The world comes slowly back.  Gone are the images of infinite death and suffering.  They are replaced by a ceiling, white, with a weak light shining above him.  He has no idea where he is, or why he is here.  Slowly, the rest of  his body begins to respond, and he is shocked to find he is missing arm.  The armor around his left shoulder and torso is also missing.  And as if that weren’t enough, Primus seems to have gifted him with a splitting headache.

     Outside, in the observation room, four sets of eyes focus on the monitor.  It all looks good, and it seems the Optimus is making an impressive comeback.  At last, Ratchet allowed them to go in, but one at a time.  There was, of course, no question as to who would be going in first.

     Through the door burst Elita One, all thoughts of yelling at him forgotten.  She rushed over towards his side, and gave him a huge hug.  Then, remembering Ratchets request that she go easy on him, she let him go, and settled for holding his hand instead.

     “I’m sorry.” Optimus said at last.  “But it looks like I’ve missed our date.”  He let out a weak chuckle, and she responded with a little laugh.  They began to talk, reminiscing and planning for the seemingly perpetual ‘next time’, but were interrupted before long.  The door opened, and Ratchet poked his head in.

     “Time’s up, I’m afraid.” he said, motioning for Elita One to come out.  Giving Optimus’ hand a last squeeze, she got up and left,  passing by Ratchet.  The doctor also left, allowing Prowl to enter.  One of  Optimus' most trusted advisors, he was about to say something when the sounds of a scuffle breaking out came through the door, and a moment later, Grimlock sauntered through.  The Dinobot commander had not wanted to wait, it seemed.

     Ratchet had other ideas.  Grabbing Grimlocks shoulder, he spun him around so that they were looking each other face to face.  “Dang it, Grimlock, now is not the time for your pigheadedness.  Optimus needs rest, but as you three were determined to see him, I agreed.  Provided you went in one at a time.  And what happens?”  It was obvious that Ratchet was more than a little upset, and nobody was really surprised.  They all knew how much Ratchet cared for the patients under his care, and hated to see them put themselves at risk over anything.  “I let Prowl in, and you start babbling about questions and advice and try to force your way through me!  Is something wrong with your neural net?”  Ratchet was more than ready to go on, but Prowl stepped in, fortunately.

     “Doctor, it is obvious that the events which took place last night are of great concern to us.” he said, indicating both Grimlock and himself.  “And it would greatly speed our questioning if we were both allowed inside at the same time.  You have my word that we will not excite Optimus, and that once our questions are answered, we will leave.  Now, can Grimlock please remain?”

     Rather than answer, Ratchet just threw his arms up in frustration and stalked out, muttering about ‘fools and hardheads’.  The two remaining Autobots took seats on Optimus’ right side, and immediately began to ask him things.  Prowl started first.  “Do you remember anything about the events of last night, sir?  Anything which might help?”

     “First off, I’ve told you you can call me Optimus, Prowl.”  Optimus leaned his head back for a moment, deep in thought.  “I remember leaving the council chamber.  We had been discussing the Autobot/Decepticon migrations, and what the Decepticons were planning.  I was out in the street, headed towards Elita’s.  There was an Autobot in the street, with a knife.  He was small, a little larger than Goldbug I think.  He came at me, called me a traitor.”  Optimus paused again, his face showing he was concentrating extremely hard.  “I hit him, but he stabbed me.  That’s it.” he finished.

     “What about your assailant?  Do you remember what he looked like?” Prowl asked.

     “Aside from being small?  Not really.” Optimus said.  “I think he was predominantly red,
and modeless.  But aside from that, I’m sorry, I don’t remember anything.”  It was obvious that he was still tired, and Grimlock and Prowl would have been happy to leave him alone then and there, if not for one thing.

     “Prime.” Grimlock said, “What you tell humans?  About loss of Infinity?”  From Grimlocks tone, Optimus could tell this was important.  Thinking hard, he managed to recall the message he sent.

     “I told them that their ships were attacked by an unidentified group of ships.”  Prowl shot him a somewhat condescending look.  “Look, I know that it sounds wrong.  But the Decepticons had just announced their split, things were getting crazy, and I just needed a little time.  I was willing to tell them about recovering the recording later.  Why?” he asked Grimlock.

     “Dreadnought and three battlecruisers closing on Cybertron.  First message demanded we turn over ‘Decepticon criminals responsible for unprovoked act of aggression’.  Exact quote.”  It was obvious that Grimlock was not happy to be handling this on his own, and Optimus couldn’t blame him.  This was a potentially disastrous situation, and an overall great time for Optimus to be placed out of commission.  “Looks like somebody make mistake.” he said.

     “All right,” Prime sighed.  “This is a sticky situation, and the humans will need to be handled delicately.”  Thinking fast, Optimus began to plan.  “I’ll need some sort of video hook-up, and a satellite connection.  I’ll talk to the captain of the Dreadnought, and…”  Prime, however, was unable to go any further, as Ratchet burst into the room.  He had been watching from the other room, and this latest assault on his patient’s health was just too much.

     “No.  Absolutely not.  I completely forbid it.  You need time to rest and recover, and that is not going to be helped by you getting into an argument with a Dreadnought captain.”  This had been, it seemed, the last straw.  Ratchet had surely been as compromising as any doctor could have been, but even he had his limits.  “Now gentlemen,” he said, indicating Prowl and Grimlock, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.  My patient must rest before I will attempt to replace his arm and the surrounding systems, and I’m sure he wants to get back into action as soon as possible.  Thus, the longer you stay here, the longer it will take Optimus to recover.”  No one could fault the doctors logic, not even Prowl, so he and Grimlock stood up, bid goodbye to their leader, and trooped out, under the stern gaze of Ratchet.  Once they were gone, Ratchet looked back at Optimus.  “Now, if you can spend the rest of the day relaxed, your system should be ready for the reconstruction.  If not, you’ll be sitting here for another day.”

     Leaving Optimus to ponder the wisdom of aggravating a man who would shortly be wrist-deep in his vital circuits, Ratchet wandered off to see what else was happening in the hospital.  Though days were often slow, there was the occasional interesting injury or skill-testing surgery.  Anything, really, to take his mind of the incredibly frustrating actions of civilians when they entered the medical establishment.

     Grimlock would have given anything to be able to just slip out for a few minutes.  He had returned to the Council chambers, which had been adopted as the home of the Autobot Council for now, to find the Dreadnought captain waiting, not quite patiently, on a comm line.  Fortunately, Wheeljack had been waiting outside the building for him.  Ever since the Decepticons had broken away, the political efforts of Autobots in Polyhex and Viridia had been ineffectual, and eventually, the political crews in both cities had elected to return here until it was over.  Thus, Silverbolt and Wheeljack, two competent administrators, had been left without any purpose.  Wheeljack had chosen to join the Council, and was now serving as Grimlocks aide while Optimus was incapacitated.

     Grimlock had been extremely grateful that Wheeljack was there.  Otherwise, it was entirely possible that he would have wandered into a confrontation with the human that would have accomplished nothing more than to strain diplomatic relations with yet another group.  And that was something the Autobots did not need now.

     “Greetings Captain, I am Grimlock, Council member of Cybertron.” Grimlock said.  It was probably unnecessary, as he was reasonably sure that the Hegemony briefed its Dreadnought captains, at least, on the heads of state of other nations.  “What your purpose here?”

     The captain was male, in his mid-forties but still in decent shape.  He had thinning gray hair, a pencil-thin mustache, and piercing blue eyes.  “Greetings, Councilman Grimlock.  I am Rear Admiral Morrow, of the Terran Hegemony.  As a representative of that government, I formally request that you turn over the Decepticon criminals responsible for the unwarranted destruction of the Infinity, the Einstein, and the Hook.”  Morrow, it seemed, was totally sure that the Autobots would comply.  Not that he had any reason to think otherwise.  After all, the treaty between the Transformers and the Terrans had a section in it to deal with just such an occasion.  Paragraph seven, subsection 5 specifically said that, should any member of either two stellar nations commit any unwarranted act of aggression against the people or property of the other, the aggrieved nation had the right to demand the immediate extradition of the party(s) responsible.  And the Decepticons had definitely committed an act of aggression, totally unwarranted, against both people and property of the Terran Hegemony.

     “Autobot Council regret it not that simple.” Grimlock responded.  “Record not show which Decepticons involved, so we cannot know who to extradite.  Added to that, diplomatic conditions on Cybertron not exactly stable.” he said, and his voice clearly told Morrow just how much he wasn’t saying.  Morrow, however, didn’t seem to want to take a hint.

     “Actually Councilman, it is that simple.  Our voice analysis has yielded that the commander of that ship was the Decepticon known as Onslaught.”  The news hit Grimlock like a ton of bricks.  Those darn Combaticons were at it again.  It seemed that they were adamant about destroying any hope of peace single-handedly.  “And I am sorry to hear that you are having difficulties, but we still must demand that the Combaticon Onslaught be turned over to us.”

     “As I said, it not that simple.  Combaticons wanted criminals on Cybertron as well.  They also hiding, apparently.  No sign of them for weeks.” Grimlock responded.  This Rear Admiral was beginning to annoy him greatly.  The imperiousness of the man was intolerable.  Grimlock figured that he was used to having his orders obeyed without question in the military, and probably in civilian life as well.  Grimlock, on the other hand, was rarely willing to follow orders, and only respected the wishes of those that had proven themselves in battle.  “Now, Autobot Council more than willing to discuss…”

     “I am not interested in discussing anything.” Morrow said, cutting him off.  “I expect that the Combaticon criminal will be delivered to my flagship within a week, at the most.  After that, Hegemony troops will assist you in your search.”  The last statement was obviously a threat, and if there was one thing Grimlock couldn’t stand, it was being threatened.  Without giving Grimlock a chance to reply, Morrow cut off the comm line, leaving Grimlock staring at a black screen.

     “Aaagggghhhhh!” Grimlock bellowed, smashing his fist into the wall next to the screen.  It seemed to Grimlock that Morrow was easily the most aggravating human he had ever come into contact with, including the Transformer-hating Circuit Breaker.  She, at least, had been something he could deal with, a force against which he could fight, albeit not well.  Morrow, on the other hand, was just another human doing his job, although he seemed to be doing it in the most annoying way possible.

     This, Grimlock decided, was one of those times when he could really have used Optimus.

     Aboard the Dreadnought Unceasing Vigilance, Rear Admiral Morrow sat in his command chair, watching as Cybertron turned beneath him.  In one hand, he held a small data pad which displayed the normal reports made in the course of a ships journey, and in the other, a mug of coffee.  It was the only indulgence he allowed his crew to see, and the only thing that told them he was human after all.

     According to the latest reports he had gotten from Earth on the political situation on Cybertron, tensions had been growing, but a settlement could still be reached.  Once again, the bureaucracy proved woefully slow.  It seemed the Decepticons had removed themselves from amongst the Autobots, taking several of the cities as their own and establishing their own government.  Which gave Morrow an idea.

     “Lieutenant Redburn, contact whatever the Decepticons have assigned as their leaders.” Morrow ordered.  As usual, his staff knew that failure was not an option.  Morrow felt that he could do anything, and that his crew should be able to do it as well.  And if they were unable to meet his standards, then they were obviously part of the wrong crew.

     Sipping his coffee, he looked over the other reports from Earth.  These were probably equally out of date, but would give him some idea of what was happening in the galaxy.  The Transformers had established two more colonies, and Earth had established another one, which meant that is was probably more like three for the robots and two for Earth.  Added to that, some of the newer colonies from both nations were beginning to really take hold, and it wouldn’t be long before they were self-sufficient.  Overall, it looked like a promising time for the Terran Hegemony.

     “Sir.”  Morrow looked around, searching for who had interrupted his reverie.  It was Redburn, back at communications.  “I have Megatron holding on channel one.”  It seemed Redburn had proved worthy of Morrow’s faith in his abilities.

     “Very good, lieutenant.” Morrow replied.  “On the main screen, please.”  Instantly, the picture of Cybertron revolving slowly below them was replaced with the visage of the Decepticon high commander.  Megatron was famous, or rather, infamous, amongst the humans.  For a little over twenty years, that metal megalomaniac had put both human and transformer at risk, scheming and plotting to destroy both and seize control of the universe.  It was still difficult to get used to them being on the same side.

     “What is it that you want, Earthling?” Megatron asked.  Never one for pleasantries, he was trying to cut straight to the heart of the matter.  Which suited Morrow just fine.

     “I am here as a representative of the Terran Hegemony.  In accord with paragraph 7, subsection 5 of the Terran /Human Treaty, I demand the extradition of the Decepticon Onslaught.”  If Megatron wanted blunt, he could damn well get it.

     “Impossible.” Megatron replied.  “The whereabouts of the Combaticons are not known at this moment.  Added to that, the Decepticon Empire is not in the habit of releasing its citizens to the whims of the Terran Hegemony.”  The way Megatron said it, it sounded as if the Hegemony was a band of cutthroats and bandits, playing at being respectable.  Morrow bristled at the insinuation, taking it as a personal insult.  “And we certainly will not do so without some type of concrete evidence.” he finished.

     Without responding, Morrow relayed the record recovered from the Infinity.  “There is your proof.” Morrow said.  Turning from the screen, Megatron pressed the play button on a video unit somewhere offscreen.  On the bridge, Morrow and his crew could hear, faintly, the final moments of the Infinity and her charges, heard as the bridge erupted in chaos and fire and the Decepticon Onslaught made his pronouncement.  At last, Megatron turned back to look at Morrow.

     “Bah.” he said.  “Surely you do not consider that proof.  An uncorroborated record from a damaged ship, with an unidentified speaker?  And do not forget, we Transformers are perfectly capable of changing our voices.”  Megatron paused for a moment before resuming.  “Or had you forgotten?” he asked, in a perfect imitation of Morrow himself.  At the mockery directed at him by the Decepticon leader, Morrow bristled again.  To think that this stupid machine dared to mock him, and in front of his crew at that.

     “As a duly appointed representative of the Terran Hegemony, I demand that the Combaticon Onslaught is delivered to me within the next week.  After that, I will send in armed troops to find and capture him.”  He knew it was rash, but the Rear Admiral felt he had to do something to regain his stature.

     “Any vessel which enters Decepticon space will be met with deadly force.” Megatron shot back.  “If your men value their lives, I would hope that you are not so foolhardy.”  Morrow reached for the control on his chair that would sever the connection, but Megatron beat him to it.  Morrow was left staring, as Cybertron continued to spin beneath him.  Though his self-control had reasserted itself on the surface, Morrow seethed with rage inside.  Though his crew actually didn’t care all that much, he thought that he had just been submitted to a humiliating spectacle in front of his crew, stripping away their respect.  He hadn’t, but the human mind is eminently capable of believing things that aren’t true.

     It was, most people would later agree, one of the key moments.  Morrow’s ‘humiliation’ would prove to be one of the most expensive things Megatron ever did.