“What did you just say, Commodore?” Optimus asked incredulous.  Surely he could not have heard that correctly.

     “As a representative of the Terran Hegemony, I request that, as per the Transformer/Terran treaty, you assist the Terran forces on Cybertron.  War has been declared between the Hegemony and the Decepticon Empire, and as the treaty states, you are required to provide any requested aid against enemies both foreign and domestic.” Ross repeated, his tone stiff and mechanical.  “I am sending you the location of our forces, and I assume that you will dispatch the relevant forces.”  For the next part, his tone softened.  “I am sorry, Councillor.  I did not wish to draw your people back into a civil war, but I have my orders, and men who are depending on me.  And I will be damned if I let them think I abandoned them.”

     “Well, I cannot say that I approve of this course of action, but I am legally obligated to offer aid.  Very well,” he sighed, “I will dispatch military forces to your position as soon as possible.” Optimus said.

     “The Hegemony also requests that you dispatch supplies and support staff to reinforce the position.”  Again, Optimus sighed, but the legalities of the treaty forced his hand.  It would seem that, by his desire to create good relations with the Hegemony when drawing up the treaty, he had caught himself in a web of his own good intentions.  Perhaps the Terran saying about the road to hell was true after all.

     “When can you expect Terran reinforcements?” Optimus asked.  The sooner they got there, the better.  Though he respected the Terrans and wished no harm to come to them, he certainly did not wish to lose any of his own people either.

     “A battlegroup is expected to arrive a week from now.”  Ross replied.  “It will be carrying reinforcement Marines, supplies and ordinance.  Once it arrives, your forces are free to withdraw.”

     “Excellent.” Optimus murmured. One week of his troops risking themselves, and then he could withdraw them and try and negotiate some type of settlement.  “Very well, Commodore Ross.  I will accede to the wishes of the Hegemony.  However, my troops will make no offensive movement, and will only defend against an attack.  Is that clear?”

     “Crystal, sir.” Ross replied.  “In truth, I expected no more of you, and perhaps less.  Thank you, Optimus Prime.”  With a brief movement, he shut off the data stream, and Optimus was left with a black screen.  Dropping his head into his hands, Optimus slumped into his chair.

     “By Primus,” he said to himself, “will these problems never cease?”

     The next person to see Autobot leader Optimus Prime saw him in a much different light.  After taking a few moments to work out some simple logistics on his own, he called in Ironhide.  The Autobot Security Officer was nominally in charge of the military for now, so Optimus would send the orders through him.

     “Ironhide, I want you to send out a message to all military and Peace officers.  We are going to help the Terrans defend themselves, and we would like volunteers.  No-one is under any compunction to respond to this.  I want you to make that clear.”

     “You got it, Prime.  Who you gonna’ get to head up this mission?” Ironhide asked, picking up a few of the data pads Optimus had left around.

     “With Grimlock incapacitated, I’ve got a few options.  Probably either you or Kup.  Why do you ask?” Optimus replied.

     “I know the war’s over and all, but I’d still love to bust some Decepticons.” Ironhide said.  Though peace had come, Ironhide was one amongst the many who had not been quite willing to throw away all the old prejudices.  Though he would never let it colour his actions, Optimus knew that he still held no love for the Decepticons.

     “If you’re volunteering, you’re welcome to it.  But remember, you are to take up a defensive position only.  I want no offensive actions.  Do you understand me?”  It was obvious that Optimus did not want this to get any more complicated than it already was.  Out of loyalty to his commander, Ironhide agreed that he would order no offensive actions on the part of the Autobots.

     Though he had his reservations, Optimus let him go.  Ironhide was a good soldier and loyal, so he felt better after having received his word.  If there was one thing that the old guard Autobots knew, it was that after you’d been through combat with a bot, you could always trust his word.  Optimus lamented that this new generation of Autobots and Decepticons would learn this lesson as well.

     “…volunteers only.  Repeat, an Autobot force is being assembled to assist the Terran marines.  It will be accepting volunteers only.”  Ironhide’s words split the comfortable silence that Kobal and Kestral had been enjoying.  The pair had been released earlier that day, and with the Dinobots already having reported them as incapacitated, they had decided to spend the day together.  They had walked through the metal gardens of Cybertron, marvelling at the exquisite sculptures that Cybertronians had done of flora, both real and imagined.  They had sat atop the skyscrapers and watched the city below.  And then they had returned to Kobal’s quarters.

     Unlike Soundwave, Kobal’s dwelling looked as though it was actually inhabited.  There was a tri-d screen, artwork and comfortable seats, and a large window that faced east, allowing him to watch the sun set.  Right now, the pair were relaxing on the balcony, with Kobal’s arms around Kestral’s waist.

     When he heard the transmission, Kobal could not help but let some of his emotion seep through.  Being born after the end of the Great War, he had seen no actual combat, and a part of him was anxious to see if he had what it took to stay calm under fire.

     “You’re going?” Kestral asked, her voice neutral.  She knows you, he thought to himself, better than you know yourself.  Without looking, it seemed that she had deduced what he was thinking.

     “I am.” he replied evenly.  Neither of them spoke for a moment, simply staring at the evening sky.

     “There’s nothing I can do, is there?” she asked at last.  Silence continued to surround them, and she knew that his silence was his answer.  There was nothing that she could say to dissuade him, and nothing that he wished to tell her about at this moment.  Turning, she looked at Kobal, searching his eyes.  “Then I want you to promise me something.  Will you?”  He nodded.  “Don’t do anything stupid.  Understand?”

     “Yes, dear.” he said, adopting a somewhat cowed tone and looking abashed.  “Now, can I go out and play?”  Even in the most serious moment, he always knew how to make her laugh, and it flowed out of her now.

     “Only if you promise to clean your room, too.” she replied between chuckles.  They both smiled and laughed for a moment, letting their troubles seep away.  There were too few times like this in the present, hectic world.  Too little chance for people to relax, to simply unburden themselves.  At length, she turned back to the cityscape, watching as the setting sun tinted the sky a crimson red, fading out to pink at the edges.

     “Kestral,” Kobal began.  The mood was just right, it seemed, the whole of creation telling him that now was the time.  “I uh.. I just wanted to say…”  He was floundering, and they both knew it.  He’d never really been good at expressing himself seriously, so Kestral had learned early on to interpret what he did manage to say.

     “I know.” she said, patting his hand.  Turning again in his arms, she straightened up and lightly touched her lips to his cheek before drawing back.  Like a dam breaking, Kobal found that his emotions were threatening to sweep him away.  He grasped her in a fierce hug, not daring to let go, as though she would somehow be spirited away before he could work up the nerve to say the words.  He felt, at that moment, that he could stay that way forever.

     But apparently she did not.  Pushing him back, she straightened up, her back having been bent at an uncomfortable angle during the embrace.  When she was comfortable again, she reached out and grasped his hands, leading him back into the living quarters.

     It should, of course, be noted that the Transformers, being an alien, mechanical race, do not conform to the ways in which we express affection.  Nevertheless, they are not cold and uncaring, and they are quite capable of loving and hating as fiercely as any human.  They are also capable to things that we are not, and things that perhaps should be left between them.

     “Am I clear doc?” Dogfight asked.  He had finally come around, and First Aid was giving him a good once over to check for anything that might have eluded him the other trillion times.  It seemed to Dogfight that the doctors of Cybertron would be willing to break your leg so that you couldn’t go out and risk breaking your leg.

     “As far as I can see, Dogfight, you have recovered completely.  There is no reason for you to remain here any longer.” First Aid replied, shutting off his diagnostic equipment.  “However, I would counsel you to take care.  Though the stresses placed on your body have been repaired, it is bad for the spark to suffer too much too often.”

     “No worries, doc.” Dogfight replied, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.  Hopping off, he stood up for the first time in a long time, and relished being free of that bed.  “You know me; I’m mister careful.” he said in an insincere tone.

     “So, I should hold this bed for you?” First Aid muttered as Dogfight walked out of the room.  There were times, he thought to himself, that he wondered why bots didn’t take better care of themselves if they hated the care facilities so much.  Yet another illustration of the illogical way non-medical bots thought about the medical establishment.

     “…and that’s the last thing I remember.” Dogfight said.  He was sitting in the Council chambers, conversing with Optimus Prime about the incident in the power tubes.  He had covered meeting up with Mirage, finding those five Transformers in the tubes, the firefight with them, and the explosive they had planted several times now, as Optimus had wanted to make sure he had it all right.

     “And you are sure that you did not recognise the Transformers you met in the tubes?” Optimus asked, leaning back in his chair.  For the third time, Dogfight nodded no.  “Were you able to make out any markings on them?  Could you tell if they were Autobot or Decepticon?”

     “I’m sorry Optimus, it was just too dark in there, and they purposefully stayed in the shadows.  There was no way to identify them.” Dogfight replied.  Besides, with weapons blazing, Mirage going down and a bomb set to blow the Council chambers sky-high, he really hadn’t had the time to stop and ask for id.  Not that he was about to tell Optimus that.

     “All right, Dogfight.  Sorry to keep you here, but as you can imagine, this is something I wanted to have absolutely clear.”  Especially due to the fact that that bomb was set to go off at the same time as the engagement between the Decepticons and the Terrans.  Something that suggested a planned first strike, either by the Decepticons themselves or a faction within them.  Either way, this would definitely complicate things.

     As Optimus was lost in thought, Dogfight decided to excuse himself from the Council chambers.  Deep thoughts were not exactly his forte, so he figured that he wouldn’t be much use to Prime in there.  Anyway, he had heard something about a military activity, and he was anxious to find out what was happening.