Galvatron was grinning from ear to ear at Mr. Rozix’ outburst. “I wonder what Consortia Command’s gonna say about you hiring a Renegade Gobot, hm?” Mr. Rozix said nothing. Galvatron then turned to Ratchet. “And the grain?”
“It was poisoned,” reported Ratchet.
“Poisoned?” asked Optimus.
“Yep. It’s been impregnated with a virus. The virus turns nourishing foodstuffs into an inert material in the bloodstream. The more the organism eats, the more material builds up. It soon comes to a point where the organism can’t get enough nourishment to survive.”
“They starved to death,” Galvatron summed up. “In a storage compartment full of grain, they starved to death.”
“Well, Crasher?” asked Optimus.
“…I have nothing to say,” said the Crasher of that time. Optimus then brandished the Poozit in his hands and it screamed at her. “All right, I confess! I poisoned the grain! Take that thing away from me!”
“And the Poozits had nothing to do with your plan?” asked Galvatron.
“I don’t know! I never saw one before in my life and I hope I never see one of those miserable, fuzzy things again!”
“That can be arranged, Crasher!” called Cy-Kill. “Report to the Roguestar and wait for my arrival! I’ll punish you once I finished here!” Crasher vanished in a teleport beam.
“Cy-Kill, about that apology,” remarked Galvatron as he picked up a Poozit.
“Yes?”
“…You Renegades have two hours to get your ship out of Consortia territory!” He brandished his Poozit, and it screamed at Cy-Kill. Cy-Kill and Cop-Tur then vanished in a teleport beam.
“After the Renegade Roguestar left the system,” continued Delmox, “history was almost back to normal.”
“Almost?” asked Eenar.
“The matter of Optimus’ memories,” reminded Delmox. “Before I did, though, I needed to do something.”
“To Delmox Prime, the greatest Prime of her time,” said Optimus as he signed an autograph pad, “keep up the good fight, Orion Pax, AKA Optimus Prime.” He handed the pad back to Delmox. “A pity you have to do this, I would love to know what the future’s like.”
“Oh, trust me, Optimus,” assured Delmox, “no one ever forgets the name of Optimus Prime and Megatron, the Heroes of the Primacron Battles.” Optimus grinned. Delmox then took out a silver rod and activated her shades.
“Is that…necessary?”
“No, I just like Men in Black.” Optimus grinned again. She then flashed a light on the rod and Optimus’ optics went dark before he collapsed onto the floor of his quarters.
“Delmox to Enterprise,” she called on her comms. “One to return.” She vanished in a teleport beam as Megatron entered the room.
“Optimus?” he asked. He gently shook Optimus. His optics came back online, and he rubbed them.
“Must have dozed off,” he mumbled.
“Optimus, you are a creature of curious habits, but I’ve never known you to nap on the floor.”
“We got our Crasher secured and informed her of her failed assassination attempt.” Delmox was finishing her testimony. “The Great Infestation picked up a few days later and we learned how to activate the Diamond of Time by then.”
“So, you got Optimus’ autograph?” asked Ranzo.
“That’s right. Now, if you wish to put a letter of reprimand in my file for that, go ahead.” Ranzo and Eenar looked at each other before turning to Burn.
“The testimony of the crew and their ship’s logs,” said Eenar, “put the temporal incursion factor at 0.0097%, way better than the reports said.”
“So, we don’t recommend prosecuting the crew of the Enterprise,” continued Ranzo. “To be frank, if I was there, I would have done the same thing if I saw Blackarachnia.”
“Then this case is concluded, and no sentence is needed at this time,” declared Burn. He banged his gavel. “Trial adjourned.”
“Thank you, Galaxy Convoy,” said Delmox.
As they walked to the docking ports, Ranzo and Eenar spoke to Delmox. “We’ll be giving you a copy of our report within the month,” explained Ranzo. “You need to sign it and file it away.”
“But, as long as you avoid time travel,” continued Eenar, “you won’t hear from us anymore.”
“Don’t worry, I intend to give time travel a wide berth from here on out,” assured Delmox. “Thank you for understanding.”
“Thank you for your cooperation,” returned Ranzo. The two agents then shook hands with the Prime and returned to their ship. Delmox returned to the Enterprise and found everyone at their stations, sans the Nebulan Twins.
“How’d it go?” asked Annus.
“We’re cleared of wrongdoing,” replied Delmox.
“Good,” sighed Sandra. “Gobotron’s requested that we bring Crasher back for her trial.”
“Tell them we’re on our way, just need to drop off some…cargo, as it were.”
“Did you tell them about what happened?” asked Searchlight.
“They didn’t ask. …I’m open to suggestions on where to drop our cargo.”
“There’s a planet perfect for them,” reported Annus. “Just a light-year away. We beam them all down and they’ll have a new habitat.”
“Did any escape?”
“Nope, we kept the doors sealed while we were docked.”
In the cargo bay, Crasher and the Nebulan Twins were leveling their blasters at the horde of screaming Poozits! “This is YOUR fault, you know!” Mazzu growled at Crasher.
“MY fault?!” argued Crasher. “You’re the one who let a few get onboard!”
“If YOU hadn’t time-traveled and just let it go already, we wouldn’t HAVE Poozits on the ship!”
“You green-skinned morons! I ought to throttle you!”
“Arkoom! Grazin Oom! Orgtagh!” challenged Azzax. They spent the entire trip to the Poozits’ new home arguing.