticons? Or Autobots, for that matter?"

"I dunno, but Motormaster's already venting down my neck struts about it," Ricochet/Fury said. "He says I've put it off long enough. Not really looking forward to telling him I'm going sigil-less."

"I don't think a lot of our parents are going to be thrilled about it," Swift admitted. "Especially after all they went through to keep us from being made Autobots against our will." She had a feeling Glory would be disappointed but ultimately supportive… though her father would probably blow a gasket. Note to self, tell Mom first and let her break the news…

"Then what do you suggest we do?" asked Harmony. "We can't just bow to what our parents want, and carry this forward another generation. But at the same time most of us don't want to alienate our families entirely."

Swift ducked her head, as if she could somehow condense her frame down into a smaller shape. She hadn't thought ahead this far, nor had she expected to be put on the spot like this. Especially by the femme she'd been befriending and thinking fondly of...

"Then what we need," she ventured at last, "is a group of some kind. Not a faction of our own, but more of an organization. One that can support mechs who want to remain factionless but don't have the support system to do it on their own. And one that can call for awareness - that not every mech wants to call themselves Autobot or Decepticon, and would rather just be called Cybertronians."

Harmony nodded slowly. "That's a noble goal… but who's going to form such a group?"

"Why not us?" suggested Firebolt.

"Why us?" asked Lancer, frowning. "Why does it have to be us?"

"Because if we just sit around waiting for someone ELSE to do it, nobody's going to do it!" Firebolt declared. "We can't be the only ones who want to be defined by something other than what faction our parents were. What if there are others who are just looking for solidarity of some kind? For others like them? This is bigger than just us - this is our whole generation!"

"Not just our generation," Echo reminded her. "It's mechs like your dad, who would be perfectly happy to drop his sigil if he didn't think it would get him in trouble with his team. Or others who want to be done with this nonsense of splitting our kind up by faction, but haven't been taken seriously by anyone. Or even those who already call themselves neutral but are seen as the weird outliers by the rest of our screwed-up society."

Swift nodded slowly. She hadn't realized that older mechs might be fed up with having to be labeled as Autobot or Decepticon either. But if they could just find these older mechs and show them that there were others who felt the same way… perhaps they could help them. And perhaps the support of said older mechs could make their cause look legitimate, and not like some kind of passing fad.

"Well, you can count me out of THIS little social justice movement," Valiant declared, pushing himself away from the table.

"You say 'social justice movement' like it's a bad thing," said Harmony. "What's so wrong with wanting to shed the labels that have divided our kind for so long?"

"I, for one, am proud of my Decepticon heritage," Valiant retorted. "And I refuse to dishonor my parents - the ones that created me AND my adopted ones - by declaring myself factionless. And I'm not endangering my place in the Air Corps just to go along with this half-baked idea." He let his gaze sweep the table. "The rest of you can go along with this, but I won't." And he stalked off.

"What crawled up HIS thrusters and died?" grumbled Hornet.

"Let him go," Swift told him. "We shouldn't force anyone into joining us. If anyone here has a problem with what we're discussing, they're free to leave."

Lancer hesitated, then stood. "Then I need to leave. I'm sorry, guys… but this whole thing isn't worth upsetting my father over." And he went to follow Valiant out of the club.

"Anyone else?" asked Swift, looking around the table. When no one else made a move to leave, she nodded. "Let's talk to our classmates, see if anyone else feels the same way we do. Once we get a feel for how many mechs are unhappy with being forced into a faction and want a change, we can make further plans."

"Good idea," Firebolt replied. "And older mechs too. I'm sure my dad will support us, even if he can't openly join us."

"My parents will too," Stardust added. "I have an older sister who's long been against the whole idea of letting factions divide us. I'm sure she'll have some ideas for us."

"Harmony," Swift went on, turning to the carformer, "will you be willing to talk to some of your Autobot friends? See if there are any like-minded mechs among them?"

Harmony nodded. "Definitely. I'll send you a list of names and contact information."

"We're really doing this, then?" asked Ricochet/Fury. "Organizing an anti-faction movement."

"More of a 'pro-factionless' movement," Stardust corrected. "Calling it anti-anything will just turn mechs against us."

"Yeah, but we're still doing it?" Ricochet/Fury insisted. "This is kinda big. And I get the feeling it's gonna upset a lot of mechs."

"Then let 'em be upset," Firebolt replied. "Dad likes to say that if you don't upset at least a few people in your life, you're not making an impact."

Swift felt a shiver in her fuel tank that had nothing to do with the Thunderhead she'd just downed. Richochet/Fury/whatever he was going by this decacycle had a point - what they were doing wasn't just a lark, but a movement. One that could potentially shake Cybertron… and upset not just their parents, but entire establishments. Cybertronians had been dividing themselves according to faction for millennia, basing prejudices and government systems and wars on a system that kept the planet split in two even to this very day. And they weren't going to look kindly on these young, naive mechs who thought they could buck their creators' system and take a third option for themselves.

Well… Firebolt's right, I guess. We're not going to make an impact without upsetting people. She just hoped it wouldn't upset the most important people in her life… at least not too much.

"I'm home."

No answer. Swift frowned behind her mask and stepped further into the apartment. She was used to at least some kind of response, no matter how late she got home. At least one of her parents usually waited up for her, making sure she arrived safely before retiring for the night. Valiant had claimed her parents were just worrywarts and that he would go nuts if Stormrunner and Wavebreaker hovered that much over him, but Swift found it oddly comforting.

"I'm home!" she called out, walking through the entryway and into the living room. Maybe she hadn't called out loudly enough. "Mom? Dad? Wildfire?"

The horse-former had been curled up on the couch, but at the sound of his name he raised his elegant head to regard her. His tail thumped a few times against the couch cushions, like a turbohound eagerly greeting its master, then he snorted and laid his head back down.

"Hey boy," Swift greeted, reaching down to scratch behind his audial receptors. "Where's Mom and Dad?"

Wildfire let out a low groan of pleasure at the attention. "Glory in bedroom. Blitzwing too. Busy."

"Oh." Swift's faceplates heated up at that. "I won't bother them, then. Good night, Wildfire. Thanks for waiting up for me."

Wildfire nuzzled her hand. "Swift safe. Good. Will always keep safe."

She smiled. "I know… you're a good boy. Thank you." She patted him one more time and headed for her own room.

Her parents' door stood ajar, and she knew she should just pass on by - whatever was going on in there wasn't her business. But a snippet of conversation drifting out of the open door made her pause.

"...so many fraggin' choices for a sparkling shell. All that fuss when they're just getting upgraded in a few vorns."

"This from the mech who was up all night last night trying to pick the perfect colors for the newbuilt's chasiss. Admit it, Blitz, you're enjoying this."

"Hey, this is gonna be our kid. I can fuss a little. What about that one? With the horns?"

"Mmm… too Cyclonus-ish. I prefer the fins that look like little wings."

"Look more like fish fins to me. Or that Swamp Thing monster."

"Okay, now that you said that, I can't unsee it. That one's out…"

Swift clenched her jaw and hurried past, making for her own room. The little sanctuary she'd carved out for herself - her books and datapads carefully organized on their shelf, the posters from the video games she enjoyed with her father and Astrotrain papering the walls, the stuffed animals that were her guilty pleasure littering the bed - didn't soothe her as much as she hoped it would. As happy as she was that her parents had been approved for a Sigma Key and would be having another child soon, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being pushed aside in favor of the new sibling. And that hurt.

She shook her head and sat down at her desk, picking up her stylus. Maybe churning out a few paragraphs of fanfic would help her unwind a bit. Sometimes taking out your frustrations on your characters could be therapeutic, even if those pages never saw the light of day.