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.