There was little that Starscream did not dare dream of, as he polished away the paint transfers from his... greeting with Megatron. He had conquered destruction itself, surviving the loss of his physical form for a half vorn. His ambitions would know fruition this time, his sights set on a revitalized Cybertron capable of being the base for an eager war machine the galaxy would tremble before.

That much of Megatron's slower, long-range planning, he could agree with. Let the Autobots grow complacent with peace, and begin to chafe for the very war that had shaped all of them. It would come again, rightly turned outward, until Cybertron had mastered those races and resources that rightly belonged to them!

First thing, now that Megatron had ceased to mar his finish, was to tackle taking back his rightful place. At least, for once, his trine mates had been useful, holding the power in their hands while he was distracted. He inspected his frame intently, seeing the high shine and vibrant colors in it with pride, before he strode through the too empty hallways to the formal flight ground.

::SEEKERS, REPORT!::

That full-bodied send, flavored by his intonations, branded by his personal signature, burned across the common band of all the fixed wing fighters within his Class. It was high time they stopped doing grunt work for Hook's minions, and started performing their primary task of finding the resources needed.

Scion, still recovering from the crippling method of how they had managed both tasks, scowled in his sealed quarters, and promptly tuned Starscream out. Along the rest of the band, however, other voices sprang up questioning, doubting, curious... until one voice silenced them all.

::WHO DARES?::

The fury in Thundercracker's send was strong enough to make Starscream take a step back for balance, the frequency pushing his equilibrium off in its resonance.

::Come see for yourself, my doubting wingmate!:: Starscream snapped back over the frequencies. He could already feel the vibrations in the air as Seekers from all over the city abandoned their tasks to come and find out the truth for themselves. Making the showdown with Thundercracker so public would serve him well.

Longarm, watching the needed fast transports vanish from work sites, lodged a complaint with Hook. He filed it away as one more reason the fliers were out-dated as a class. In his vision of Cybertron, their class would be relegated to ferry duty and little else. Hook, in turn, complained to Soundwave, who was also suffering from the antics with a crushing processor ache of so much chatter on frequencies that were, at best, chaos incarnate to his monitoring.

The complaints, rather than stopping with Soundwave, were passed further up. Normally, it would be Blaster's fate to detail the reports to their leader, if Megatron was in residence. However, that illogical creation had absconded in the Autobot space ship.

Soundwave sent Ravage with the report, known causes, and a request from the work force commanders that the Seekers be ordered back to their work.

Megatron, instead, took the report with a laugh that rang through the halls, and invited Ravage to join him on the palace parapet that allowed a good view of the growing Seeker congregation, trines and duos falling into their customary flights all around the field, while Starscream, resplendently shining even at this distance, stood in the center of the field, awaiting Thundercracker.

"Finally. Something entertaining," Megatron rumbled, hand coming to rest on the hunter's head as they watched.

Ravage purred agreement.

Astrotrain was not, technically, a Seeker. He, and others of his abilities, were more closely related to the larger transport class that had long since vanished into the depths of space rather than cope with the war. He did not, however, like not knowing what was going on with the only fliers he considered decent company. Rotors He shuddered just tended to be plain strange, and none really knew if Octane or Blitzwing had actually made it through the war with the bounty on their helms that had sent them into deep hiding.

He landed off to one side, perched atop a convenient roof, and zoomed his optics in for the spectacle taking place on the field. He could not help the frown on his face as he recognized those paint markings. So the voice was part of a larger trick, it seemed, as this impostor settled to the task of proving himself. Astrotrain had to admit that he was going to enjoy watching Thundercracker win a fight for once.

Thundercracker came in with his speed bleeding fast into the sonic waves that had earned him his name, bombarding the mech on the field. He followed in behind the waves, crashing into the mech who had withstood the barrage. The watching Seekers kept their optics on the battle, entranced by what was purely their own brand of savagery.

No blades, no whips, no lasers came into play. This was the brute force of one highly volatile flier against one who was cunning and swift, passion running high. Fields sparked off one another, talons sliced into lines and pulled, spattering fluids all over both, and armor plates were mangled into hanging shreds of metal. Still, neither fighter seemed to be getting the upper hand in the fight.

There wasn't a mech looking on who did not doubt the impasse would soon be broken; Thundercracker had resisted a number of assassination attempts and outright challenges for dominance. Sometimes, it came down to the key factor of his wingmate. Surely the wingmate would pop in and end this any moment now, the unpredictable teleportation always a factor that worked in Thundercracker's favor.

What happened next left chaos and confusion in its wake, because it should have been impossible. The sound of mass suddenly occupying space that it had not moments before had not even fully materialized in audials before it was joined by the eerie noise of Starscream's signature blaster weaponry, his arm jerked back at an awkward angle that had accurately targeted where Skywarp appeared! The teleporter fell back in a stagger, sparks and static dancing through his systems as the low-powered blast went through his unshielded frame. Very few knew it took his defenses offline as he popped from point to point. Fewer still could make the calculations and aim in the microseconds that his defenses were down. No one, save his trine, should ever have been able to tell precisely where he would emerge from a teleport!

The rip of sensor and system damage to his mate tore through Thundercracker's awareness in ways that his own never could, and his processor locked around what had just happened in shock. It took all his ability to push the aggressive mech away from him, but he did, getting enough space to really look at the mech who had stirred up his emotional minefield.

"Well-played, my traitor," Megatron rumbled, analyzing that strike. In one move, Starscream had proven his domination of the Air Commander, and proven his identity. It felt good to know his second had returned with all his craft and cunning in place.

It would make the future all that more rewarding to pit himself against such skill.

"Starscream," Thundercracker wheezed out, struts stiffening, wings flared high and proud, even as he knew he was defeated.

"Oh yes," the named mech purred, full of pride in himself. His optics moved from Thundercracker to the assembled Seekers. "There's been a change in the command of our class," Starscream purred. "Hasn't there, Thundercracker?"

"Yes Air Commander."

A few Seekers twitched nervously, but not a one of them wanted to test themselves against this newcomer with too many vorns of experience. Not today. Not without knowing what tricks lurked in that shiny new frame, and not without letting Starscream prove his flaws were all still in place.

"Beginning now, Seekers, you are all off duty for one full cycle. Meet again at this field tomorrow, to learn your new tasks." Starscream was being magnanimous, now that he had just what he wanted. And neither Hook nor Soundwave were going to continue to utilize his Seekers in manners unfitting to Starscream's plans. He turned his back to leave, and as was only proper, Thundercracker fell in on on side, with Skywarp jerkily managing to do the same on his other.

They had repairs to tend, and old bonds to reforge before the new cycle began.

Thundercracker and Skywarp had spent as little time as possible in the palace as they could get away with. They had a suite, three rooms surrounding a fourth, as the construction had not taken into account that Thundercracker was unlikely to accept a new trine-mate.

Starscream had already found the quarters and swept in as if they had been designed for him, ahead of his wingmates. His sensors had already scanned them earlier, but he did so again, deactivating the new spy devices he found with dismissive bursts of his weapons, or just smashing them as he found them.

The other two took it all in warily. They knew they had to be here, but they had no idea what to expect from their utterly unpredictable wingmate. Starscream had always been a law to himself, and only shallowly bound to them.

Satisfied that he had as much privacy as he could manage, Starscream came back to where the pair waited in the central room, inspecting the damage he had done to them. Skywarp was in the best shape, even considering the occasional spark and pop as his circuitry protested the blast he had taken. With a nod, Starscream settled on the center stool that gave access to his wings and front equally.

"Sit, Thundercracker," he said, his voice both inviting and a command. "Skywarp can see to our repairs while we talk."

Suspicion was etched in every line, but Thundercracker did obey; he had been defeated, and he knew this mech's temper. Skywarp sullenly acquired the repair kit, coming back and pointedly going to assist his spark-mate first. Starscream, surprisingly, allowed that breach of discipline, making Thundercracker even more tense.

"Talk about?" he questioned slowly, watching as Starscream adjusted or removed plating as he waited his turn for the repairs.

"Fill me in on the survivors of the war. I've observed some, but my attention has been pointedly focused to be certain my return went smoothly," Starscream said, a wicked smile at the corner of his mouth. "Skywarp, don't bother so much with the circuits. There are upgrades in this frame that both of you will need to scan and adapt into yourselves. I will admit that Scion had some good ideas, and Ratchet executed them well."

"Yes, Starscream," Skywarp told him, settling some both for being allowed to help Thundercracker first and for the fact Starscream was calm. Yes, there was this buzz of energy around him, as always, but the feeling of patient calculation was reassuring. The fight had been the end of the conflict between them (for the moment), the battle necessary by both class expectations and the mentality that had seeped into the entire army over the course of the war. Only strength was respected. He turned his attention to making certain all the torn lines were sealing properly, and then he would work on plating.

"Astrotrain is still the biggest threat," Thundercracker began, focusing on this trine-leader's faceplates, curious and knowing there were new plans afoot, plans that would no doubt lead them into trouble. "Megatron admitted to beating him down on that planet before bringing him back to the Nemesis. What he did not say, but I believe from Soundwave's condition, is that Astrotrain was allied with that slagger."

"Mmm. He can be handled." Starscream would just have to get word out to a pair of refugees, certain they were still in existence. With two of his own kind around, Astrotrain would be slightly more distracted, and neither one of the pair in question were trusted very well. It would blunt the ability Astrotrain had to court a power base.

"Among the Seekers themselves, there's mostly discontent over the broods. I know, flat out, how much coding came from you and those of us you selected," Thundercracker said, temper rising slightly. "Except for Scion, none of the broods created so far have developed Seeker frames. I've kept an eye on one from the junior brood who has Seeker tendencies, but no wings, thinking that he might develop into one of our own support class."

"Both broods are largely constructor class, with a group in each one showing a tendency toward gestalt?" Starscream questioned, to confirm what he had picked up. He had scowled at Scion's name, a factor both his wingmates would filter away, for potential use.

"Yes." Thundercracker flicked his wings irritably, earning a growl from Skywarp to be still. "We bore the brunt of the war. We've already lost the entire true Transport class. The Rotor class, as screwy as they are, have been reduced even worse than our own class. While it's amazing both broods had a full mech translation rate, no drones from either one, we've been trying to prove Hook tampered with them to block the Seeker development. Megatron waves us off, saying the developments are in support of rebuilding, and that our class complains enough about doing brute work. We should be grateful that the worker/warrior class is the one repopulating quickest." His tone was angry and full of frustration.

Starscream considered that, then opened himself to the links between himself and the pair he claimed for his own. The seething, roiled anger came through fully, and he felt a deep satisfaction in his soul. "And the aeries, where are they?" As he had predicted, his question brought savage fury from both, confirming what he had suspected.

"We have none! Skywarp and I carved something out so we did not have to remain here, but the Flights are all in that position. No construction for us, just the city and the temple and whatever Hook decides next!" Thundercracker snarled. "We're tired of living in barracks, shut in and closed off from the skies!"

"Then we shall stop." Starscream smiled at his wingmates. "As Air Commander, I choose our path. And Megatron will not balk me. It was so kind of Hook to teach us construction techniques, so that we may build our own enclave," he crooned.

Thundercracker cocked his head quizzically, then saw the glint in Starscream's optics that meant Thundercracker didn't want to know any more. He had never, ever understood the connection between the Protector and Starscream, but had accepted it as stretching back nearly to their creations. If it was back to a functional thing, instead of making Starscream a prickly mass of neurotic circuits, maybe it could be useful. Given the encounters Thundercracker had provoked in his tempers, he really didn't want any details of how Starscream kept the Protector so interested.

"And what about the broods? Hook controls access to the coding replicators, which means the planned for third brood will be contaminated by him too," Thundercracker said instead.

Starscream's optics blazed. "Trust me."

Those two words had been harbingers of both reward and doom in the past, but neither of the pair had much choice in the matter once Starscream put his will to a plan.

Repairs took more time than the briefing did, but Starscream was not showing his usual impatience. Instead, he was running over the data, placing it into slots to support his long range goals. The creation of new Seekers, or even support class for them, was a priority, once Thundercracker informed him which Flights still existed. He had plans in place for that. The need to build their own space with the access to the sky they craved was also easily handled. During it all, he would have to scout out just what Soundwave's intentions were, plan against them, and also what Hook intended, through that scrap-bit designated Longarm.

Planning on how to undercut his two equals in rank was always a worthwhile pursuit. Once he had those situations under his control, he could devote more time to fathoming Megatron's long range goals, and usurp them as he chose.

However, as Skywarp welded the last plate in place, Starscream had more immediate goals. He needed this pair, after so long an absence. Beating them had proven who he was, and re-secured a place for him in their lives. He wished to solidify that, and ran a digit along one of Skywarp's sensors, making the teleporter shudder in reaction.

"Do you still need repairs, Skywarp?" he asked, his tone as silken as he could make it.

"My self repair has caught most of it," Skywarp said, flaring his fields at his trine leader. "You could have deactivated me."

"But I did not." Starscream rose from the stool, moving around the dark mech. "You are my trine, both of you, and we have no need to remain apart now." As he said it, he stepped close to the broad wings, flaring his fields in a rhythmic pattern to caress and provoke. Skywarp, predictably, whined with hunger, and Starscream looked over a wing crest to Thundercracker. "Is there?"

Thundercracker knew, deep down, that he could never, truly, give Starscream all his trust. To do so was to invite deactivation. But for now, watching as his spark-mate was being seduced so adeptly, he could choose to trust the current situation.

"Not a one," Thundercracker agreed, rising from his stool. When Starscream pulled Skywarp toward the larger room set aside for the trine leader, Thundercracker followed.

They were a trine again, and that meant more in this moment than it had for most of the war.

Scion prowled the corridors of the palace with something akin to irritation slowly settling into every line of his magnificent new wings. He had fully integrated the upgrades, and felt confidence in them, but Ratchet had given some of those to Starscream as well. That meant the development of Starscream usurping command of the Flights was not just a small speed bump in his own future plans.

Well, there would be one more upgrade to do, and this time, Scion planned to design it completely on his own. He would correspond with the Autobot medic, strictly because Hook was not to be trusted at this point, but the eventual upgrade would be completely his own doing.

He did not want to admit that he was at loose ends. Starscream's arrival in his life as more than a ghostly presence had curtailed some of his access to Megatron. Just thinking about what his leader would want with a known traitor and seeming sycophant left Scion's tanks roiled. In addition to this, Scion had never - even down to his binary memories - trusted or liked Longarm. The majority of the newer Decepticons were followers of Longarm's plots. Blaster had been tolerable, but Blaster was gone. And while he was still fond of the Combaticons, he also knew that they were inherently dangerous in the long run, due to their loyalty being coerced by Megatron's clever programming.

He was alone, and that made him sharply conscious of the duos, trines, quads, and other configurations among the other fliers.

Why was he the last Seeker created, and when would the situation change? He could not rise to his supreme destiny if he did not have his own supporters, after all.

"This is an intolerable situation!"

Soundwave sympathized with the fierce mech who refused to sit down. However, he did not approve of the amount of anger so violently on display. Hook thought he had done well to provide the new generations a leader who was strong-willed and dedicated to a future they had agreed on. However, Soundwave would need to start grooming Longarm a little more closely to bring out the dispassionate logic lurking beneath the surface.

Perhaps a minor crisis could be arranged, to test Longarm thoroughly? It was worth contemplating.

"Fliers are unnecessary at this stage. Continue the plans as drawn," Soundwave told the immature coordinator. His gaze fell on Hook. "Utilize more of the Autobot forces."

"Lord Megatron is adamant that they be treated with care," Hook said, his fields flaring in disgust.

"My efforts to make them more biddable to our goals will guide them to volunteer more," Soundwave promised Hook. "Until then, I have one who will keep an optic and audial on the fliers." It was going to be a useful test of Buzzsaw's capability to fill in for Laserbeak, after all.

"What about Starscream himself?" Hook asked in a voice that bordered on outright dangerous while masquerading as curiosity.

Soundwave's optics glinted cruelly. "Let him distract Megatron, as he always did. In the end, it will be their destruction."

Megatron sliced the security easily; his second's brilliance did have patterns after all, and he strode into the Air Commander's suite with utter disregard for what might be happening. In actuality, he was fully aware, the pulsing thrum of Starscream's preening satiation all too familiar to the warrior. He moved directly to the doorway that separated him from the pile of sensuously entwined Seekers, pausing there to appreciate the view. However, he had more important things to attend, and Starscream was already aware enough of him to begin shoving his mates off of his wings and limbs.

"Lord Megatron," Starscream said with a long, drawn out tone that said he was in no hurry, even as Thundercracker stiffly rose and Skywarp sulkily whined for the intrusion.

"We have an agenda to discuss, Air Commander," Megatron informed his second, optics raking over the other pair of Seekers before he went out Starscream falling in behind him swiftly enough. Megatron kept his silence all the way to the outer courtyards, and then he leapt skyward, transforming to lead the way into a flight that Starscream struggled to keep up with.

Megatron had upgraded his own systems to keep ahead of his treacherous second, studying the designs in Scion's new frame to adapt what he wanted to himself. He enjoyed pushing Starscream to keep up, forcing the Seeker's smaller engines to work harder, sensors raking the performance to see if Starscream was truly worth his time.

He liked what came back to him on those scans.

::You mentioned planning, oh Lord,:: Starscream sent once he had acquired enough data on his new engines to be certain that Autobot medic hadn't fouled something in the building.

::Look around you for once, and see what needs work!:: Megatron snapped at him, their flight having carried them far from the rebuilt portion of their planet.

Molten slag, twisted metal, deep ravines all of these sights sped by beneath their flight. Starscream struggled to put the sights into logic boxes, problems to be sorted and categorized, then dealt with, but the sheer wrench of it made his engines sputter once. He forced more power to them, hating the show of emotional weakness and then Megatron spoke to him once more.

::You care for Cybertron. Put your brilliance to work in finding a solution faster than that petty, preening Constructor!::

With that, Megatron banked their flight, leading it into a sharp turn to return to his city a sobered Starscream flying off his wing and barely behind, just as it should be.

"The production ability has been severely curtailed," Hook announced as he looked anywhere but the gleaming Seeker to the left of Megatron.

"Unacceptable," Megatron said, well-aware of how sharply it irritated Hook and enjoying the way Soundwave was recalculating the odds on whatever scheme he had in mind. His shields and firewalls had never been tighter, knowing that Soundwave was steadily growing closer to open rebellion. Soon, Megatron would have the culling he needed in his own ranks, to bring forth a truer race.

"Without flight assistance " Hook began, only to be cut off abruptly by the piercing croon of consideration by Starscream.

"It seems to me, if we are to have a functional society beyond this meager city that's been carved out, my Flights must begin mapping and finding the resources that have been shifted and pushed to the surface from deep within the core, yes?" Ruby optics glinted with the jab at both Hook, for the scope of rebuilding thus far, and Megatron, for whom the city was named.

Megatron ignored the barb, but Hook did not manage it. His arrogance where his designs and abilities were concerned was easily as fierce as the Seeker's. The Constructicon, most experienced surviving member of that particular class with its hive-like tendencies, pulled himself to full height and powered up his not inconsiderable weaponry.

Starscream cocked his head to one side, his shields already on full, and smiled with brazen confidence.

"You dare insult my work?"

"I dare anything I care to."

The pair matched optics, Starscream's weapons still in stand-by, cocky to the extreme in his belief that Hook could not actually damage him even at this short range. His complete assurance in how he held himself, and so much history crowded into the Constructicon's processor, making him uneasy. This room was shielded against intrusion, but could that truly keep out a trans-warp? If he fired, would it be to receive a blade through his spinal struts and out through the spark? Would Megatron, after all his efforts to reclaim as many members of their species, allow such violence without meeting it on his own terms? What secrets were hiding inside that frame that baffled all Hook's discreet scans, protecting the insufferable Seeker?

"Then you will come to a speedier end this time, Starscream, because this world is no place for callous idiocy," Hook contented himself to say, backing down. He hated to do so, but the odds were too unpredictable. His weapons went back to stand-by, and he chalked today as one more insult to remedy down the line.

"I suggest a compromise," Soundwave began, his tone flat and dispassionate. "Starscream should allocate a portion of the Flights for both tasks."

"No." Starscream casually canted back in his seat, leg draping over the arm console. "There have been two broods of perfectly serviceable mechs created, both of whom are well-enough along to be an effective work force, since they are, with only one exception, merely ground-mechs. Use them for more than just war games and courier services, Hook, under that lumbering thing you call Longarm." There was an undercurrent in his words of the 'one exception' that Soundwave read as displeasure for the young Seeker Megatron employed as a personal guard and companion.

Hook bridled again, but did not make the mistake of taking the insult to measures of umbrage. In time, Starscream would pay. Longarm was going to be Hook's shining exemplar of Hook's abilities.

"Do it. Starscream, I expect results," Megatron added with a glare at his capricious lieutenant. The wingtips merely twitched in amusement, as Starscream smiled slyly. "Soundwave, I expect the drones ready for launch within the orn. You have each touched a topic we need to address. Our population remains critically low, with those survivors of the cataclysm little more than mindless drones themselves in some cases. I want all Decepticon forces to return to Cybertron; I am certain you will handle any cases of insurrection they bring."

"Of course, Megatron." Soundwave kept his tone and expression bland, his fields neutral.

Megatron knew this was all going to break open wide, and end the most current threat one way or the other. He had a task for Scion, as he accepted the coming violence as necessary to the future he envisioned.

"If we're all done with all this pointless talk?" Starscream inquired in his most biting tone, shifting to rise.

"Starscream, you exist. We'll never be at an end of pointless talk," Megatron informed his lieutenant, making the Seeker sputter as the meeting dissolved.

"Results; I'll give you results you cannot doubt, and then claw this planet out from under your rusted frame," Starscream muttered once he was in his chambers. "SKYWARP!"

"I'm right here, blast your sonics!" the darker jetformer snapped as he came out of his own chamber.

"I have a task for you, so get your ration and start processing it. You'll be going to Alpha."

"I hate moon trips," Skywarp grumbled but he got his ration from the dispenser, then overrode the coding to steal part of Thundercracker's too. He'd need it, so he could trans-warp instead of fly it straight. Starscream stalked him like prey to the bench he perched on, catching the other Seeker's chin in long talons.

"This one will serve us very well, Skywarp." Starscream smiled with that edge of his processor spinning over a plan, and Skywarp paid strict attention when his commander spooled a set of coordinates to him with very specific instructions on how to retrieve what had been hidden there. Thundercracker had said they'd be loyal, for now, to Starscream, and Skywarp had to admit it was at least looking more entertaining already.

Megatron looked up as his door slid open, pleased Scion had responded so promptly. Truthfully, as engaging as it was to have Starscream at his beck and call with the promise of eventual conflict to spice it up, there was something about Scion's obedience and loyalty that made Megatron consider it a good investment. He beckoned the young mech closer, turning his attention back to the screens with the city map on display, with various sectors highlighted on each screen.

"I have a task for you, Scion." He did not even have to look to know Scion had straightened with pride to be chosen. How far would Megatron be able to command this one before he dug in and bit back? That would be an eventual entertainment, Megatron was certain.

"Yes, Lord Megatron?"

"Circulate in these areas discretely." Three sectors were highlighted for Scion to view.

"Those are the Autobot areas," scion said with a hint of distaste. He had not forgiven Blaster for leaving with the Autobot medic, relegating him to strictly the company of the Combaticons when Megatron had no need for his services.

"Yes." Megatron turned to look at his young honor guard. "You will get to know them, and learn their thoughts. You will serve me, Scion, as an unofficial ambassador to them, so that any developments within the Palace need not bring them to trouble. After all, we are not yet to a point where we can dispense with my brother's good will and energy sharing, are we?" His tone was amused, but his optics glinted. Optimus would be a part of his final plan, he swore again in his spark.

Scion's wings flexed in irritation, but he nodded once, curtly. "I will what is that term you used from the organic world? Herd the flock as needed."

Megatron laughed at the terminology, delivered with flat tones and no enriching glyphs. He reached out, one hand purposefully caressing the edge of a wing, just to see how it made Scion's fields spark and flare.

One more upgrade, and Megatron would learn if the spark behind it could withstand the desire's culmination .

"Good. You may go."

Scion gave a short bow of his head and left to begin his task. Megatron let the door seal and coded it to privacy, before examining the maps again. Such submission to his will was good, in small doses.

Starscream walked through the forest of support girders being erected over the high plateau that had been chosen by the combined vote of the Flights. Granted, said voting had been accomplished with many fights, and strong-arming of weaker duos or trines to support stronger ones' chosen locations. The fact the plateau had been Starscream's first choice had nothing to do with it coming out on top at all. He had left much of the designing to others, and was rather intrigued that Thundercracker was showing a real talent for that aspect of life. Of them all, he was actually the one built and intended for true military service, not just the necessary length of time Seekers had been expected to serve before pursuing their own lives.

The Air Commander had bitter memories of how that had been twisted into eternal servitude, with 'rest of their lives' postponed indefinitely by crisis after crisis that only a flying death squad could contend with. How much it had cost Starscream, with Sentinel Prime's harsh use of their abilities, never letting them free to be whomever or whatever they had been sparked for. There would never be a cycle that Starscream escaped the memory of his need for revenge blossoming in the pointless death of one who had never, ever been made for war.

Now, shaped as much by the assassination he had used to plunge Cybertron into change as by the millennia of war, Starscream hardly remembered who that younger version of himself had wished to be. In seeking freedom for his kind, he had reforged himself into the very thing he had detested then, a warrior who could not lay down his blades. Walking among the skeleton of what would be the new Seeker haven, he could think of a future where Seekers did chose their own flight patterns, yet he could not resist the lure to ascend, to have more power for himself, so that he would never be at another's command.

His audials picked out the sound of an incoming engine before Acid Storm called the designation of the incoming jet on the common band as a form of all-clear. His whole class operated as a military unit, but that would change in time. Skywarp's return would be the beginning of it.

::Join me below, at the laboratories.:: Starscream's command to Skywarp was privately sent, as the Air Commander hurtled up and transformed, streaking out of the girders and down around the front side of the high scarp where certain facilities had been blasted and carved out of the sheer facing.

::'Scream don't ever send me to disable your booby traps again.:: There was honest pain in Skywarp's send, as well as grudging admiration for his trine-lead's ability at such things.

Starscream did not dignify that with a response; it had been a vorn of vorns since he hid that failsafe on Alpha. So what if he had forgotten all the details of how to disable the remotes? Skywarp was a teleporter and best suited to dodging, after all.

The pair met at the lab's entrance, and walked in with Starscream in the lead. Once they reached his private section, and had keyed the code, Skywarp sagged against the closest berth inside. His optics took in the five waiting frames and grimaced.

"Only four were still viable. The fifth had lost power long enough before that the shield case had cracked."

"Four is a beginning." Starscream came to his trine-mate and started opening the missile bays. "Four of our own, true Allspark creations "

"Yeah, and what if they don't fuse right to our kind of frames? They're Autobot sparks."

Starscream's optics gleamed. "They will thrive. You'll see." Never, in all his vorns of experience, had Starscream been so thankful for a chance encounter with the Autobot Cosmos shortly before the loss of the Allspark. The explorer had bought his continued existence dearly, and Starscream had tucked the bounty away for use at some later date, never expecting it to come so many vorns later.

If Skywarp had left Alpha's surface only a few orns later than he had, there would have been something more to see than the research stations and debris from the cataclysm that had been the outcome of using the space-bridge to suck Cybertron to that organic-infested solar system. Astrotrain was there to greet the first of those who had answered Soundwave's summons, on the far side of the moon where independent scans would fail to see them. Any incidental glimpses of their arrivals would be erased by the mech who controlled Cybertron's communications.

As the scattered remnants of the once mighty Decepticon army came home, Astrotrain used the words Soundwave had given him to paint the picture of their home perfectly for the hard-bitten warriors. Not a one of them was ready to accept peace, nor would they be, until Soundwave had his way.

Scion knew he had been watched the entire time he walked through the tightly clustered dwellings, his wings tucked in far tighter against his frame than he ever wanted to admit. His solitary stroll into what was predominantly Autobot territory was both brazen and stupid, but his Lord wished it of him. He passed many vacant mechs, the wrecks of those who had survived the cataclysm in frame but not spark. Trust the soft Autobots to take them in instead of just leaving them to the work gangs Hook had established.

"You don't belong here."

The shorter, stockier frame-class was still a flier, though planetary bound if Scion remembered his classification system correctly. The speaker also showed no fear as he stepped down into the path of the Seeker wearing bold Decepticon sigils.

"Free planet," Scion forced himself to say, aware of others circling in.

"Maybe for your kind," the squat flier told him with a dismissive snort.

"I say for all kinds," Scion said, half-meaning it, as Megatron's dream floated in his processor. "But it can't happen if we keep dividing ourselves in classes and factions." He could, would do this, because his Lord wanted it.

"So you walked down into the slums to what? Prove we're one kind?" The Autobot pushed right up into Scion's fields and face, glaring.

Scion did not flinch. "Maybe that's just why I came, to learn more of my fellow Cybertronians. Care to be my guide?"

The Autobot gaped at him a long moment, then shook his helm and fell back a little, smile slowly dawning on the dour plates. "Get a load of this, will ya? Fearless and crazy! He might just fit in!" While the others started laughing around them, the red flier threw an introduction pulse into his fields. "Powerglide."

"Scion."

"Well, keep right up, Scion, if you want to know how it is down in the slums." Powerglide fell in beside the Decepticon, and they began moving further into the Autobot territory.

It began when Megatron was in deepest meditation at the temple. After the incident with Chromia, the Lord High Protector had actually begun taking Scion to stay just outside the perimeter during such times. Of course, with Starscream present again, that was a sensible precaution. In the five meta-cycles since Starscream's reactivation, Megatron had foiled two tests of his superiority, but neither one had been directly linked to the Air Commander. It did not matter; Megatron knew the difference between Starscream testing his ability to hold the leadership and Soundwave's more subtle rebellion brewing under the surface.

However, while Scion was attuned to potential danger near the temple, he had no more warning than his lord when the war for Cybertron began. He was trading communiques with the Autobot Powerglide, an ongoing strategy game that was held slowly in their processors. The friendship had been unlikely, but as Scion spent time in the Autobot sectors for Megatron, he could not help but learn a respect for the tough, smaller flier and his comrades. They had survived the Division War and nearly died at the hands of Sentinel Prime's Cataclysm. Despite that, despite their distrust of the Decepticons who held all the power, they were committed to rebuilding Cybertron.

Inside, Megatron felt a fluctuation in the energies as another spark found its way back to the resting point. The smile he normally held for such growth in the well of power he had created was stilled as he felt the confusion and anger, as well as the sense of betrayal. Pressing in on that, the war mech managed to catch the impression this spark was only recently extinguished, and had not traveled far to return home.

::SCION!:: The blast of connection to his bodyguard and operative was followed by physical movement, as Megatron threw himself into the sleek aerial form he had chosen and the temple's shielding roof opened to allow his exit.

::My lord?:: came the startled reply, but the glyphs raining into his processor from the angered war mech filled in the gaps. It was impossible to believe, and yet Megatron had been preparing for this very moment, possibly since they had begun the rebuilding, or maybe even since the 'rescue' of Soundwave. ::I understand, my lord.:: The Seeker banked to carry out his orders swiftly. He had never truly known a religion that wasn't worshiping at the pedes of his lord, but right now, he hoped that luck or other mystical powers favored them in addition to Megatron's magnificent abilities.

Hook was ready. It was his moment. All his brilliance would shine through the mech he had crafted in Longarm.

"Hold to the plan," he advised.

Longarm cast him a deeply impassive look, his specially designed optic reading the variations in energy surrounding his mentor.

"I will succeed." He strode out and transformed into the fearsome battle cannon design Hook had crafted for him, his forces spreading out of their own quarters or from their usual tasks to begin the occupation.

The extinguished spark that served as the warning to Megatron had been the Seeker on duty as the orbital sentry. His flight path was designed by Starscream to keep out of sight of Soundwave's satellites, but the incoming armada had spotted him. Astrotrain had felt a moment of satisfaction to make a kill so quickly, and with one shot, aimed at a precise vulnerability on that build.

He had no idea that the callous kill had affected the thinking of one of his own class. Blitzwing, initially having joined out of class loyalty, had begun to doubt the notion they could wrest control quickly, or that a war this soon was actually worth attempting. His long range scans told him there was a thriving population now, with a strong city built around it. Their species could thrive again. He was uncertain that Soundwave and Astrotrain knew how to, without constant violence, and it made him wonder who the next victims would be if this did not slake that thirst.

Seeing the wanton destruction of a fellow flier, even if it was just a Seeker, left him little doubt that this new war was going to cost their dwindling species far too many.

Starscream's helm jerked around, as if he could see the mech commanding him to the skies from where he and his class lived. The growl was automatic; he hated to be at the beck and call of anyone, yet Megatron's continuing analysis made it clear this was fully in Starscream's self-interest as well.

::SEEKERS! All Flights into the air! Rainmakers, sentry duty here! Full arms, full shields!:: More data streamed between him and the leads of each grouping, as the fractious class united fully behind their leader. For some, battle lust rose swiftly. For others, it was a fire building slowly into rage, as their newly reclaimed home was threatened just as they had let themselves see a future of peace.

The assigned sentries watched their comrades rise with a mix of envy and hope that they would be successful.

Onslaught had long ago worked around the specifically coded virus in his system, and that in his partners' processors. It had suited him, though, with the war ending, to continue the easy con job that was keeping Megatron fooled as to where his loyalty was given. That, namely, was to himself. Secondly, it was to the team, because even he could not break the gestalt. Swindle had certainly tried, many times, even when they were still bound to Megatron directly.

If it could be said that they cared for anything, though, as a team, it was Scion. Teaching him to be a tough-as-tungsten mech, with fighting skills no Seeker usually possessed, had been a team-bonding experience they had all needed with no enemy left to fight.

The gestalt leader had to wonder, then, if it was their known affinity for Scion, or if Megatron suspected the truth after all when the call to battle came from their scrap of a ward.

"Bruticus is needed," was all he said, knowing the others had received the same high-speed, encrypted transmission from Scion.

Vortex leered a little while Brawl smacked one fist into his palm. Blast Off well, Blast Off always looked that disdainful, and Swindle was already tallying profit off whatever they scavenged from whomever got in their way.

Megatron had multiple mini-processors designated strictly to the functions of tactics, analysis, and decision-making in battle. This meant that even as he held his own against the organized fleet, he had more than enough attention span to clearly note the warriors that fought by themselves. He could make educated guesses as to the crew of the leviathan ship that had been brought to bear in the carnage. He would remember each and every name, as he fought for the first time in so many long eons as the Lord High Protector.

The Junkion attack had been nothing more than a nuisance. They had been unprepared to face a true resistance. This? This was his planet under attack, the future of his dream hinging on the outcome. His people were now clearly marked out to the frayed but still present coding of protectorship, and they were threatened by the insurrection that came to a head in the form of Astrotrain.

::Starscream, aim to disable and accept surrenders.:: Megatron had to actually filter the ensuing squawks of profanity and disbelief, but his lieutenant would see sense in the end. Raw, uncontaminated code was needed to diversify the coming generations, and any one of these deep space fighters might hold that code. He let loose a barrage of weapon-fire, preventing Astrotrain from getting the proper angle for an atmosphere entry. He was closing fast on the leader, but already knew fighters were making it through to assist the rebellion on the ground. ::The exception, my lieutenant, is Astrotrain himself. Should any engage him other than myself, feel free to destroy him.:: That soothed the Air Commander somewhat, and the Flights arrayed themselves according to the disabling strategy.

Starscream himself angled to clear the space that separated himself from Megatron or Astrotrain, more likely.

Inwardly, Megatron smiled. His kind, the inheritors of Cybertron, were on the cusp of their inheritance, with one last crucible to forge their metal into the purity he desired.

Scion streaked in, wings folded back for the more narrow passages, until he had to give up flight and tumble into a run on the decking. ::Powerglide! Powerglide, I want you!::

The sends were directed and pointed, but the Autobot sectors always seemed to muffle his communications to a slight degree. Finally, when he had almost reached the dwelling of his friend, he saw the smaller flier exit a building that was quickly barricaded on his exit.

/They know?/

"Friend or no friend, if you've brought trouble down on us " Powerglide began, raising a fist threateningly. "This is your war, not ours!"

"You know!" How had they known when his lord had been caught off guard?

Powerglide caught that stunned surprise, the creeping edge of suspicion, and relaxed his fist to rest it on the young Seeker's wrist. "Soundcreep set off a signal of some kind, some kind of processor-manipulation. We're not going to help you, but I'll tell you that much, knowing you hate him much as any of us. Only, we had ways to safeguard ourselves, ever since Chief Medical was here, and guessed what was up. Only a few tried to go, and we stopped them, to keep them safe."

That made a strange amount of sense. Especially since Blaster had left with the medic. Blaster would have held clues on how to combat Soundwave's perversions. But that also meant Powerglide and his people were proof, solid proof, that Soundwave was involved. That put them at risk.

"Powerglide, you can't just barricade yourselves in here. Lord Megatron estimates that most of the ground forces are under control of the subversives, and my kind have to keep the skies clear. We need your help!" Scion would consider the fact he had thrown both truth and passion into those words later, when they felt more like an admittance of weakness. Already he was rationalizing the fact that he counted Powerglide as a friend, the relationship built during all the cycles since Megatron assigned him as Autobot Liaison Officer.

"What does it matter to us, which of those power-glitched mechs are in charge? We're just the crazy source of extra labor to either of them, and life goes on as it ever does, Scion," Powerglide explained. "We fought our war. Against your people."

"So you'd go with the mech that tried to use you as mindless soldiers over the one who made certain you had a place, peace, and a way to get any concerns to him immediately? Or didn't you think Megatron had a hand in encouraging me to come down here? I'm his personal guard!"

"You make me doubt our friendship when you put it that way," Powerglide said in a rumble of a threat. Distantly, they heard pulse-fire, indicating the war on the ground did have at least some resistance to the entrenched grounders.

Scion covered the hand that had never left his wrist. "It was an assignment, but Megatron is right! We are one people, and you have done more to show me that than anyone else on this planet!" Desperately, Scion lowered his shields enough to flick his personal fields along Powerglide's, leaving himself vulnerable. There was resistance, and then Powerglide stepped close enough to throw his own shields around the young Seeker. "I trust in you," Scion said, as an answer to the wordless challenge he had thrown out by giving his defense to another. "Help us make one world united."

Powerglide shook his helm. "You're asking me and mine to forget how many classes he decimated, how many no longer exist because he didn't have enough power standing at the temple with his equal."

"No. I'm asking you to make it clear to him that he was wrong then, and right now, to trust in the power of our species as one," Scion told his friend, even as the battle sounds wafted in more clearly. "This is your home, that you have built. Do you really think Soundwave will let you keep it, considering how he already tried to turn you into unwitting cannon fodder?"

The moment that defined the life Blitzwing wanted to have came in the flash of a realization that Megatron, well-known to be ruthless and unforgiving, was not shooting to deactivate. The triple-changer had been holding back, providing cover for the smaller space-worthy Decepticons, while he considered the situation. Seeing that, his partner Octane had also held himself back to the rear of the armada, trying to keep the Seeker fleet from attaining hull-breaches on their one leviathan.

::This is wrong.::

The send from Blitzwing to Octane was filled with layers of meaning, from attacking their own home-world to Megatron's determined fighting that left mechs on the verge of stasis but not deactivated.

::So ::

Before Blitzwing could answer that, Megatron finally engaged Astrotrain directly, and Starscream was none too far from him. Blitzwing weighed all options, especially his own feelings, and made his decision.

::Start convincing as many of them as we can to fall back or surrender.::

Octane tried very hard not to send back all the shock he felt, but it leaked through anyway. ::Blitz?::

::They won't destroy us. He'd be doing it now, if that was his intent. But I have a feeling it will go a lot better for anyone who stops fighting than those that are forced to submit,:: the elder triple-changer told his partner.

Longarm crashed into Scion within moments of the Seeker finally appearing on the battlefield. Devastator was locked in combat with Bruticus, with no clear victor in the making. Around them, the pitiful forces loyal to Megatron among the Decepticons were being corralled and overwhelmed by the forces under Longarm's command.

::Submit, and I will allow you to be my pet Seeker. Not such a change for you, is it brother?:: Longarm sent through the tactile link as he grappled with the lithe, smaller mech.

::I am no pet!:: The Seeker's rage provided what his skill could not, fueling the fight. Scion was at a disadvantage and knew it, as Longarm had taken his full course of upgrades and out-massed him by a third. However, Scion was just as gifted as the mech he had been patterned from when it came to designing weaponry, a factor he had used in creating the last upgrade Ratchet had installed for him. When Longarm's punching blade penetrated Scion's torso, electricity arced back down the blade and into the aggressive mech, pushing Longarm to fall back and allowing Scion a chance to recover some distance.

"You cannot win! We have all the resources! We built this city! WE WILL TAKE IT FOR OURSELVES!" Longarm thundered at his opponent. Scion, trying to both stem his energon loss and bring up his modified nullification rays, did not bother to answer.

The roar of Powerglide's followers did it for him as the Autobots and even the broken, near-mindless survivors of the Cataclysm poured toward the battle.

"Terrans have a saying, my Lord once said," Scion managed to spit out as Longarm tried to react to the changing odds. "Even vermin will fight back when cornered, and those? Are veterans of a war you nor I can comprehend as more than a textual fact."

The grounded mech could not react fast enough as Scion leaped up, ignoring the pain to transform, and joined his friend in the skies to bring about an end to the fight for their world.

Soundwave, distant from the melee, was not impressed that neither his careful conditioning of the Autobots had worked, nor that his plans were failing to come to successful fruition. He felt the tide of battle, above and on the planet itself turning away from his own odds, and moved to go toward the launcher. If he could escape the planet quickly enough, all was not lost.

His path was impeded by Ravage, whose optics gleamed with predatory interest. In a brief push against the supposed symbiont's firewalls, Soundwave knew that his fate had been sealed the day Megatron introduced him to the dangerous survivor

He brought up his shields and weapons to prepare for the fight, knowing Buzzsaw was lurking, and unsure if the bonding or the wish for freedom would win in the flier's coding.

Megatron was the first to find the manipulator behind all the events. Seeing the damage Ravage had already taken, the Lord High Protector nearly finished the task the cyber-hunter had begun, but he had to make a firm example. Everyone would see the outcome of this attempt to wrest control from him. A curt command to Starscream, who bore his own damage as if it did not exist, and the hunter was carried away for repairs. Reflector did not like applying his scientific prowess to other mechs, preferring his more anti-social pursuits, but until Megatron had a constructor he could trust, Reflector was going to be in charge of repairs.

That left the broken form of Buzzsaw, turning brittle with the loss of energon, and the nearly destroyed mech who had served Megatron's purposes even in his rebellion.

"Did you dare dream I did not know, Soundwave? Or did you truly fall to the belief I was weak and unworthy of my place?" The war-mech snapped a heel out, crushing the weapon Soundwave had been trying to bring to full power. "I knew." Now, Megatron crouched, optics near Soundwave's. "I used you this time, shadow-king." The Lord High Protector smiled, but it was cold and edged with all his triumph in this moment. "Your rebellion has been the final crucible for annealing our race into what I see for their future." With that said, Megatron lashed out one more time, knowing Soundwave had felt defeat truly sink in at the thought of being out-manipulated, and sent the mech into a full crash of his systems. Only then did Megatron drag the heavy frame to the repair bay.

Scion tried hard not to hiss as Powerglide pulled on his wing, trying to align it correctly. Both of them were smeared in char and dried energon, and Scion knew he should return to the palace. He didn't really want to get swept up in the aftermath of this so quickly, and Powerglide seemed to understand the oddities of his frame enough to work on him.

He didn't want to dwell on the fight, he found. It had been different, repelling the Junkions. This? This had worked in under his sense of self, the self that was more than willing to defend his own existence, the self that had no problem bucking up against Starscream or anyone who dared threaten him. It made him regret, and that was an emotion he wasn't comfortable with at all.

"Honorable Flier?"

The voice made Scion look, expecting one of the pathetic ones to be speaking to Powerglide. It was shocking then that one of the higher-functioning ones was standing there, offering him a ration cube. The amber eyes showed no fear, and the hands did not tremble as they held the cube out. Scion reached out, accepting the cube, and then forced a smile for the wretched no, not wretched, damaged one. "Thank you." The verbal pleasantry sent the damaged survivor scurrying away, but Scion saw the faint flicker of pleasure in the fields.

Maybe he had fewer regrets, after seeing that, even if he could never admit any of this to his Lord.

The full population had been commanded to come forward for the day of judging. The Autobots were arranged so that they shielded their broken wards, but they had come to avoid angering the war-mech who now held this planet entirely, with no resistance capable of meeting him. Scion had seen Powerglide very ably leading them in; his friend was showing all the signs Megatron had taught him to look for in leaders, despite having never been more than an auxiliary in the war, by the records Scion had found.

The assembled rebels who had survived were in chains and at the center of the surviving Seeker Flights. Starscream stood to one side of the Lord High Protector, and Scion was tolerating the fact he stood equal with his pattern-maker on the central dais. For once, they seemed to be in accord with their Lord's wishes to tolerate one another.

Longarm, Soundwave, and Hook were at the forefront of the prisoners, while the row behind them held Blitzwing and Octane both. The rest of the rabble, which included no few Autobots who had rejected the peace, waited, certain of the fact their fate rested in the claws of a mech who had plunged their entire race into civil war for reasons no better than ambition.

A combined hiss of shock rippled out as Megatron snapped his fingers, and three mechs who looked like no other class emerged from the bunker to the side. Those mechs who had existed long enough stiffened with fear and caution, both among the free and the imprisoned.

"Cybertronians, this day is the end of the war, for once and all, between those who choose to call themselves Decepticons or Autobots to the detriment of our race," Megatron began, as each of the three insectoid mechs stopped in front of one of the front row prisoners. "Mercy will be granted to all who surrendered, but they will be banned from carrying any weaponry until I have individually spoken to each one."

Silence rippled through the crowd; that had not been expected by many. The silence gave Megatron time to speak clearly and have his words be heard by every mech there. He wanted none to miss it.

"Blitzwing and Octane will transport those who did not surrender willingly to a planet of my choosing. They will do so under a Flight commanded by Thrust. Longarm is the designated leader of this new 'colony', which will be his perfect dream of a flier-less society, as both triple changers are invited to return as full members of our society, all past crimes and insurrections forgotten. To make the trip more efficient, Kickback will be in charge of siphoning excess energy from the transportees."

Protests grew into a roar, as the named Insecticon violently deconstructed into a mass of small flying drones, swarming out to preordained targets. The noise died, with some protests of 'mercy' called before the only noise was that of mechs falling on the field, chains losing their glow as the mechs lost power under the leeching effect of the swarm.

"Now, I have named Longarm leader, choosing him over two highly placed officers without the typical battle for supremacy," Megatron stepped forward, walking to just behind the two remaining Insecticons. "Soundwave, you have existed through three pairs of leaders on Cybertron, and had a hand in many administrative decisions. You were useful, for a time. Now, you have reached too far. Shrapnel is immune to your unique abilities, and has been very hungry for a very long time."

"I take that from you!" Soundwave declared, hatred in every syllable before he instigated a self-destruct. The mech fell to one knee, robbing Megatron of the full horror of the chosen death. The Lord High Protector growled, but turned Shrapnel lose to devour what remained, erasing Soundwave from any form of existence save memory.

He did not doubt Starscream would eliminate that as well, with careful tinkering in the databases.

Hook was stiff with dignity, refusing to admit defeat, and incapable of the level of self-harm Soundwave had managed. His ward, Longarm, had excelled, even if the plans had gone astray. "Of course none of my class would lead, Lord High Protector," Hook began, but Megatron cut him off with a growl of 'silence!' that left the crowd leaning in to hear of this next fate.

"Bombshell, this one has skills that are useful, but his concept of self is getting in the way of that usefulness," Megatron decreed. "Fix that for me."

"NO, my Lord, please!" Hook screamed, trying to jerk forward and plead for mercy, but Bombshell was already bringing up his hand and transforming it to implant the device that would eradicate Hook's personality completely.

Megatron tasted the scream that followed with savage pleasure, but walked back calmly to his place on the dais. He looked over the crowds, prisoners and allies alike. His point was made; he could show mercy and ruthlessness in one maneuver, while maintaining Cybertron's place as what he cared for in their optics.

He had forged a race that would be powerful, while Longarm's rebels brewed in their discontent to be a problem that would plague and sharpen the future generations of Cybertronians. As he mounted the dais, he flicked his awareness over both Seekers, tasting their contrasting reactions. Scion was deeply thoughtful, possibly tinged by disgust of some kind, but it was aimed at the prisoners, not Megatron.

Starscream, as always, was wary and contemplating insurrection of his own, no doubt. Megatron would let him; every greatness had to be measured by the trials overcome, after all. A few more ceremonial words, and the assembly was broken up to turn to duties.

That left Megatron time to write his brother for the safe keeping of Blaster, last of a once common class.

" in short, brother, the cost of my gamble was minimal. Some were lost, but in the full scope of it, I believe this will end the wars between our factions for the foreseeable future. Enjoy the peace while we have it; universal law demands that something evolve to meet us on the grounds we exist already."

Optimus closed the communication down, and realized he'd been more than remiss in his duties to his brother, contemplating all that had happened since Ratchet had returned from Cybertron.

"You have no idea, brother," he said softly, before beginning his own briefing to send back.