Author's Note: Some of you wanted me to continue "The Way of the World"... Well, that wasn't possible without a heavy re-write of the original story. Let's just say that I'm not the same person I used to be in 1997 and the old version just isn't my style any more. :) But don't worry, the plot remains and everything will happen just as it was meant to be.

So, for those of you who read the original story: Let me know if this works for you.

Criticism and feedback is highly appreciated. Flames are also welcome, as long as you keep them directed at the story. If you just want to say the story sucks, that's fine, too... just let me know WHY you think it sucks so that I can improve.

If you flame me as a person, I'll send Wheelie after you. You have been warned. :)

Warning: English isn't my native language and this story hasn't been betaed yet. I used a spell checker but grammar isn't my strong point. Proceed at your own risk.

Copyright disclaimer: "Transformers" and its characters are a trademark of Hasbro and were used without prior permission.

Transformers: Dereliction of Duty

("The Way of the World" rewrite)

By Birgit 'Lee' Kohls (2003)

Chapter 1: Actions

Delivering urgently needed spare parts to a human research outpost on the moon should have been a simple and safe mission. At least, Optimus Prime had thought it would be simple and safe when he had sent Hot Rod and a few other Autobots to do the job.

Instead, his second-in-command was still in the repair bay, having suffered most from the Decepticon ambush they had run into at their destination. The young Autobot had caught several square hits in the chest plate while playing the bait, taking more damage than necessary so that Ultra Magnus and the others could evacuate the humans.

Of course, Optimus knew that there was always a risk of being terminated during combat, but Hot Rod had continued his dangerous strategy long after the innocents had been rescued. But this was worse; on top of risking his own destruction, Hot Rod also endangered the lives of the ones who were with him when they tried to rescue him. Fortunately, no one else sustained damage. Well, at least nothing that a paint job couldn't undue – a miracle considering the impetuous behaviour that Optimus's young protégé displayed lately. If he didn't know better, Prime had sworn that the young bot wanted to catch up with all he had missed in his time as Rodimus.

It had to stop here and now. Optimus would no longer let his second-in-command get away with reckless stunts. Face grim and determined, the Autobot leader entered the main repair bay of Autobot City, only to run into Springer and Tracks.

"How's Hot Rod?" Optimus asked neutrally.

"He'll be fine," Tracks smiled. "Looked worse than it was."

“Mmm...” Optimus rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then changed his plan. "Tell him to report to my office as soon as First Aid discharges him.”

Springer and Tracks exchanged glances. “Sure, Optimus.”

“It was a calculated risk.” Hot Rod sat on a chair in Prime's office, shoulders slumped and head bowed. He could understand why Optimus was upset. After all, Hot Rod had rolled in the tracks of the famous Autobot leader for five years too many. Rodimus, the clueless leader substitute, the wannabe-Prime had learned the price of command and had loathed the costs. It had driven him almost insane when he had to send someone on a mission, when the others endangered themselves and took risks because of something Rodimus had ordered them to do.

But Rodimus Prime had ceased to exist the moment Optimus had returned from the dead a year ago. The ever-carefree racer Hot Rod had re-emerged in his place, pretending to be the robot he had been before his little trip to the land of duties. But rather than allowing him to slip back into the shadows, Optimus instead had proclaimed Hot Rod to become his second in command. Rejecting the offer would have been an insult, and now Hot Rod was caught between a rock and a hard place with no way out, doomed to endlessly repeat his failures right under Prime’s nose.

"You call ten hours in the repair bay a calculated risk?" Optimus's optics glowed in an angry blue.

"The humans..." Hot Rod began, but was cut off briskly.

"The humans were already out of danger and the rocket would have hit an empty building. You could've been destroyed for nothing."

Hot Rod's head shot up. "If the Decepticons had succeeded with the termination of the complex, it would've thrown the human space program back at least ten years. You know that they don't have the financial resources to build a new station for some time..."

"It were only buildings, Hot Rod..." Prime pointed out with a patience he didn't feel. "You might not care much about your own existence, but you are aware that Tracks and Ultra Magnus almost got destroyed when they rescued you?”

The younger Autobot flinched, but Optimus felt no triumph over watching the hapless robot unravel. “Did you stop just for a moment to think that you were risking their lives as well?"

"I didn't ask them to rescue me!” Hot Rod snapped, a trace of bitterness in his voice. “I was doing perfectly fine without their intervention.”

“Your actions were rash and irresponsible. You endangered your team and your mission objective, Hot Rod... I made you my second-in-command because it seemed the right thing to do after the Matrix chose you to replace me," Optimus stated quietly. “Obviously, I was mistaken. ”

"Obviously, the Matrix was mistaken, too.” Hot Rod suggested, despondency lacing his voice.

His words left Optimus dumbstruck for a second. Things sure had not become easier since the war had ended, and the loss of the Matrix's knowledge wasn't helping in any way. “You seemed to do a fine job in leading the Autobots while I was gone.”

“Me? A fine job?” Hot Rod echoed, staring at him as if he had a malfunctioning logic chip. “I think you'll find quite a few Autobots who will disagree with you about that...”

“So you think you don’t even have to try to meet the requirements?” Instead of an answer, Hot Rod evaded his look. This was getting nowhere, Optimus realised with a trace of annoyance. “It won’t do, Hot Rod, not for me. I expect a better performance from now on. Did I made myself clear?”

There was a long, stubborn silence before the former Autobot leader replied. “Face it, Optimus... I'm not the right choice, and I never was… Just remove me from my position and be over with it. Make someone your second-in-command who can do the job properly."

“You are perfectly capable to do the job properly,” Optimus informed him. “Understood?”

Hot Rod nodded.

“Good. Then return to your duties.”

Hot Rod got up and left without a further word, but Prime noticed the defeat in the young bot’s demeanour. Was it disappointment about not being fired? If it had been any other Autobot, Optimus would have complied to an expressed wish of resignation. But this was different. This was still Rodimus hidden under all that Hot Rod attitude... He owed it to the kid not to give up just yet.

Back in the old days, Ironhide, Prowl or Ratchet would’ve known what to do. They’d always had a better connection to the troops than Optimus himself, had found the words that so often failed him and could say things that would destroy morale if Optimus just as much as had whispered them. Instead, he was left to fend on his own, feeling the burden of leadership lasting on his shoulders heavily. Well, he wasn’t alone, he corrected himself. But no one could replace the friends he had lost, or Elita One…

With a sigh, Optimus tried to concentrate on the daily routine that awaited him. After a short while, his thoughts drifted off again. He got up from his chair and went over to the window, staring down to the street which was bustling with life, lost in memories of times long gone.

"Look, Hot Rod... I know that the death of your Nebulon partner was hard on you, but you have to get a grip on yourself..."

Hot Rod had hoped that a day off would help to improve his mood, but instead Ultra Magnus had insisted to accompany him. He appreciated that Magnus cared enough to approach the matter, but Firebolt's tragic death in an car crash had nothing to do with the current events. Ultra Magnus handed Hot Rod a small Energon cube, but he ignored it. "Firebolt's death was an accident. There was nothing anybody could've done to prevent it. Listen, why don't you just put it to rest?"

Ultra Magnus shot Hot Rod an angry look. "No, now you'll listen, kid... You almost got us killed out there, and I want to know why. By the Matrix, it's even worse than in the time you were Rodimus!"

That stung more that Hot Rod cared to admit. “Not you too… Optimus already read me the riot act. I got the message, okay?”

"Roddy," Ultra Magnus continued after a brief pause in a fatherly tone. "You don't have to prove anything to Optimus. He knows that you did good work while he was gone and would appreciate if you'd do your duties..."

"Stop it, Ultra Magnus," Hot Rod all but shouted, drawing attention to their table. "I'm no longer Rodimus... do you copy that? Stop wasting your time on me... Better do something useful and go back to Autobot City to help Optimus sorting out the mess I caused in his absence!"

With that, he dashed for the exit, leaving behind a puzzled Ultra Magnus.

Galvatron was bored. His troops were searching for a way to replenish their low Energon supplies, after Optimus Prime had returned and cut off the old sources. But so far, they had brought back nothing. Galvatron glared at Soundwave, who patiently awaited new orders.

“Useless fool!” Galvatron screeched, blasting the faithful Decepticon out of the way. This was ridiculous! He, the mighty Galvatron, should be conquering Galaxies, not wasting his time looking for Energon in the company of incompetent idiots!

Cyclonus landed a few moments later, bringing good news for a change. "The human's created a new energy generator. With it, we'll have enough power to attack!"

Cyclonus kept his expression carefully neutral. He hoped that Galvatron, for once, would buy into his plan instead of rampaging around like a madman. Unfortunately, Cylclonus had to admit with a look at Soundwave, who slowly climbed back to his feet, their leader was a madman. Completely and utterly insane. But Cyclonus didn’t give up on his leader yet. If there was a way to restore Megatron from the madman’s mind, Cyclonus would find it.

Right now, though, the mighty Galvatron had made up his mind about the attack and Cyclonus smiled satisfied when his leader ordered: "Decepticons, prepare for battle!"

Optimus had finished the weekly press conference, answered the reporters' questions calmly and efficiently, cracking a joke from time to time, like it was expected from him. Now he was on his way to his office - there was still the never ending paperwork he had to catch up with: Requests, competitions, invitations, letters of complaint and of admiration.

Optimus heaved a sigh. Maybe he should do as Ironhide had suggested once and hire a secretary like any human boss had. But then, Ironhide had never understood that the paperwork was a line to reality for Prime. Not that Optimus had lost his touch with reality, but he was stuck so deeply in solving matters that were all-important to the Autobot society, mankind and whomever else they were involved with, that taking care of an everyday business helped to get his head cleared, reminding him that there were more things to life than fighting and destruction. When he had told this to Ironhide, his friend had grinned. "Just make sure that you get off some time to have fun..."

Well, Optimus remembered, his fond smile hidden by the face plate, they had had fun that day... stupid, childish fun, but it had helped him to shake off the weight of the world for a while. Ironhide... The smile faded. With all the power being leader of the Autobots meant, he couldn't bring back the dead - human or robot. It was the way of the world, and Optimus had to accept it, no matter how much he wished he could change the past. A knock on the door brought him back to here and now.

"Come in," Optimus said, and was very surprised when Ultra Magnus entered. "Back already? I thought you were out with Hot Rod..."

"I was," Magnus closed the door and sat down with a sigh. "Optimus, we have to talk."

"That bad?"

A brief nod was the reply. "Worse. I'm afraid, Roddy might do something real stupid..."

But before Ultra Magnus could explain any further, the alarm in Optimus' office went off. "Whatever problems he has, Magnus - it has to wait. Decepticon attack at the Energy Research Center. They are requesting our help."

Hot Rod had passed the Energy Research Center site not far away from Autobot City at the time the Decepticons began their first attack run.

"Oh swell," he muttered, knowing that many humans were working at the place. He had to do something to save them - even if that would mean facing an enemy which easily outnumbered him in number and force. “Time for another stupid Roddy stunt, I guess.”

He alarmed Autobot City, then transformed into robot mode and, knowing that he would end up scrap unless help arrived soon, flung himself between the humans and the Decepticons.

"Get the buildings evacuated!" Hot Rod yelled at the security guards, which tried to get the personnel out of danger. He could make out six Decepticons, including Galvatron, Cyclonus and Soundwave. The young Autobot set his gun on full charge and fired when the group was in range. He hit Soundwave and managed to damage his opponent's flight control system badly. The Decepticon rocketed away, unable to influence his direction or speed any longer. /One gone, five to go./

The humans that were not fleeing, cheered, but Hot Rod's victory was a short one. A blast from Galvatron sent him hurling over the ground and before he was even able to access the damage done to his systems, Cyclonus hit him in the back. Shorted and destroyed circuits made it impossible to keep up any resistance against his attackers, his knees buckled and he crashed to the ground. The last thing Hot Rod saw before another blast shorted him out was the grinning face of Galvatron.

To be continued...