It was pitch black out, the only illumination coming from the feeble light of the moon overhead.  The streets were pretty much deserted now, with only the occasional passage of a patrol to break the silence.  Moving quietly, a trio of figures slipped along the back streets, trying desperately to evade the patrols out there.  They had already been forced to jump one, and though they had been lucky there, it wasn’t a good idea to push luck too far.  It had a tendency to give out at the most inopportune moment.

     The leader held his hand up, signaling for the other two to stop.  Poking his head out around the corner, he motioned for them to hurry across the street.  Their destination was in front of them now, and there was no one around to see them.  Exactly as planned.

     When they reached the door, the leader motioned for one of his men to come up front.  Quickly, the leader explained what he needed, and the soldier set to work on the door locks.  Though they were complicated, the man in question had been chosen for just such an occasion, and managed to get past them in less than five minutes.  Behind him, the third figure stood, watching the street and cradling his rifle in his arms.  He looked back when he felt a tap on his shoulder, and saw that they were in.  Quickly, he stepped inside.

     It was lighter inside.  Overhead lamps provided illumination at the standard level, and their armor glinted in the light.  Taking turn covering each other, they made their way up the hallway, until they reached their target.  Another door stood before them, but this was much easier to open.  Reaching out, the leader simply punched in a seven-digit access code, and the door lock clicked open.  He turned the handle and stepped inside, his men following him in.

     Quickly, they spread out, searching through drawers and cabinets, leaving no stone unturned.  It had taken them a lot of effort to get in here, and they had no intention of leaving before they had what they wanted.

     “Congratulations, Colonel.” Optimus said, looking down at the Terran marine commander.  “I must admit, I had my doubts in the beginning.  However, your men have proven more than up to the task.”  In his hands, Optimus held a small data pad, the results of both the Terran espionage mission a few days ago and heavy work with Autobot code-breakers.

     “Thank you, sir.” McQueen responded.  “My men and I are happy to have been able to help, in whatever way we could.”  McQueen felt a fierce sense of pride in his men right now.  Sure, it was their job to get things done, but they had managed to do it with no loss of life, and without anyone being aware of them.  Had he been more vain, he would have attributed the success of the mission to his leadership, but McQueen knew that the success of a mission hinged on the actions of the whole group, and he had to admit that his two partners had done an ideal job.  “If it’s not classified, sir,” McQueen said, “just what was in those files?”  For operational security, McQueen and the other two had not been briefed on what, specifically, their mission had been; they had been told where to go and what to look for, but they didn’t really know what it was that they had retrieved.

     “This, Colonel,” Optimus replied, indicating the data pad, “is crucial information.  Troop displacements, battle projections, and R&D reports were contained in the files you and your men got a few days ago.  Hopefully, these will give us a leg up on the Decepticons.  Ideally, we could use the information to cow them into a cease-fire, but that is only a pipedream, I’m afraid.  Decepticon mentality would not permit their leaders to agree to such a thing unless truly extenuating circumstances were in effect, and even then the rank-and-file would resist the idea.”

     “I see, sir.” McQueen responded.  “Well, if there is nothing further?”  Optimus shook his head.  “Very good.  If you’ll excuse me, I need to see to some of my men.  Good day, sir.”  With a salute that would have done even the most grizzled sergeants proud, McQueen turned smartly on his heel and walked out, his powered armor humming softly as he walked.

     “I don’t get why they walk around in that all the time,” Optimus muttered to himself.  “Are they that self-conscious about their size?”  Shrugging to himself, Optimus signaled for Grimlock, Prowl and Wheeljack to report to him at once.  As an afterthought, he also sent for Goldbug and Ultra Magnus.  One could never receive too much advice, he thought to himself.  Of course, that was assuming that one could separate the good from the bad.

     “Thanks to a covert team of Terran marines, we were able to retrieve information about the Decepticons next move.”  Pressing a small button on the arm of his chair, Optimus brought up a holo-map from emitters in the tabletop.

     “The Decepticons, it seems, are massing serious forces for a strike at Rubigen.  Apparently, they feel confident that, if they can eliminate the energon stores in Rubigen, then Crystal City will fall as well.”  He paused as the others in the room examined the situation.

     “From a tactical standpoint, it is a brilliant maneuver.” Ultra Magnus said, breaking the silence.  “With only Cybertropolis remaining to supply Crystal City, both cities will be weakened, and Crystal City’s lower energon stores will make it easy pickings for the enemy.”

     “Just one problem: we don’t have the free troops to reinforce Crystal City heavily enough.” Goldbug said.  “From the description here, the Decepticons intend to throw just about every available trooper against Rubigen.  Even if we stripped Cybertropolis and conscripted the populace of the city, we still wouldn’t have the needed manpower.”

     “I’ve had the Technobots, among others, working on those problems.” Optimus replied.  A low murmur could be heard in the briefing room, as this was the first that anyone had heard of it.  Reaching out, Optimus pressed a key in front of him, and the holo-map of Rubigen and the surrounding area was replaced by a wireframe schematic of a Transformer.  It took the others in the room to recognize it; though the superstructure had started off based on the original, subsequent changes had been made.  At last, however, Wheeljack gasped.

     “By Primus,” he said, “that can’t be…”

     “Indeed it is, Wheeljack.  You are looking at Omega Supreme.  Or at least, he used to be.”  Optimus found that he was fighting an urge to grin foolishly, impossible though it might be.  “Combining technological theory from the headmasters and the powermasters, Omega Supreme agreed to field-test this new theory.”  The diagram zoomed in on his chest, showing that there was a new design.  In the middle of his chest was a large hatch.  The outer layer was stripped away, revealing that Omega Supreme now housed a pretty comfortable looking couch.

     “A standard sized Transformer can now enter Omega Supreme.  Once inside, they connect directly to his neural net and internal reactor.  This serves the dual purpose of increasing his power level and his intelligence.” Optimus finished, leaning back.  Added to that very unique modification were several upgrades, among which were laser cannons on his shoulders and the reworking of his hand.  He now possessed a five-fingered hand, instead of the three-fingered claw.

     “Geez, Optimus.” Goldbug said.  “What other little surprises do you have up your sleeve?”  Optimus, however, was in no mood to reveal all the projects that he had going right now, even had there been time.  Which, he reflected, he did not.  The attack on Rubigen was scheduled to commence in eight days, which would be barely enough to get the reinforcement troops and Omega Supreme there.

     “I’m sorry, Goldbug, but there are other things that need to be dealt with now.” Optimus said.  “Now, the defenses of Rubigen are adequate, but will need to be improved, obviously.  If anyone has any suggestions?”

     The meeting went on long into the night, finally resulting in what all agreed was the best possible strategy.  Of course, no one was totally happy with it, but some problems simply could not be ironed out with limited time and units.

     The next few days were hectic for the Autobot Military.  They were required to get their people over to Rubigen, but they were also forced to do it subtly.  Unfortunately, it is fantastically difficult to move large amounts of troops without moving even larger amounts of ammunition, provisions, and other support items.  Added to that, they had to think of some way to get Omega Supreme and Optimus in there without anyone noticing.

     “Optimus,” Prowl said, standing at attention, “we’ve transferred all available troops to Rubigen, and we doubt that the Decepticons caught wind of it.  However, there is no way that we can transfer Omega Supreme there.  He is simply too large to move secretly.”

     “There must be an answer, Prowl.” Optimus replied.  He was seated in Rubigen’s control tower, looking out over the city below.  He had made the trip to Rubigen on his own, in vehicle mode, to avoid drawing attention to himself.  As such, he had arrived a little later, but it had been worth it.  The Decepticons appeared to have no idea that the Autobots had compromised their operational security, and that Rubigen had turned into one giant trap.  “Rubigen will stand or fall depending upon whether or not Omega is here.  We both know that.  Find a way.”

     “Yes sir.” Prowl said, saluting, before stepping out of the office and into the hallway beyond.  Once the door had closed safely, Prowl couldn’t help but let out a sigh of exasperation.  ‘There must be an answer, Prowl.’  Easy for Optimus to say, he thought to himself.  Still, Prowl had made his reputation on getting things done, and he had no intention of failing his commander now.  By hook or by crook, he would get Omega to Rubigen.

     “Man, the city’s packed.” Kobal complained.  He and Dogfight were trying to get to the Oil Slick, a nearby energon bar, but the press of bodies on the road was proving to be a problem.

     “No kidding.” Dogfight replied.  “They must have stripped Cybertropolis bare for this.  Hope they know what they’re doing.”  For another few moments, they tried to elbow their way through the crowd, managing to get nowhere.  “This is nuts!  Nobody can get anywhere, but everybody clogs the streets!” Dogfight shouted at last.

     Of course, the streets weren’t really the problem.  The problem was that everyone knew something big was about to happen, but nobody knew what that was.  And it was that sense of something large hanging just out of sight that made everybody just a little crankier, a little easier to pick a fight with.  Nervous tension ran rampant throughout the city, and the cure would be worse than the problem.