Although Ratchet had said three weeks without hard labour, Mirage had gotten to work on Ultra Magnus’s ship, which they had recovered, in two. The first week consisted of Miko forcing conversations with the unmovable bot. The second week, after Miko had given up and Mirage could move, consisted of talking with Smokescreen. Apparently, Smokescreen had only arrived an orn before he did. They were both the Autobot rookies. Smokescreen spoke about his training under Alpha Trion, while Mirage could only mention what Ultra Magnus had briefly told him of his past.

“So you and Ultra Magnus used to be partners huh?” He had questioned. Mirage nodded.

“Yeah, although I’m not sure in what. I hadn’t really got to a time where I can talk to him more when he isn’t busy. I just know we were close.”

“And still are. I heard from Bulkhead you made some large dents in his ship, and he didn‘t even flinch.” Mirage mentally rolled his eyes and arose from the berth.

“Wow, easy there.” Smokescreen said, holding his arms out for in case Mirage fell.

“I’m alright. But I should get to work.” He said. Smokescreen frowned.

“What work?”

“Well, the work that’s waiting for me in Warehouse H.” He said, stretching his aching limbs, careful not to pull his back to much.

“And, what’s in Warehouse H?” Mirage smiled slightly at him, opening up to the curious rookie.

“Come and see.” He said. They both made their way across the military base to Warehouse H. As they entered, Smokescreen’s eyes went wide. Two ships, one old and rusty, the other barely intact and burnt. The old one was larger than the other.

“Wow.” Smokescreen gasped. “You got to fix these?” Mirage nodded.

“Ultra Magnus’s ship, which I have to repair so that it can be used in the predacon bone searches, as well as my IIT.”

“IIT?” He questioned.

“Instant Interstellar Travel. It’s silent, invisible, and can teleport. It was my life’s work, apparently, before the war came. Now, with or without the memories, I’m going to try and fix the IIT. I’m going to try and duplicate the features. That way we can cloak the base, teleport instead of bridging and cancel out sound where needed.”

“Wow. I was just a guard at Iacon.”

“Under Alpha Trion’s teachings. He trusted you. That alone says more about you than this machine does about me.” Mirage told Smokescreen, looking at the IIT. Smokescreen blinked in surprise before reverting his optics. It was true. The IIT only told one that Mirage was dedicated to make a system like him, which seems selfish. Mirage sighed silently.

“I should get started.” He said, heading towards the burnt ship.

Later, Smokescreen awkwardly exited the Warehouse, returning to their original one. As he entered, Ultra Magnus noticed his return.  

“Where were you, soldier?” He questioned. Ultra Magnus recently has been questioning everyone’s whereabouts. For him, everything had to be inside protocol and that meant everyone had to have permission for their actions; except Optimus and himself, of course. Maybe Ratchet as well, since he’s not exactly under Ultra Magnus’s soldier jurisdiction. Ultra Magnus had been especially keeping a close eye on Smokescreen, since he left the base to ‘get a new paintjob’.

“Good, and now you can look your best while stacking those empty cubes.” Ultra Magnus had retorted. Smokescreen straightened up.

“I was with Mirage in Warehouse H, sir!”  Ultra Magnus’s optics narrowed.

“You are not permitted to go back there, not while he has his work.”  

“But, sir, isn’t that a lot to be done by a single bot? And he’s till recovering, Ratchet said no hard labour for -.”

“Believe me when I say Mirage can handle it.” Ultra Magnus spoke before turning and exiting the warehouse. Smokescreen was left confused but resumed on.

Ultra Magnus entered Warehouse H, seeing Mirage already cutting a piece of metal, goggles over his optics he managed to whip together.

“So soon?” Ultra Magnus questioned. He nodded and picked up the piece, walking over to Ultra Magnus’s ship.

“We were fortunate enough that the inside shields held, it’s only the outside damaged. The inside is still in working shape, but I’ll still do some tinkering.” He placed the piece at the bottom of the ship’s frame, and with a welder he wielded the piece to the foundation.

“What is your estimated time?”

“I’d say about a week, maybe two for testing and if I run out of supplies.”

“I shall make sure by the native that you have enough supplies needed.” Mirage nodded, standing up. He went over to a second large piece of material and measured where it had to be cut.

“Are you struggling?” Mirage shook his head.

“Not as much as I thought I would. Like you said, instinct.” Ultra Magnus nodded. And turned to exit.

“Wait, Magnus.” He stopped abruptly, turning to look at Mirage, wide optics. Mirage blinked in surprise, reverting his optics.

“I apologize.” Ultra Magnus shook his head.

“It is quite alright. What did you call me for?” He questioned. Mirage looked up at him, optics full of determination now.

“I want to know more about my past, well, the deal you know of.” Ultra Magnus nodded, understanding.

“What is it you wish to know?”

“How we became partners.” Mirage said. Ultra Magnus smiled before speaking.

A special day broke out on Cybertron. It was the day of the choosing, the choosing of students for Air Command Academy, little ways from Vos Star Air Command. Here, students with aerial modes will be taught how to transform faster, fly faster, obstacles, weaponing themselves and more. Students who aren’t capable of born flight, will be taught to steer a ship, command a ship, weapon a ship, fly through obstacles and hide themselves. Of course, other things will be taught to both students sides. History of Flight, where they talk about the first aerial Cybertronians  and first ship build and where they were used in battle. Both sides will have physical and muscle training, for obvious reasons. But most importantly, they will be taught the academy’s motto.

 Tricks, turns and tips.

The day of choosing only happened once each vorn, so it was a big deal. The academy bred the finest flyers, natural or not. All graduates became known in the ‘Hall of Fame’, for it wasn’t easy to pass. Most dropped out on their own. Every vorn, the academy only chooses two- hundred candidates who they seemed fit; they didn’t just let anyone in. Every vorn the Headmaster would annoyance all two-hundred candidates in Blaster City. The announcing was long, but it was worth it. Cybertronians came all from over Cybertron to see young faces, knowing that in a vorn’s time, they would be known across Cybertron. And now, as that day broke out, al l chaos was released in Blaster City. All Cybertronians wanted to have a spot at front, while the young ones who send their profiles to the academy wanted to be even closer. Ultra Magnus was one of them. Young, inexperienced and wide-eyed. Bumblebee length, no heavy armour to double the length of his shoulder pads or to hide his natural skinny body. His optics were wide, excited smile plastered on his dermas. He was pushing through the crowd, wanting to be right at the front. And he made it. He managed to make it right to the front , ignoring the glares form the Cybertronians he just pushed in front of. He knew that he would be accepted, he just knew it! And then, he’d graduate with everyone knowing his name. Then, he’s sure to get noticed for his talents, maybe even by a Prime. He sighed. What are you saying, Ultra Magnus? Primes have way better things to do then take care of a squirt, he told himself. Suddenly he felt a servo on his shoulder. He turned his helm in surprise. A mech, much younger than him, stared at him with a large, cheerful smile plastered on his face.

“Don’t sigh, you’ll only get permanent dents in your faceplate.” The young mech said, sounding cheerful. Ultra Magnus frowned at the strange mech. His frame’s base colour was black with neon green as detail. He had long legs with regular peds, slight strut,  light armour over his entire frame. His shoulder pads were large and he had a wide, disk-shaped chassis. There were small, black spiked edges at the back of his shoulder pads, as were on the back of his black helm. Sky blue optics and two neon green jet wings.

“My designation is Shimmer!” He introduced himself, cheerfully. Ultra Magus hesitated.

“And I am Ultra Magnus.”

“Oh cool! Double named! But to long… can I call you Magnus? Because calling you Ultra sounds a little funny…” Shimmer said, kicking at the ground with his ped. Ultra Magnus was stunned and silenced.

“I’m assuming your silence means yes!” Shimmered jumped in excitement, thrusting out his fist and hit Ultra Magnus’s shoulder, him stumbling back in surprise.

“So, why are you here? You come to see the young faces or are you one of the expecting young faces?” Ultra Magnus hesitated.

“Uh - I’m going to be a pilot… hopefully.” He answered. Shimmer hummed as he looked Ultra Magnus up and down, examining him.

“Hmm… you look to skinny to be a pilot. But don’t worry! You’ll get some armour in no time!” Shimmer said, giving him a closed eye smile.

“I’m also here to get accepted.” He said, turning to the front.

“But… aren’t you like, way to young?” Ultra Magnus questioned. Shimmer frowned, mumbling something inaudible.

“So you wanna be a pilot, huh?” He said, turning back to Ultra Magnus, one servo on his chin.

“Why?” He questioned, narrowed optics.

“Well… I want to help Cybertron…” He said hesitant.

“Helping! Helping is good!” Shimmer said, hopping.

“I, myself,” he said, placing his servo on his chassis dramatically, “want to follow in my brother’s footsteps.” He said, dramatically putting his servos over his spark.

“So your brother was a graduate?” Ultra Magnus questioned. Shimmer frowned, looking down, his arms falling to his side.

“Not… exactly…” Shimmer said, hesitantly. Dropout, Ultra Magnus thought. Shimmered shook his helm and turned back to Ultra Magnus.

“So, did you hear about last vorn’s number one student? Apparently he’ll be reading the names this year. M-M-M something.”

“Megatronous.” Ultra Magnus said. Shimmer nodded.

“Yeah! I heard he got over a thousand points on the graduation exam! That’s like … impossible! And he’s a gladiator as well!” Ultra Magnus frowned.

“That can’t be right…”

“But it is! And his friend, which he’s bringing with, is some kind of archivist.”

“An archivist?”

“Yeah. How Megatronous came to be friends with an archivist I will never know.” Shimmer said, overacting with arm movements. Sudden ped movement sounded and both mechs turned to the source. Two mechs made their way onto the stage, one staying at the stairs. One was old and had a dark copper colour as a body, heavy armour. He wore proudly on his chest the academy’s logo, for he was he headmaster. Two jet wings with Cybertron in the middle, was the logo. The other was a silver, stern looking mech. His armour was heavy, canyon on his right arm. The mech who stayed at the stairs was mostly red and blue, almost no armour except normal standards. The headmaster spoke, greeting everyone and explaining the entire ordeal. Ultra Magnus straightened up, listening to all. Shimmer, however, stopped listening at ‘Greetings’. Later, Megatronous read the names. Both Ultra Magnus and Shimmer, as well as everyone around, listened intensely. Random names were read, some familiar to the two, but the majority were unknown.

“…Shimmer…” Came his name. His optics turned large. He instantly jumped onto the stage and went to stand in the long rows behind the headmaster and Megatronous.  Ultra Magnus clenched his fists. How did he get accepted?! He questioned himself in annoyance.

“…Ultra Magnus…” Surprise took over him. He was frozen for a second, before seeing Shimmer make servo movements to come on stage. So he did, joining the rows. After all names were announced and the rows grew more and longer, all two-hundred of them were handed a data pad with information regarding what would happen next. That night, Ultra Magnus read through the data pad. They were all required to be at the academy the next day, bright and early. Each had to have a partner, one who doesn’t have one beforehand will be forced with another. The partnership is to develop comradeship and friendly competition. They were going to be staying at the dormitories at the academy, two in a room. You and your partner. Throughout the years at the academy, there will be four major exams, tests between in. The first metacycles will concentrate on theory and history, while the rest will be the actual practical flying. Of course, pilots had a lot more theory work than the flyers. Some classes required the pilots and the flyers to be split, while others they took together. It didn’t matter if your partner wasn’t in the same flying category as you. How am I going to get a partner? I certainly wouldn’t want to be forced, Ultra Magnus thought to himself. Early the next morning, Ultra Magnus stood in front of the academy, other one-hundred and nighty-nine arriving.

“Magnus!” He suddenly felt two arms clamp around him. He turned his helm to look at Shimmer, who had a bright smile plastered on his face.

“Get off!” He said, trying to shake him off. Weird looks were thrown at them and whispers spread under the crowd. Shimmer jumped off from him.

“So,” he started, punching Ultra Magnus’s shoulder slightly. “partner.” His optics shot wide.

“Partner? Where did you ever get that crazy idea?!” Ultra Magnus screeched at him.

“Well, do you have a partner then?” Shimmer questioned, turning three- hundred and sixty degrees.

“Where is that mech at? Or is it a femme?” He questioned, throwing his helm frantically around, sarcastically and over dramatically. He suddenly stopped and placed his one servo on his hip.

“Oh right, you don’t have a partner. So now you have a choice. I’ll be your partner, or you’ll get something like that.” He said, throwing his thumb back at an extremely skinny mech, chasing femmes around and picking metal rocks up. Ultra Magnus looked horrified.

“So?” He looked at Shimmer. He gritted his dentas, before nodding stiffly. Shimmer threw his arms up in the air.

“Yeah, alright!” He yelled, cheerfully. Ultra Magnus frowned.

“How can you be so cheerful?” Shimmer stopped abruptly, cocking his head to one side.

“I don’t know.” He said stupidly. Ultra Magnus face palmed.

“Quiet down you sparklings!” A stern voice said, everyone turning to look at the source. A tall, thick and muscled dark green mech stood at front. He had wires forming a beard beneath his chin, his armour thick. On both shoulders, the academy’s logo. A femme joined his side. She was shorter than him, her base colour a rosy pink with orange as detail. Her armour wasn’t as heavy as his, but still more than normal. Her helm was held high and stern, her jet wings proudly behind her, the academy’s logo on both wings. There were other mechs and femmes behind them, each having the academy’s logo somewhere on their frame. Everyone quieted down instantly and turned to the teachers, standing straight and stern. Even Shimmer stood tall.

“Now then. I am Strikebeedle, the pilots’ commanding officer.”

“And I am Rosebud, the flyers’ commanding officer.” She said through glared optics.

“Today all you sparklings will be joining the biggest military training school on Cybertron, Air Command Academy. Some of you believe it’s easy; sparkling games, if you will.” Strikebeedle said, glaring at each who dared meet his eye sight.

“But I’m sorry to say this then, kiddies, but you’ve underestimated this place big time.” Rosebud said.

“Most of you will dropout before the end of this metacycle. Some of you might even get offlined in your time here. You being here means that you’re determined to give up and offline. You sparklings won’t make it here. So if you wish to leave, do it now. I do not want to be the one to clean up the scrap.” He said, threatening. Ultra Magnus’s optics widened.

“Don’t worry.” He heard, turning his helm towards Shimmer. “It’s just a scare tactic. The younger ones will get afraid and run away, either now or sneak out later.” Shimmer said, eyes full of determination.

“Don’t you want to leave? I mean, you are most defiantly the youngest one here, meaning you’re more fragile than others.” Ultra Magnus said. Shimmer frowned.

“There is no way on Cybertron that I’m backing out. I’m going to make it, and prove once and for all that I’m capable of shedding by own shadow.” Ultra Magnus was surprised at his words. About thirty or so left, some more sneakier than other, but at the end they did a recount.

“One six five… Hm, more than last time.” Rosebud said, chuckling evilly.

“Alright sparklings! Each of you will now line up with your partner to be placed on the system. If your partner was one of the cowards who ran away, then I have absolutely no sympathy for you and who you’ll end up with. And you, who’ll end up with no partner, well, shame. After you sign up, you’ll be taken to your dormitory. Classes will start tomorrow.” Strikebeedle said. Shimmer grabbed onto Ultra Magnus and pulled him into the line. They were one of the first, which was Shimmer’s intention.

“I wonder how the dorms look. Hopefully, you know, liveable. I would hate to live in a place that looks like Insecticon poop.” Ultra Magnus face palmed. He’s my partner?!

“Next.” A femme called, and the two stepped forward.

“Designations.” She said strictly.

“Ultra Magnus, ma’am.”

“I’m Shimmeridoo!” The femme looked confused.

“Excuse me, what?” She asked, dumbly.

“Please excuse him. His designation is Shimmer.” Ultra Magnus answered, having a strong urge to punch him in the helm right now. They walked towards a waiting mech. He had his arms crossed, ped tapping in annoyance. He turned as soon as they were at his side, walking towards the dormitories. They followed, soundlessly. They were led inside and towards a metal door with the number seven on it. Shimmer squeaked as he saw the number.

“Megatronous was in room seven!” He whispered/squeaked. Ultra Magnus rolled his optics. The mech gave them both new data pads before leaving.  

“Yes!” Shimmer cheered as he saw the room. “It doesn’t look like vermin poop!” Ultra Magnus sighed as Shimmer ran into their plain looking room. It had two berths mounted against the wall, two desks with chairs and some other necessities.

“I dibs this one!” Shimmer said, running over to the left side of the room.

“Let me guess, Megatronous’s?” Shimmer gasped in horror.

“I don’t know which berth is his!” He said, looking frantically from the one to the other. Ultra Magnus sighed and sat down on the right side’s berth. He took his data pad and looked through it. It was books for the theoretical classes, as well as his schedule with the teacher’s names.

“Energon Usage? What kind of class is that?” Shimmer groaned, looking at his data pad as well.

“Must be the different kind of energon and what effect they have on flyers or ships, maybe even how to control it from running out quickly.”

“Hmm that does sound useful.” Shimmer jumped up and made his way to Ultra Magnus, peering at his schedule. He laughed.

“You have ten classes! I only have eight! You have like, two more!” Ultra Magnus rolled his optics. Obvious math.

“Mechanical Work and Ship Building. That’s gotta be fun.” Shimmer said, sarcastically. He sighed.

“So, do we just sit here for until tomorrow?” Ultra Magnus nodded.

“Guess so.” Shimmer grinded his dentas together as he looked down at the schedule again.

“History of Flight and History of Jets? Ugh so many history!” Shimmer groaned. “And you’ve got History of Ships. Poor you.” He said chuckling. Why did I agree to him as my partner again? Ultra Magnus thought.