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Chapter Text

Lunar 1 Moon Base - The Aftermath of The Great War

"Spread out! Search for survivors!"

The loud ringing that echoed in the young fembot's audio receptors slowly died down as she raised her helm from the floor. Trails of dust and tiny pebbles of rubble tumbled down as she did. She heard shouting, coming from one... no, multiple sources. It was muffled at first, so she couldn't decipher what they were saying. But as she slowly came to, the environment around her lost the blurring and contorted shapes to sharper, clearer images.

"Survivors? Does Ultra Magnus really think we'll find anyone here?" One voice spoke in disbelief, he hardly needed say how unlikely survivors lasting this long truly was. "This Moon Base was hit megacycles ago!"

"We didn't have time to search for survivors back then," another replied, his voice thick with dejection,. "Not with the Decepticons constantly trying to pound us into scrap, maybe more would have survived if they had at least tried to stave off their savage foes."

Those voices. . . They sounded like mechs. . .

"Decepticons?" The femme repeated quietly whilst trying to regain her perception of the confusing world around her.

Why did that word sound so familiar to her? Decepticon. . . Decepticon. . .

Then it hit her. She felt as if her processor was given an electric shock as images flashed within it. Fire burned throughout buildings and the streets, lasers and dozens of ships flew throughout the night sky, each bearing the same purple symbol.

Wait. . . I remember now!

It was a cold, unforgiving mark, borne proudly by every gleefully twisted mech and femme who had been responsible for so much death and destruction. The tales and myths surrounding it almost seemed impossible, as if entire lifetimes away from any of them. A chilling cold ran through the sluggishly flowing Energon all across her frame. No one needed to bother trying to separate fact from fiction. Those beasts made both very clear, and a painful series of realities.

There was shouting, screaming. She remembered running from something. Or someone rather. It was hard to tell with all the explosions and blaster fire. There was an explosion that shook the floor beneath her pedes. She looked up, seeing something falling straight for her, a part of a building getting absolutely obliterated. There was a crush like noise soon after. Everything went black.

Her optics flew wider at the realization. I was nearly killed by a building collapsing on top of me! She was temporarily blinded from the sunrise, the rays of the giant brightly lit star shined in her optics and she raised a servo to shield herself. Rapidly blinking, she regained her sight while she scanned the area around her. There was debris everywhere. Broken down skyscrapers, buildings, torn up roads, it was like Unicron himself came and destroyed everything in his path. As much as it pained her to do so, she slowly turned her body around to examine herself to see the extent of her injuries. Her entire frame was covered in dust and dirt, it was nearly impossible to see her paint job. She could make out a few dents along her stomach, arms, and chest plate but—thankfully— to her relief, it didn't look like there was any serious damage.

Well, for her upper frame anyway. A biting, almost nonexistent trickling down her armor called her attention to the source of her discomfort and what had apparently gotten her better than any Decepticon.

From the waist down, she was trapped under a chunk of a giant metal wall that seemed to had broken off from one of the buildings above. It didn't look too big or heavy. Maybe she could push herself free?

"Okay, here we go," she sighed.

Placing both servos upon the metal debris, she first tried pushing herself free. Her legs barely made an inch out of its prison, but by then she could begin to sense a strain of pain building up in her circuits. It crawl up her spine and feel like a thousand knives. With a defeated grunt, she halted her attempted at freedom, glancing down and peering her optics at a crack. She spotted her metal skirt covering her thighs and just beyond that she could vaguely see her legs.

Think femme, think!!

If pushing herself away wasn't going to work, maybe she should try lifting the thing off her?

"Anything?" a new voice spoke out, nearly scaring the fembot out of her armour plating.

The new voice vaguely caught her attention as she continued her escape, but not before quickly scanning the area around her one more time. Covered in rubble, it wouldn't be easy to spot someone in her current position at a first glance. You'd have to navigate through a pile of rubble to get to her location. . . If she successfully predicted where their voices were coming from that is.

"Nothing in this sector, sir," another mech replied.

"Our search parties have nearly finished scouting the base. We've found a few Cybertronians, but our medical staff fear that their wounds are too great," the new commanding voice explained.

"They won't make it back to Cybertron, sir?" a mech questioned, sounding worrisome.

"I'm afraid it's highly likely they will not survive, despite our medical team's best efforts," he replied in despair.

As the three of them coordinated with one another, the fembot attempted to lift the metal sheet off of her once more. She would be lying if she thought this thing wasn't heavier than it looked. When it appeared like she had made enough room for her to move her legs, carefully wiggled her left one. But when she moved a few inches back the sheet slipped out of her grip and slammed down on her, as a jolt of unbearable pain coursed through her circuits her upper body toppled back down to the floor in defeat.

"Agh, SLAG!" she swore.

"What was that?"

"Search the area!"

The femme felt an adrenaline rush of pure panic. They didn't hear her did they? What kind of question was that, of course they did!

Who would she be facing exactly? Decepticons? No, they couldn't be. Why would they even refer to themselves in the third person of they were? That wouldn't make any sense! But then again, a nasty little voice pushed to the forefront of her processor, Would they really give up on their prize so soon? After all, they had laid claim to the base, and would be hard pressed to release their suffocating hold any time soon?

She tried to push herself free one more time, desperately trying to get away quickly before the unknown mechs could find her. Whether or not they were friend or foe, she didn't want to find out.

She pushed up with all her might but when she tried to move her body she lost her strength and the metal plate dropped on her once more, shoving her back down to the ground. Her helm took a direct hit as her vision went a bit fuzzy, every part of her gracing the metal flooring.

Her optics peering upward, the world appeared as if it were upside down. Before she could even grasp what was happening around her, she spotted three mechs entered the area. There was a lump in her throat and her spark clenched tight against her chest plate. Were they going to hurt her?

Two of them were sturdy, decked out in white and black armour plating. They stood on either side of one larger, and possibly quite, powerful mech. This one appeared to have more armour plating than the other two, also worn down from battle as the femme could make out some scratches and chinks in the armour. He wore a navy blue and white armour plating with shoulder guards, an almost intimidating look on his faceplate and in one servo he carried a large hammer that matched his armour paint.

"It's a survivor!" one of the guards gasped.

"Please. . ." The femme coughed some dust out of her mouth, "Don't hurt me,"

The commanding mech of the trio signaled the other two to stay back as he cautiously approached the femme. "It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," he reassured before kneeling down next to her. "I mean you no harm."

The mech set his hammer down beside him, freeing his servos. He reached down and gently cupped the femme's helm in his servo, lifting her up slightly and with his free servo, brushed the dust off her faceplate. Her optics had locked on to his every move as he began making his way towards her. She flinched at first when his servos first made contact with her faceplate, but noticed that his movements had no aggression. He appeared calm, collected, and was being gentle towards her. Perhaps he wasn't a threat after all. Her optics wavered as she glanced down and noticed a symbol on the mech's chest plate. It didn't look anything like the Decepticon symbol. This one was red, with a pair of wings along the side.

Where have I seen that before?

A curt smile curled his lips and a softness lit in his blue optics. His voice was steady and calm when he spoke, "My name is Ultra Magnus and I'm going to help you through this."

The femme nodded her helm slowly, "O-Okay,"

Placing her helm back down on the floor, Ultra Magnus signaled the two sturdy twin mechs to come around the other side of the metal plate. "Any injuries?"

"It's my legs," she strained as she attempted to move them under the plate only to receive a piercing pain in response.

"I'll need your support," Ultra Magnus called out to his comrades as they quickly rushed over, kneeling across from Ultra Magnus as they gripped the other end of the metal plate. "Once this is off we need to move quickly,"

"On three," one of them nodded.

The mech counted down before the three of them pulled with all of their might and lifted the plate off her body. Ultra Magnus and one of the soldiers held it steady while the other quickly stepped away to the femme's side, wrapping his arms under her forearms and pulled her out of the rubble. "Okay, she's clear!"

The two mechs dropped the plate and were now able to get a good look at her. They almost flinched back when they lowered their optics to her legs, or rather what was left of them. It appeared the collapse had cut her legs clean in half, from below the knees, a clean snap as the medics would call it. Sparks of electricity snapped at the ends of her circuits.

"She's in shock," the soldier who pulled her free quickly realized as the other reached over to try and touch the injurious leg to get a better read out, but the sparks zapped his metal digit as he yelped in shock, his servo instantly pulling back.

"That's one way of putting it,"

"Sorry about that," She whined. While the removal of the plate relieved most of the pain she had suffered before, there was still a trace that still lingered in her circuits.

"We can take you back to our medical team who will stabilize you until we can get you to a medical center back on Cybertron," Ultra Magnus explained. "Let's roll out," 

The femme watched as Ultra Magnus and one of the soldiers transformed into their alt modes. They both turned into motorized automobiles with compact armored plating, though the commander was more bulky than the other. The remaining soldier carefully gathered her in his arms, being mindful of her legs as he lifted her from the ground. His pedes lit up a neon blue as he raced over his companions who drove on a head, keeping up with them at a fascinating speed. 

She took a moment to scan the terrain around her, now having a better vantage point. The aftermath was absolute horror. It was nothing sort of a war zone. Glimpse of her life here flashed into her processor like little spurts. She realized she must have taken a hit to the head. Why was she forgetting? 

Those Decepticons. . . She curled her metal digits into a fist. It's because of them and their attack that she can no longer remember these things. Precious memories, broken and shattered. 

She looked up a head to see a giant space ship just off in the outskirts of the battlefield. It was a dark navy blue and white, with the same red symbol along the hull of the ship that was on Ultra Magnus' chest plate, and the soldiers as well. 

That's the same symbol as. . . wait!

Her optics flashed as a series of memories replayed through her processor. She stood on a stage, in a line with other mechs and femmes. There were more on the floor, appeared to be cheering. Another flash. Now a mech stood before her. He appeared powerful, a sort of I'm the one in charge  sort of fellow. He extended something towards her. A box, and inside was that same symbol. The Autobot insignia. 

"Bring her over here!"

The femme instantly snapped back into reality as her optics blinked rapidly, shaking her helm as she groaned softly. 

"Leg compartments are stabilized," a femme combat medic was analyzing her form as she locked strange looking bracers around the damaged ends of her legs. Instantly the shock and pain was reduced, but it still lingered. Her servos moved over to her helm, taking a hold of it gently as a tiny flashlight compartment appeared from the side of her helm, scanning her. "She may have a concussion," 

"We can examine her further once we return to the Autobot medical center in Iacon," another medic spoke, a mech, as he gently pushed her down to lay on a stretcher. 

The femme shifted her gaze over towards Ultra Magnus and the pair caught each others gaze. It was as if he was studying her. What for? Why was she so special to be receiving this much attention? Other than the fact she was a survivor in a horrible Decepticon attack. 

"What is your designation, young bot?"

She searched the data-banks of her processor, but came up empty. 

"I. . . don't have one, sir," The femme reluctantly shook her helm.

"You don't?" He repeated.

"No, I remember. . . "

What do I remember?

"I remember I was partaking in my academy's graduation ceremony and my title was going to be presented to me there, but. . ." She recalled before huffing in frustration.

"The Decepticon attack," he finished.

"I'm sorry, my memory core is feeling. . . spotty," I apologized as a pulse of brain erupted throughout her helm. 

"It's most likely the concussion. Whatever hit her caused damage to her processor," The femme medibot speculated. 

"We can continue monitoring her and assisting her recovery back on Iacon, sir," the other medic exchanged glances with his commander. "There isn't much we can do for her here," 

Ultra Magnus reverted his gaze back towards the femme. His intense stare returned as he studied her once more. "Do you at least have an ID number?"

That rang a bell. The femme glanced down at her forearms, her servos tracing the armour plating there until she touched and activated a switch. A holographic screen projected itself before her. ID: ORA-3578 

"Ora-3578," the female medibot repeated. 

Ultra Magnus scanned the ID and within moments, tapped the end of his hammer against the ground, signalling the Autobots before him. "Autobots, let's pack up and escort our young patient back to Cybertron. Set a course for Fortress Maximus," 

"Fort Max?!" The mech doctor yelped. 

"Are you sure, sir?" one of his bodyguards questioned. 

"I'd like to keep ORA under my watch for the time being. I'm not sure what it is, but something isn't sitting right with me about all of this," he explained before returning his gaze towards her, his optics softening slightly. "With your permission?"

The femme's optics clicked as ORA realized he was talking to her. Take her back to Cybertron, and Fortress Maximus of all places, with him? Looking around, there wasn't really much else that she could turn to for shelter. There was also the possibility of the Decepticons coming back. 

"If you believe it's best," She responded, slowly nodding her helm in agreement. "I'll go with you," 

Everyone moved quickly as they boarded the ship, packing up any supplies they had brought with them as the medibots escorted ORA to the medical wing of the ship. She could hear the engines roar to life as she was moved from the stretcher to sit upon a medical bed. The mech reach out and handed her a data pad. 

"We just need you to confirm your ID and name for us for the medical records, please," he stated. "Make any changes if you deem so," 

ORA took the data pad and went over the information. When she came to her name, there was something that sparked in the back of her damaged processor. There was something about how her name was written. It wasn't sitting well with her. 

Tapping the screen to activate the keypad, she erased the original spelling of her name and re imagined it. Her optics scanned over it, a wave of satisfaction washing over her body. She tapped confirm and the form turned green. 

From this day fourth, she'd be known as Aura. 

Chapter Text

She remembered the crowd. The cheers, the chanting. Colourful lights filled the air as Aura, though in this case was ORA-3578 stood on stage, single file in a line with other mechs and femmes standing at attention, though proud smiles and smirks showed on their lips as they looked onto the crowd. Their graduation ceremony.

The headmaster of the famous academy stationed on Lunar-1 gave a speech to the crowd. He was a tall and thin Cybertronian with crimson paint along their build with golden racing stripes along his torso and lower legs, the wheels of his alt mode disguised as his heels. He loves to use those to skate around the walls. He prefers that compared to walking, even his own alt mode. A sort of strange one. We called him StarSweeper.

Before he was headmaster of this school, he was once a famous racer, considered one of the best. He had always said as much as he enjoyed racing he considered it a hobby, a favourite past time. Teaching was considered his primary career path. He outlined their schools achievements and highlights and made sure to praise each member of their graduating class.

"Now, I think our graduates have waited long enough," he spoke out to the crowd.

The femme's helm snapped back to attention as the headmaster waved over to an associate of his. A femme came up on stage carrying a box. Opening the lid, inside contained ten identical copies of an insignia. The same red insignia Aura had seen on Ultra Magnus' chest, as well as his guards and the medibots, and plastered on the wing of his ship.

The Autobot insignia.

"I am pleased to officially recognize these young Cybertronians achievements and welcome them with open arms into the Autobot ranks," The headmaster proclaimed.

Aura watched as one by one her fellow students went up front to be presented their Autobot badge, their right of passage. She could feel her spark pounding inside her chest, lifting her servo over her torso to feel its vibrations. She had been training for this moment for almost all her life. Of all the times to be nervous, why now?

The brand placed along their chests, neck plates, and shoulders, they were also all given a designation. An official name they'd be assigned to permanently.

Influx, Wildbeam, Dynamo, Volley, Cascade, Ember, Trident, Comet, and Melody.

The closer down the line they went, the harder her spark pounded. It was as if the sounds around her were fading out and the pounding of her spark took over her audio receptors.

"Last but certainly not least, ORA-3578,"

Hearing her ID number seemed to steer away the fear that coursed through her nerves, at least for the moment. She slowly began her walk towards the front centre of the stage towards StarSweeper, glancing over to the silent smiles and cheers of her peers. ORA stood before the headmaster, saluting him in greeting. "Sir,"

"Please kneel," he commanded. The femme knelt down to one knee, pulling her neck back to star up her teacher. "ORA-3578, I am so proud of what you have become. One of the top students in your class, you've set a fine example for future generations. I now present you with your well deserved Autobot brand, and new designation,"

The femme watched with sparkling optics as his associate stepped closer, extending the box towards him. Taking the last badge out of the box, he pulled it over and held it in front of his chestplate. He slowly extended it towards her neck.

"From this day forth, you shall be known as--"

The surface below them shook. Everyone on stage wobbled as ORA nearly toppled over. The Autobot badge fell out of StarSweepers grasp and onto the stage floor. A crackle like sound caught her audio receptors, a loud one at that. She whipped around and looked off into the distance. It was as if her pedes locked in place, no, her entire frame.

There was an explosion. Smoke and fire engulfed a building as it toppled over to its side. Screams and cries could be heard from the crowd. How? How could this have happened?

Emerging from the smoke, ORA peered her eyes to see fliers in the sky. Sleek jets with dark colours. One of them let go of a missile. It soared through the air, heading straight the ceremony floor.

ORA's digital pupils shrank as she turned around and sprang up, "EVERYBODY, RUN-!!!"

Impact.

And then, Aura woke up.

********

Her optics shot open as she sat up from her berth. Her vision was dizzy from sitting up so quickly as an ache corrupted her processor. Aura rose her servo to her helm, growling as she shook it slowly. 

The nightmare again. 

It had been just over six orbital cycles since Ultra Magnus had taken her under his wing. She was brought to Fortress Maximus' hospital centre where she was operated on and worked through her recovery. After that, she was transferred and relocated to The Metroplex, the Autobots main Headquarters and provided with her own private living quarters. 

Pulling her servo away from her helm, she looked down at her new refurbished legs. They didn't look any different from her old legs, at least from what she could remember. At a glance you couldn't tell that they were new. But Aura reminded herself that when her metal digits brushed down the metal plating. No scratches or scraps of any kind. 

Her memory of attending her old academy was still incredibly foggy, but she remembered that horrible time clear as day. The medibots described it as a cause of amnesia. It was unclear if she would ever remember her time on Lunar-1 again. They suggested to let her memory come back naturally, worried about the possible heavy toll on her processor if she were to be fed so much information at once. 

Sometimes she'd curse herself for not remembering, and wish she could right here and now. But she can't. She wished someone could just tell her now, but hey, where was the fun in that? No big surprise. 

The nightmare of that day would return every so often. This was its first resurface in the last deca-cycle. Her medic would reassure her that she was indeed getting better. A strange, grumpy Autobot, but he was always good to her. She prayed to Primus that she truly was getting better. Certain things were more clearer than previous viewings. She wished she could believe that tonight. 

Aura looked over at the time. 4:30am. She laid back down with a sigh and closed her optics, attempting to go back into recharge. She tossed and turned, seeing flashing images of the attack as well as its aftermath when Ultra Magnus found her. 

"Slag it," she cursed with a vent, sitting back up as she pulled herself off the berth. 

It was clear she wasn't going back into recharge tonight. She'd have to find something to do to keep her busy until all of Cybertron would actually wake up. Brushing the grogginess out of her optics, she sluggishly made her way out of her room and maneuvered herself through the halls of the living complex of Metroplex. It was a long shot, but she may know one mech who would be up by this hour. 

She stopped in front of his door, knocking against it. Waiting a couple seconds, she knocked again as a voice echoed through the other end of the door. A mech groaned, as if forcing himself awake. Within moments the door opened, sliding to the side as the mech emerged at the doorway. 

"You do know what time it is, right?" He grumbled, leaning against the archway. 

"Morning to you too, Hot Rod," Aura smirked in response. 

Hot Rod was the same height as her, though upon closer inspection you could guess he had inches more on her. Decked out in a dark magenta brown with orange forearms, blue optics and a grey faceplate, wore an orange collar around his neck with matching colored fang like horns on the front of his headpiece. The wheels of his alt mode hanged on his hips and he had a bright burst of flames painted on his chest, with the Autobot insignia embedded over top. 

 Hot Rod was considered a prodigy in his boot camp and after blessings given by Ultra Magnus, Sargent Kup, his drill sergeant moved him up into the Autobot Academy. The Academy was Cybertron's highest ranking school where some of the best of the best trained to become future members of Cybertron's Elite Guard who would serve as vital cogs in the Autobot machine, commanding directly from Ultra Magnus himself and the High Council. 

With his surprise attendance, is room at the academy wasn't quite ready yet, and was offered to stay in Metroplex until further notice. It was then that the pair became acquaintances, and would often spend time together when neither of them were busy with their own affairs.  In some causes those times would be like right now, in the middle of the night before day break. 

"What are you doing up?" He asked, "If Ratchet finds out you're up late again he'll go nagging to Ultra Magnus," 

"Couldn't slip back into recharge," the femme answered, her servos tied behind her back as she crossed her pedes, her aqua blue paint blending well with the dark navy walls. 

The high ranking mech watched her for a moment before he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Was it the nightmare?"

Aura nodded in response, not saying a word.

"Do you remember anything new?" He asked, raising an optic ridge.

She stayed silent only this time shrugging her shoulders. 

"So the usual then?" He offered with a soft yet defeated smile. 

"I'll treat you to Maccadam's after before you have to go to class," Aura quickly added, spinning on her heels as she twirled in place. 

"I'll hold you to that," he grinned as Hot Road leaned away from the doorway, stepping back into his room. "Meet me at the training grounds in a cycle," 

"You got it, choosen one," she teased in reply as she began to take her leave. 

Hot Rod poked his helm out of the doorway, glaring at her. "Who told you that?"

"What can I say? I hear things," she retorted, firing finger guns at him. 

Hot Rod couldn't help but laugh in response as he waved her off. "Just go, I'll meet you there," 

Finally taking her leave, Aura made her way through the halls and exited the dormitories, crossing over to the training grounds that overlooked Autobot Boot camp on end, and Autobot Academy on the other. One section of the grounds had an indoor training arena, which was the pairs normal destination when it came to their early morning traditions. 

Logging into the control terminal, Aura changed the settings of the room. The hard metal floor sank down and shifted into training mats. A side panel on the wall next to her opened up, revealing training weapons of all caliber. The femme walked over to the cabinet, scanning inside before finding her preferred weapon of choice, selecting two daggers. 

"Predicable as always," a voice rang. 

Aura smirked as she twirled the handle of the blade before throwing it on a curve towards the source of the voice. Hot Rod ducked down in time as the dagger avoided his helm, the blade piercing through the mat to his right. The mech appeared unfazed by the action as she slowly stood from his ninja like crouching position. 

"Quick reaction time," she complimented. 

"Your aim is also improving," he complimented in kind as he reached over and plucked the dagger from the floor. Tossing it playfully up in the air, he glanced her way. "Now for today's lesson, try and get it back," 

"Won't you need--?" Aura pointed back towards the practice bow inside the weapons cabinet. 

Hot Rod shook his helm with a hearty chuckle. "No need," He reached over to his back, pulling out a strange looking metal pole. His grip on it relaxed as he flexed it forward and the pole suddenly branched out, its shape snapping and curving and a energetic light drew a line in the back. "I've got my own," 

"You got your weapon!" Aura's metal lips formed into a proud smile as she stepped forward, unable to properly contain her excitement. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I knew how much you love surprises," he teased.

"So the usual then? Loser buys the drinks?" she wagered, twirling her remaining dagger in her right hand. 

"Loser buys the drinks," Hot Rod repeated in confirmation.

The two of them got into their starting stances, brandishing on their weapons before one another. No one moved a circuit. Their optics trained on one another as they patiently waited for either one to make the first move.

Aura leaped forward and with a wave of her servo, directed her dagger to strike down towards Hot Rod from above. 

Chapter Text

"That's the last of my reports, sir," A towering mech with drills on his shoulders and sharp horns on his head (two on either side and one curving back in the center) entered Ultra Magnus' office. His paint job clashed with a mix of turquoise and light blue with a hint of faded orange along his legs and side of his chest. 

"Thank you Dai Atlas," The commander greeted the mech as he emerged from his chair, his hammer resting against a wall as he drew closer. "Are you sure there's no way I can convince you other wise?"

The older mech chuckled at the thought, waving a free servo in the air. "You probably could if you tried, but I think I've done all that I could here," 

"You're one of the only Bots I know who's up at this 

"I don't think I'll ever find another good general like you," Magnus commended as the two shook servos with each other whilst behind handed the datapads. "Enjoy retirement old friend," 

"It's been a long time coming," He replied. "Think I'll spend some time doing some repairs to the old dojo, as a thank you to my old teacher,"

"I think Yoketron would like that very much," Ultra Magnus managed a small spark warming smile, recalling old memories of the martial art master. "Are you planning on running it yourself at some point?"

"I don't think I could ever compete with Yoketron," Dai Atlas shook his helm. "But there is one young bot that's caught my optic for the past while now. I think I'll take him in and see how he fares," 

"All the more reason to continue Yoketron's legacy," The commanding navy blue mech nodded in agreement. 

"Speaking of proteges, how is the femme from Lunar-1 faring? ORA-3578," Dai Atlas asked. "Last time I was here she was training to walk again and now I hear she's sparring with the Chosen One!"

"Aura?" Ultra Magnus dropped the name, letting it roll off his metal tongue like honey. Glancing to the side, he walked closer towards a giant window that overlooked the grounds between the two Autobot training facilities. The large garage like door to the inside training arena was open and he could just make out the clash of two familiar Cybertronians brawling it out. "Yes, she has grown up much since your last visit," 

"If she's sparring with Hot Rod then she must be," 

Dai Atlas came to Ultra Magnus' side, looking out the window with him as he scanned the grounds. After a few moments he watched as Aura and Hot Rod exited the arena. It appeared they were exchanging banter with one another, the femme playfully punching the mech's arm as he in turn shove her away. 

"Does she remember anything from before?" He finally asked, turning his gaze to the commander. 

"She doesn't remember anything from her old life on Lunar-1," Ultra Magnus answered slowly. 

"Not even her time at Caduceus Academy ?" Dai Atlas turned his body completely. 

"The only thing she can recall clear as day is her graduation ceremony," Ultra Magnus shook his head. "The day of the Decepticon attack," 

"Slagging Decepticreeps," Dai Atlas grumbled. "It was if they laid waste then disappeared like ghosts. As if they were never there," 

"I didn't want to cause panic on Cybertron if news broke out it was a Decepticon attack," Ultra Magnus sighed in great sorrow. The memory still burned deep in his processor. A fresh new attack after the war was suppose to be over. His energon that coursed through his frame boiled. 

"So its still deemed a terrible accident?" Dai Atlas questioned, looking puzzled towards the Commander. "If that's the case then Cybertron isn't aware of the Academy's secret Initiative?"

"That is correct," Ultra Magnus nodded as he began his walk back to his desk.

"Does the femme know of her involvement?" The retired general went on, his pedes trailing him. "What she's truly capable of?"

Something about the way he phrased that sentence triggered something in Ultra Magnus' processor. As if something snapped. He reached for his hammer, snatching the handle with a tight grip as he looked back towards Dai Atas. "She has a name, Atlas," Realizing the rough tone in his voice, his optics shrank a bit in regret, his helm shaking before glancing to the. "But no, she doesn't know either," 

Dai Atlas took a step back, lifting his servos for protection. "My apologies for grinding your gears there, Ultra Magnus. I didn't mean to pyre,"

"It's alright. I suppose she's grown on me of sorts," Ultra Magnus apologized as he glanced out the window once more, seeing Aura and Hot Rod leave the training grounds. The sun was just coming up now. Macadam's would be opening soon. 

"News like that can't stay quite forever," Dai Atlas cautioned. "One of these she's going to remember or go find out for herself, and then all of Cybertron could be at risk," 

"I'm aware," Ultra Magnus reminded the mech as he ventured back towards him. "I'm heading Ratchet's advice, treading carefully on this. If that time comes, then so be it. The best I can do now is to prepare her for that moment," 

"If you believe it to be best," Dai Atlas sighed. 

Ultra Magnus' confirmation was all he needed. With a curt nod of his head, Ultra Magnus showed Dai Atlas the door as together they left his office. His secretary greeted them as they walked through the lobby. The got into the private elevator used only to travel to his office, the doors closing as it slowly descended them down towards the main foyer of Metroplex. 

"But you do realize that if the Decepticons came for them all those vorns ago, they may return to finish the job," Dai Atlas spoke lowly. Even the condense walls of the elevators had audio receptors listening in. 

"You're suggesting that they may go after her?" Ultra Magnus turned a questioning gaze towards Dai Atlas. 

"I'm implying," he corrected. 

Ultra Magnus' gaze never steered away from Dai Atlas' optics until the elevator bell chimed, signalling that they had reached their destination. The elevator doors opened to reveal a more social foyer, filled with Autobots of all ranks and jobs. 

"I swore to myself that for the sake of the Autobot ranks and Cybertron's future, I'd never let that happen," He responded. "I'll deal with it Atlas. Enjoy your retirement," 

With nothing else to say, Ultra Magnus exited the elevator as the Autobots gathered in the room noticed his presence, immediately saluting to his powerful frame. Dai Atlas stepped out of the elevator and just watched as Ultra Magnus left the room with his back turned to him, transforming into his vehicle mode as he ventured into the city of Iacon. 

*******

Hot Rod was the only Cybertronian in the history of existence that Aura trusted enough to tell about her nightmares, more specifically the attack on Lunar-1. When she was first recovering she was informed that in order to avoid mass hysteria the public was told that what happened on Lunar-1 was a terrible accident, as horrible as it sounds. 

She went along with it and heeded Ultra Magnus' words, but as the steller-cycles went on, the more frequent the nightmare visited her. Almost every night for a decacycle she'd snap awake screaming. Medical Officer Ratchet tried everything he could think of to help her but the nightmare never seized. It was as if it was a virus all on its own, holding her processor captive. 

But Aura was willing to put up with the pain. If it meant protecting the populous of their innocence so the Elite could prepare for the Decepticons behind closed doors, it was worth it. Seeing sparklings and their smiling faces made it worth it. Do it for them, Aura told herself. But soon the burden was becoming harder and harder to contain, and she feared that if she didn't vent her frustrations with someone she'd burst out of fear and desperation. 

Hot Rod was her saving grace. 

"So run it by me again," he spoke softly after taking a gulp of oil. 

The pair said opposite of each other in a booth at Macadam's Oil House, considered the best pub in all of Iacon, or to some, the entire planet. Aura had barely touched her drink when they got there, despite the near exhaustion she felt after ending their training practice. Once again she was close to beating Rodimus, but he was always a step a head of her. He claims she's getting better, mapping his movements.

Who knows, if you ever enroll into the academy, we can train more together, he had offered one day. 

Yeah, but by the time I get there, I think you'll be one of the drill sergeants, choosen one, she teased back. 

"It's the same as last time," she sighed as she finally managed to take another sip of her drink. "I was about to be presented my Auto-brand when there was an explosion, a building collapsed--"

She took a moment to pause herself, making absolutely certain that no one was listening to their conversation. 

"They showed up, and then everything went black," 

"Are you sure there wasn't anything new?" he asked. "Anything that appeared more clearer than before?" 

Was there anything different? That moment played in her processor well over a dozen times. She could recite it by spark here and now on the table in front of everyone with she wanted to. But to slag with it, what's one more viewing going to hurt? 

Closing her optics, she projected the event in her mind as if it were a old historic film. Wait. Going back to the Decepticons first appearance out of the smoke of the collapsed building. One of them rendered more clearer than the others. The one in the center. 

"One of the 'Cons," she spoke quietly as she completely gained Hot Rod's attention. "I think I got a good look at them," 

"What did they look like?" He asked. 

In her mind she blocked out everything except for that one single jet. "Grey and purple paint job, orange HUD, armed with phasers and missiles," 

"Aura," Hot Rod's voice caught her attention as she finally opened her optics to lock his gaze. His optics wide, his back suddenly straightened more than his previous relaxed form. "Are you sure that's what you saw?" 

"Yes," she answered slowly with uncertainty. She was beginning to regret telling Hot Rod about her dream now. "Why, is that bad?" 

Removing a servo from his drink, he ushered her to move closer. The pair leaned in against the table, their faceplates close to each other. Other than sparring, the femme believes this is the closest she's ever been to Hot Rod before. It felt strange. 

"You just described to me the description of the Decepticon factions second in command," he stated, his optics darting left and right like lightning before lowering his voice even more as he cupped a side of his cheek. "Starscream," 

That was it. That name. It sparked something in the back of her processor. She sat there, analyzing the name as the spark burned and grew into a fire. The pupils of her optics shrank as she slipped into her own little world. 

"ROUND THEM UP!" Starscream commanded with a shout. 

The missile struck the ceremony stage, screams shouting with the explosion as bodies flew in the air and tumbled to the floor. Smoke covered the floor as more explosions could be heard in the distance. Her vision blurred as ORA-3578 shook her helm furiously, seeing lasers shot through the sky in almost all directions. 

"ORA!" a voice cried out. 

The femme turned to see a damaged yet semi-function form of one of her fellow graduates and friends, Cascade, grab her arm and helped her up. "What's happening?" she stumbled in his grasp as he pulled them both along.

"The Academy is under attack, we need to find cover,"  his mustered yellow and lime green paint was absolutely ruined, one of his legs dragged a bit as sparks blew from his ankle. "Did you see anyone else?"

"N-n-n-no," she struggled to speak as she witnessed the fighting around her. "I think we were all separated from the blast," 

He pulled her along to the side of a building, some pieces of debris from the explosion formed a small encloser as he ushered her to hide inside. "Stay there, I'm gonna circle around and see if I can find anyone else. I'll come back for you, just stay put!" 

"Cascade, wait!" ORA reached her arm out for him but within a flash he was gone. He ran out into the frey and vanished in the smoke. 

Another explosion rocked the floor beneath her as she crouched, servos covering her helm as she braced herself. The shaking stopped as she trembled up slowly. A voice suddenly cried out, sounding like they were in pain. It was a femme. 

"Aaaaaaaahhh!" 

She knew that voice. 

"Melody!" 

Half of her being was telling her to stay and wait for Cascade, but the other part of her completely took over as her instincts pushed her to crawl out of hiding and run towards the source of the scream. Running, climbing and jumping across debris and other obsticals, she finally found her friend. 

ORA froze dead in her pedes. Melody was being held up in the air by her throat. A chilling, powerful servo locked his metal digits around it, squeezing as he frame coated with energon. 

"It's simple really," he spoke as a chill crawled up ORA's spine as she helplessly watched. "Just tell me where the rest of your friends are, and I'll make the pain. . . stop," 

Melody sobbed as lubricant streaked down her cheeks. "No! I won't--!" 

"Have it your way," he purred as his grip on her throat tightened. 

She could hear her voice box creaking and wheezing from where she stood. ORA's servo lowered to her lower leg, plucking a dagger from his holster on her right side before reaching for the one on the opposite end. That same fire snapped in her processor as her optics burned and with one fell swing, she tossed a dagger as the blade pierced into Starscream's right shoulder, the arm he used to hostage her friend. 

He grunted from the pain as he was forced to drop Melody to the floor. "GET AWAY FROM HER!" she shouted. 

ORA watched in horror as Starscream rose back up to his pedes slowly. He reached back with his free hand, plucking the dagger free from his wound without even a second thought as his body slowly turned to face the aqua blue femme. 

"Ah," his lips slowly formed into a sinister grin. "There you are,"

Her body froze up as the pupils of her optics shrank. The area round her became fuzzy as a flash of white light shined as she could feel her body shaking. Or rather, someone shaking her. 

"Aura!"

Aura snapped awake, pulling herself free from the vision. Her processor burned more brightly than ever before. She remembered something. Something new. Turning over, she found Hot Rod at her side, servos on her shoulders. 

"What happened?"

 It was quiet. Too quiet. Looking past the mech, there were more optics than she liked trailing the pair, wondering what was going on. But there was one set she wished she didn't meet. 

"Aura," Ultra Magnus called. 

Cybertron's commander and chief was standing before her in Macadam's of all places. Did he know she'd be here? 

"I remembered something," she spoke. 

That was all he needed to know as he motioned his head outside. "Let us continue this conversation else where,"