Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Nylen was an icy world in the middle of Autobot territory. There was little of importance on the planet, but there was a small scientific research station located near the planet’s equator. Roadbuster was one of the few guards of the station, and today he was driving along the perimeter, as usual. Like most planets these days, Nylen was quiet and had not seen action in years. Roadbuster stopped and transformed, his sensors detecting an anamoly. It was a slight thermal reading, lying just below the surface.

Roadbuster trained his sensors on the area, wondering what it was. Suddenly the ice broke and huge black hands shot up into the air. They were followed by a body that soared into the air on a bed of blue thruster fire. The machine slammed down onto the ice in front of Roadbuster, who stared at it in surprise. “Who are you?” The Autobot demanded.

The thing that had come through the ice bore resemblance to a Transformer, but it was stockier and its head was squarish with a thin slit that appeared to be an eye. It was painted dark gray and white camoflauge with its hands and feet colored black. “Prepare to meet your doom, Autobot,” the machine sneered in a deep voice. It extended its arms and Roadbuster could see long black tubes swing out along the underside of each arm. As he raised his rifle to fire, twin blue beams shot out of the tubes. The beams hit Roadbuster squarely in the chest and he staggered backwards. He fired a shot from his rifle that struck the enemy in the left shoulder. It didn’t even flinch and parts of its chest opened up. A swarm of missiles streaked towards Roadbuster and impacted up and down his body. He screamed in pain and smashed into the ground.

He tried to activate his comlink, but it was damaged. He sat up and saw the enemy machine approaching. Seeing him start to recover it broke into a run, heavy feet cracking the ice with every step. He fired shot after shot into it, peeling off some of its armor. Then it reached him and batted away his rifle. It grabbed him by the neck and hefted him to his feet. It was only then that Roadbuster could see through its eye and see a human inside the head. “Why?” He choked out.

“Your race will soon be eliminated. But you will not live to see that day,” the machine retorted. Roadbuster could see one of the tubes light up with blue light and then he was blinded from it. His world quickly went black and the remains of his head sliced into the ice.

“You took some damage this time,” Simon James said.

“It is minor. The new armor on this is fantastic. His shots were highly ineffective. And the extra maneuverability is much better,” Celia Marshall replied.

“Yes, I learned a lot from that dead Autobot. I think this will make Hoover very happy.”

“We should tell Koromi to begin production at once.”

“I agree. Bring that carcass back to the ship and let’s get out of here. By the way, don’t you think your entrance was a little overdramatic?”

“I always like to make a big entrance,” Marshall joked as she loped towards the waiting ship, Roadbuster’s corpse clutched tightly in her hands. Now the League had a near-perfect weapon with which to destroy the Transformers once and for all.

***

Optimus Prime’s office was a barren as an empty cargo hold, Kup noticed as he sat in Prime’s office and waited for him to arrive. Optimus had never been one for decoration, so his office featured only a pair of uncomfortable chairs, a utilitarian desk, and four bare, gray walls. The large window behind the desk did give a splendid view of Iacon at night, though, Kup noticed.

The door opened and Optimus stepped inside. “Sorry I’m late,” he said in apology.

“It’s not your fault. I called for this emergency meeting,” Kup replied.

Optimus sat down and looked worriedly at the security officer. “So why did you ask to meet with me?”

“I’ve got a dispatch from Nylen, an iceball in the Delcrom system that houses a small research station. Roadbuster was out on patrol and didn’t report in. Beachcomber swept the area and found fragments of Roadbuster’s head and massive cracks in the ice surface.”

“I see. So this attack is similar to the one on Hreda Prime, on this time there was obviously a struggle,” Optimus deduced.

“Yes, sir. The thing is that the Delcrom system is in the middle of our territory, not on the borders like Hreda. Whoever launched this attack has obviously found a way to breach all of our security protocols.”

“This is very distrubing news indeed. What is your theory about this?”

“I think it may be some kind of new threat, testing our defenses. We may be facing some kind of invasion soon.”

“Or perhaps it is a renewed Decepticon or rogue Autobot offensive. What can we do to remedy the situation?”

“There’s not much we can do. Our forces are fully deployed, with just a couple of reserves left over here on Cybertron. Leaving our colonies undefended and pulling back here would render them easy prey for any kind of new enemy, so I would suggest we wait and see what their intentions are and react then.”

“Hmm, I don’t like the sound of this. When Override was killed we were all in agreement that something had to be done, but now you are suggesting we sit on our thumbs when one of our comrades has been savagely destroyed?”

“I’m afraid that’s all we can do. When Override was murdered we took the necessary steps to make sure it couldn’t happen again. Even with Roadbuster’s death there is nothing more we can do. Our troops are deployed, our allies are aiding us, all worlds are on alert. And while I’d like to take out a fleet and comb this galaxy to find the killer or killers, it wouldn’t do any good, except to shake up our colonies and allies.”

Optimus leaned back in his chair a little, deep in thought. “Yes, I understand. Things are not like they used to be. During the war we knew who the enemy was and where they were hiding. Now we face a foe of unknown intentions and firepower. All we can do is to see what they do next and hope that no more of comrades are slain. Keep all forces on alert and let me know the second anything significant happens.”

“Right. I guess now you can go back to that oil bath, huh?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll be in touch.” Optimus quickly left his office and Kup watched him go in concern. He knew that Optimus was older and wiser than even he was, but that didn’t ease his fears any. Walking the streets of Cybertron was usually a safe thing these days, but a Decepticon or rogue Autobot could appear at any moment to blow Optimus to scrap while he was alone.

He activated his comlink and said, “Nighthawk, this is Kup, respond please.”

Cruising high above Iacon was a black fighter modeled after a human X-29 fighter. It had been modified so that it was nearly invisible to any form of detection. “This is Nighthawk,” came the raspy reply. “What is my mission?”

“Optimus is out wandering around by himself. Follow him and keep him out of harm’s way. And make sure no one spots you.”

“Understood.” The fighter dropped some altitude and Nighthawk picked up her sensors. She detected Optimus Prime and could see him walking through Memorial Park alone. She dove in closer, deciding it best to follow him on foot. She glided down and transformed into a black and midnight blue robot. She hid behind a tree and saw Optimus come to a stop on the bridge of the park.

Memorial Park had been created by human engineers, using soil, foliage, and water from Earth. It was designed to remind Cybertronians of all who had died to protect the human race from the Decepticon threat. The trees, flowers, and grass were carefully maintained by a team of human gardeners so that they remained alive. Nighthawk slipped into the park and positioned herself behind a tree. Her black and blue coloration made it nearly impossible to see her at night, which would help her keep an eye on Optimus without his knowing it.

She saw Optimus staring into the water of the small stream running through the park, seeming oblivious to all else. That is tactically unwise, she thought. Even with our victory, evil still lurks. “The price of freedom is eternal vigilence,” a human leader had once said. Someone as old and wise as Optimus Prime should already know this. She was surprised when Optimus turned in her direction and called out, “Come here, Nighthawk.”

She stepped out from behind the tree and went over to the bridge. “How did you know I was there?” She asked in her gravelly voice.

“I knew Kup would send someone to babysit me. I just guessed that it was you, since you are Kup’s best agent.” Nighthawk stared at him and nodded her head, looking down at the water. “Roadbuster, a friend and comrade, was killed today and there is nothing I can do about it.”

“Death is a part of war,” Nighthawk replied.

“We aren’t at war anymore, that’s the problem. If this were a war I would know who to blame, who to get revenge upon. Now, though, I don’t know who the enemy really is. Despite all of the bloodshed and horror of war, there are some positives.”

He turned to Nighthawk to see if she would make any reply. She grunted a thoughtful affirmative, her eyes fixed upon the water. Optimus had not expected her to say anything, that wasn’t her style. “All during the war I knew that I would lead the Autobots to peace or die trying. Now, that we have peace, I’m not sure what to do. I’ve lived over six million years, but I can only vaguely remember what peace was like. So many Autobots and humans have grown up without ever having experienced peace, and now they finally have it. The Matrix told me all during the war that I would lead the Autobots to peace. Perhaps a new leader is now needed to lead the Autobots in peace.”

Nighthawk looked up at Optimus and could see the sadness in his eyes. “I don’t think I am the one you want to talk to about this.”

Optimus nodded thoughtfully and replied, “I think you’re the perfect one to talk to about this. You know all about what it is like to spend your whole life at war. Tell me, how do you spend your days now?”

“I fly patrols over Cybertron, making sure that there is no dangerous activities.”

“And how many times in the past eight years have you seen any action?”

“Three.”

“Three times in eight years. It’s hardly worth the effort, except that you and I are warriors, we are ill-suited for peace. Ever since the war started I had wanted to bring peace back to Cybertron. I have done that, but I can never bring peace to my soul. I think you of all Autobots can feel how I do.”

Nighthawk nodded. “Then perhaps you should resign and pass the Matrix on to another. Prowl, Jazz, Kup, or Jetfire are all perfect candidates for leadership.”

Optimus straightened, not expected that from Nighthawk. She was usually so withdrawn from the other Autobots that he did not expect her to have such insight into the Autobot command structure. He looked down at her, deep in thought. There was wisdom to what she said. “You have given me a lot to think about, Nighthawk. Follow me back to my quarters and then your assignment will be complete.”

“Yes, sir.” Optimus slowly walked the path out of Memorial Park, Nighthawk following a step behind. Once they had left the park they transformed, Optimus driving along the road that wound its way up to where his quarters were and Nighthawk following him from the air.

Optimus was immersed in thought, driving the familar path on instinct. He thought about Nighthawk and sadness ran through him. She was one of the many Autobots thrown into the maw of war at birth, so that it had consumed her and become her life. Now she was a soldier without a war, unsure of what to do. Optimus knew many Autobots were like that and remembered long ago when his people had been peace-loving. Back then few Autobots had any use for weapons, but now everyone carried a weapon of some sort. Now that the war was over it was time to make things right, to make the Autobots and all Cybertronians truly peace-loving once more. He thought of Nighthawk again and thought, let her be the last.

***

Chandler heard a buzzer sound and groggily grabbed his comlink from the nightstand. He hadn’t served on a starship in six years and noted that his reflexes had been slowing down. He activated the comlink and heard the voice of his Chief of Staff, Margaret Cummings. “Sir, I think you should turn on your holoprojector.”

“What’s going on?” Chandler asked. He got up and walked over to the projector in one corner of the room.

“Sources on Cybertron say that Optimus Prime is making a major policy change. It could have a lot of implications for us.”

“All right. I’ll call you back in a few minutes.” Chandler saw an image of Optimus Prime sitting in his office on Iacon. Chandler sat down on his bed to see what the announcement was about.

“My fellow Cybertronians, the war is over. After over four million years of fighting, the Decepticons have been defeated and peace has been restored. After eight years with little Decepticon activity I am convinced that they are no longer a threat.”

“This being said, I have decided that it is time for me to step down as commander of the Autobot forces and leader of the United Cybertronian Government. I do not take this action lightly, but after a lot of thought. It is with deep sadness that I make this announcment, but I think it best for all Cybertronians.”

“When I took command of the Autobot forces over four million years ago, I knew that my goal would be to defeat the Decepticons and bring peace back to Cybertron. Later, as the war spread, I knew that the Decepticons would have to be eliminated as a fighting force and forced to accept peace so that all known worlds could be free.”

“Now that the war is over, I have decided that my time is over. Peace has reached all corners of known space and I am convinced that it will continue for a long time to come. I have led the Autobots to peace, but the time has come for someone else to lead the Autobots in peace.”

“Six months from now an election will be held on Cybertron and all colonies and outposts to determine the new Autobot commander and leader of the United Cybertronian Government. Candidates will have until three months from the election to come forward. Until the elections are held, I have placed Prowl in command of all Autobot forces and Jazz as leader of the United Cybertronian Government. They are both qualified leaders and will be more than capable of running things until new leaders are chosen. Do not grieve for myself, though. I have been honored to have led the Autobot cause to peace and to serve with all under my command. I have also been blessed by Primus to have such courageous allies as our human friends, but my time is over. A new age has dawned on Cybertron and all other parts of known space. This is not a tme for sorrow but celebration. May the spirit of Primus protect you.” The image faded and Chandler sat on his bed in shock.

He activated the comlink and called Cummings. “Did you see that?” She asked.

“I did. It came as quite a surprise.”

“You mean he didn’t even consult with you? We are their allies, we should have been told about something like this!”

“If I know Optimus, he probably didn’t know exactly what he was going to do until a few minutes before the speech. He cares deeply about us as well as the Cybertronians he leads, but I think he wanted his own people to find out first. It is his right. Besides, Prowl and Jazz are both very capable and will follow his example. We have nothing to fear.”

“The press is going to demand a response from you about this, sir.”

“I know. Just tell them that I’m happy for Optimus and that I hope he finally finds the peace within himself that he has sought for Cybertron and Earth.”

“They’ll want more than that. This is a major change, sir, it warrants more of a reaction.”

“If Optimus wants to step down that is his right. The fact that he’s opened up free elections is great for all Cybertronians. It symbolizes that the militarism of their government is starting to fade. How’s that?”

“It should give them enough to chew on. Should I run interference for you?”

“Yes. Make a public statement and tell the press that I’m flying out to Cybertron to meet with the new leaders.”

“Yes, sir.” The comlink went dead and Chandler called Captain Hunter to have the Prometheus readied to transport him.

***

In a distant corner of space, another leader was watching the broadcast. Omitron sat on a large hoverchair, taking in Optimus’s speech. It was surprising that the Autobot leader would step down, but it would be to her advantage. Prowl and Jazz were both good warriors and leaders, but they could not best her, nor could they avert the split between Cybertron and Earth. Excellent, she thought to herself. The time is almost here.

A light flashed on the right armrest of the chair and she tapped a button. The holoprojector that had been showing Prime’s speech showed what the space scanners had detected: an aircraft was approaching. She quickly scanned it to identify it and smiled when she saw it was a Decepticon craft. Finally, she thought. She turned to a large vault in one corner of the room, where her shell was being kept in cryogenic stasis. Since the aircraft was a Decepticon she would not need it. She punched a few keys on the left armrest and the hoverchair landed on the floor of the room. She got out and transformed into a black jet with purple trim. A hatch opened and she shot into the air, going to meet with her surprise guest.

After months of travel, Misfire had finally reached the coordinates he had been given. His afterburners were nearly worn out and he was in desperate need of fuel. They’d better have some energon here, he thought as he scanned the planet for life.

Life was rich on the planet below. The climate was mostly dense jungle, with some tundra near the polar ice caps and four major continents with oceans separating them. There was a lot of biological lifeforms, none seemed intelligent. Misfire’s sensors weren’t picking up any sparks on the surface or any technology. This doesn’t make any sense, he thought. Suddenly his sensors told him that something was approaching, fast.

It was a jet unlike anything he had ever seen. Its nose was curved and nearly flat, with a small, clear ridge for a canopy. The nose was long and widened into the rear of the jet. The wings seemed to be part of the fuselage itself and there were only two long bumps for tailfins. Its radar and heat profiles were virtually nonexistant, and the only reason he had detected it was from its metal content. The odd thing was that the metal content wasn’t consistent with the size of the fighter. This is weird, he thought.

“Misfire, I’m glad you could make it,” the fighter called out and aligned itself on his right wing. “Welcome to Kortex.”

“Who are you? Is Megatron alive?” Misfire asked. The fighter had a female voie, but Misfire had thought all female Decepticons were killed or captured already.

“I am Omitron. I will answer all of your questions once we have landed. Follow me,” Omitron took the lead and Misfire wondered where she was taking him. They entered the atmosphere and Misfire felt his superstructure begin to heat up at an alarming rate. Omitron, for her part, seemed to barely pick up any heat. “The atmosphere is quite dense. It shouldn’t damage you very much.”

Very much? He was already damaged from years of functioning without an oil bath or visit to the repair bay, he wasn’t sure how much he could take. The heat continued to rise and Misfire knew that soon his wings were going to turn to molten slag. Seconds before this thought became true, a cool wind blew over his body and he realized that he had broken through the atmosphere. He ran a diagnostic and determined that while he had taken some heat damage, his systems were still functioning.

He followed Omitron towards the planet’s smallest continent in the eastern hemisphere. He lost her in a mist for a moment, but managed to catch sight of her once he had broken through it. He pulled up just in time to avoid the uppermost canopy of trees and followed Omitron, who was just gliding above the foliage. He saw her suddenly disappear into the trees and slowed down, wondering where she had gone. Then he saw a small clearing in the canopy and descending carefully into it. As soon as he was clear of it, the canopy reappeared, a holographic illusion.

He expected to see a base, but instead only saw trees, vines, and other foliage. He wondered where Omitron was and then she said over his comlink, “Land right between the two big, black trees.” Misfire saw what she meant and eased over there. He cleared the trees , but still saw nothing. He extended his landing gear and hoped for the best as he descended. To his surprise he came to a stop on something solid. He cut his engines and transformed, the screeching and grating sending a flock of colorful birds clawing into the sky.

Omitron came out from one of the trees in robot mode. Misfire stared at her strangely for a moment, suddenly remembering that he had not even seen a female Decepticon in twelve years. She came closer and he could tell that she was several feet taller than he was. Her body was sleek and sexy, reminding Misfire of how long it had been since he had done anything more than see a female Decepticon. He forced down those thoughts and asked, “Which other Decepticons are here? When do we begin our attack?”

Omitron smiled and replied, “There are no other Decepticons here, yet.”

“What? Soundwave sent the message, isn’t he here?”

“Soundwave is on a mission for me.”

“So Megatron isn’t here.” Misfire felt as if all of his remaining fluids had been sucked out. What was this female up to?

“Megatron is dead. I made certain to check after the Battle of Centauri. We have important business to attend to. Follow me.” Omi led him through the jungle in corridors that were clear like the hangar. The corridor led to a massive old tree and inside of the tree itself. Once inside, Misfire saw a massive base. He was standing on a catwalk about halfway down the trunk of the tree, and looking down below he could see a small landing pad and a tank bubbling with some kind of whitish-gray substance.

“What in the inferno is that?” Misfire asked, pointing to the tank.

“All in due time, Misfire,” Omitron explained. She pressed a button that sealed the entrance to the tree and called her hoverchair to her. She sat down and hovered just over Misfire’s head. She examined him and saw all of the nicks, scrapes, dents, and patches on his body. “You look like you’re in need of repair.”

“It’s been eight years since I’ve seen a repair bay,” Misfire replied.

“I see.”

“So do you have a repair bay? Or at least an oil bath?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Then how am I supposed to repair myself?”

“Now I can explain what that tank is and more importantly, why you are here.” She motioned for Misfire to sit at a computer terminal nearby and he complied, joints creaking as he did so. “This facility was created by me fifteen years ago. Its goal was research and develop new weapons and technologies that would help us in the war against the Autobots. In his madness as the Decepticon Empire fell, Megatron believed that we could destroy the Autobots and retake all that we had lost if we could develop some kind of secret weapon. The poor fool...”

Omitron trailed off for a moment and then continued, “Instead of trying to make some ultimate weapon, one of the first things I tried to develop was a better system of making repairs. Repair bays require a lot of time and parts, which we were running short of. So I tried to find a way around this. Unfortunately I was not able to complete the project before the end of the war, but three years later I was able to create what you see below.”

“So what is it? What’s it do?”

“It’s called a restoration tank. It uses a mixture of organic substances to regenerate damaged parts and circuitry and can even reattach limbs. It is faster and cheaper than a repair bay and will make you feel better than any oil bath.”

“That’s brilliant.”

“I know. This will be key to our campaign to destroy the Autobots. With this tank we can repair our troops faster than ever without having to worry about spare parts.”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but we don’t have any troops.”

“They will come, in time, just as you did. We must be patient. In the meantime, let’s get back to you. Are you willing to help me?”

“What do I get in return?”

“First you can take a dip in the restoration tank. Secondly, I can help you overcome your greatest problem.”

“What’s that?”

“Your inability to aim and hit targets. You have been laughed at all your life by Autobot and Decepticon alike, yes?”

Misfire looked down at the catwalk for a moment. He sighed and replied, “Yes.”

“I can help you and make it so you are not ever laughed at again.”

“How?”

“You will see. With this new ability you will be a powerful warrior. As you know, no other troops are here yet, so that gives you an advantage. How would you like to be Air Commander for the Decepticon forces?”

“Air Commander Misfire? I like the sound of that. Sign me up.”

“Excellent. Now go take that dip in the restoration tank, just be sure to put yourself off-line once you climb in.”

“Sure thing. So when do you expect others to arrive?”

Omitron smiled as she saw the light flash on the right armrest. “Oh, right about now.” She activated the holoprojector and saw an Autobot frigate coming into orbit.

“Autobots!” Misfire shouted.

“No, you fool, those are Decepticons. An Autobot frigate was stolen weeks ago. As I anticipated, the thieves intended to take it here. Go and repair yourself, I will deal with them.” She dismissed Misfire with a wave of her hand and he climbed down the series of catwalks to the tank. He straddld its sides and then eased himself in. As the gray-white goo enveloped him he took himself off-line and ordered his systems to reactivate once he was repaired. Air Commander Misfire, he thought as he went unconscious.

Bugly saw instructions scroll down his computer screen and smiled. Someone was alive donw there and they had a base. He couldn’t dock the ship at the base, but he had been instructed to leave it in orbit. “Is there an Autobot transport on board?” Bugly asked.

“Yes,” Scrapper replied.

“Good, then let’s go find out who has brought us here.” Bugly, Scrapper, and Onslaught went to the hangar of the frigate, where a small, cylinder-shaped transport waited. Bugly, being the only one who knew how to fly, took the controls and followed the instructions he had been sent. He followed the same route Misfire had taken earlier and landed the transport in the hangar. He ordered Scrapper out first and waited. Scrapper signalled that it was all right and then Bugly and Onslaught climbed out.

A black and purple figure stepped out of nowhere and stode over to them. “Bugly, Scrapper, Onslaught, I’m glad you could escape the Autobot’s tyranny and make it here. And with an Autobot frigate I might add. That is most impressive,” Omitron said.

“Who are you?” Bugly demanded.

“I am Omitron, ruler of this facility and this planet.”

“Doesn’t look like much to rule. Why have you summoned us here?”

“To bring back the glory of the Decepticon army. Follow me and I’ll explain it to you.”

She took them inside the base and sat in her chair once more, floating to the middle of the room. “As you can tell, this is a research facility for some very secret projects. No one outside of Megatron, Soundwave, and myself knew of its location.”

“Didn’t you have any assistants?” Scrapper asked as he stared at the technology around him.

“I didn’t need any assistants.”

“Why didn’t we see any of this technology in the field?” Onslaught inquired.

“Most of it wasn’t ready until after the war. You did see some of my inventions in the field, though. Upgrades in weapons, missiles, and engines came from here.”

“This is really interesting, Omitron. How do you plan to defeat the Autobots, though?” Bugly, a military strategist, asked.

“In due time, Bugly. In fact, I’d like to review my plans with you before I unveil them. I have a great need for someone of your skill.”

If it were possible, Bugly would have blushed, but his insectoid eyes did light up from the compliment. “I would be honored.”

“Good. Scrapper, why don’t you use that terminal and view the information on the projects I’m working on and Onslaught you can look around and check out the base security systems.” The two Decepticons nodded and Bugly followed Omitron back to a planning room. It was large and dominated by a holographic map of all of known space. Then Omitron began to lay out her plan. The more Bugly listened, the more he liked it.

***

Hoover finished watching the tape of Roadbuster’s demise and smiled. “Excellent work, Simon, Celia. This new machine is much better than the old one. So when can we begin production?”

Koromi fielded the question, “We are already beginning production. Within a month we will have a full platoon of these machines ready for use.”

“Excellent. Once that is done, Celia I need you to talk to some of the other generals to make sure we can get these placed into service with the Confederation forces.”

“That should be easy. Most of the generals are furious that the Autobots gave the Decepticons control of three planets,” Marshall responded.

“Good. Simon, you’ve done some great work. What are you planning next?”

“I’m currently working on a smaller, faster scout design. The Executioner model is maneuverable, but it isn’t fast. A smaller version will help us be able to fence Autobot units in,” James answered.

“How long until you could have a model ready to test?”

“A month at most, two weeks at best.”

“Then we’ll reconvene as soon as you’re finished. The time is almost at hand when humanity will finally have the weapons to drive the Transformers from Earth. Then we will destroy them and be free of their influence forever.” Hoover stood and left with Koromi and the others in tow. Once again, Marshall and James were alone in the lab.

“Another productive meeting,” James commented.

“I agree. So are you going right to work on that new model?” Marshall asked.

James looked into her eyes and smiled. “I think I have a few minutes.” They laughed and headed for Simon’s bedroom.

Marshall wasn’t really sure what she saw in James. He was arrogant and almost completely self-absorbed. As they took their clothes off she smiled tightly. Although he was smart, witty, and handsome. Besides, no matter how egotistical he was, he held many of the same beliefs that she did. Including the belief that their relationship was purely for pleasure. Neither one of them had any interest in forming a long-term relationship. She knew that James still felt too strongly for his wife killed during the occupation and she had no interest in scrapping her career to create a family. As she lay down on the bed she thought, We may have some things in common, but it would never last. As James lowered himself onto the bed he was thinking much the same thing.