A/N: I'm kinda having a bit of trouble with Stereo Hearts so I'm hoping that this will maybe help me get more creaitive

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or anyone of their awesome characters. I only own the plot.

**Warning: There's just a bit of sad part; mystery too I suppose. Anyway, I hope you read, enjoy, and comment!

"Carrier, Sire, no! You can't leave me. Please!" She wailed, coolant running down her small face. Her tiny servos grabbed hold of her sire's pede, doing little to tug him back. She pulled with all her might but ended up falling back on her skid plate.

"Moonracer, she will be safe in your care won't she?" Her sire asked, demand and concern etching his tone as he picked up his sparkling and settled her back onto her pedes.

"Yes, sir. We will do all that we can providing-" Firestar was cut off as a powerful blast was shot not too far away from their position. The miscellaneous debris flew everywhere, scattering after hitting another solid form. Chunks of what used to be a building flew in their direction, the mech shielding his sparkling with his body.

"Providing that the Decepticons do not harm the youth sectors." She finished. Her blue optics glanced down to the tiny frame gripping onto her sire's leg for dear life. The small frame shook with fear; it was a sight that she had grown used to seeing.

"Thank you, Moonracer." The femme nodded in ascent at his words. Turning away from the femme, the mech dropped down to one knee so he could be optic level with his only daughter. His mate standing behind him, hand resting on his shoulder.

"Now, Moonracer here is going to keep you safe. Listen to her and do not disobey. She and the other femmes will protect you. Stay strong, little one."

The small sparkling shook her head, revealing more coolant building up. "N-no, Sire. Don't leave me-e." She exclaimed, forcing herself into one last hug.

"We must. To keep you safe." He whispered in her audio.

She dug her tiny helm into his chassis, reveling in the feeling of his warm and safe spark.

"We need ta go now, sweetspark." Her carrier crooned, placing a hand on his mates shoulder.

"No! No! No!" She spluttered, latching onto her sire's chest tighter.

"Baby Girl, it's time ta let go."

"No!" She screamed again as she felt unfamiliar hands pry her away from her creators.

"It'll be alright. I promise." The stranger crooned.

"No!" She cried out again, this time earning the silence of her creator's backs. She wriggled her body in the tight grip, getting nothing in return. Finally, she let go as she watched the two walk away, leaving her behind in the care of strangers. A final tear ran down her face as it was too late to run from the incoming missile.

Blue optics onlined abruptly peering at the door that led to the rest of the hangar. The room was dark despite the fatigue glow of the regret filled optics. Fear brimmed the glass that protected the blue light. Within the shared quarters, two separate systems ran: one whining with the tension of stress, the other carefree and running the course of recharge.

Prowl listened to his mates systems run accordingly. He also listened as the comforting noise seemed to be disrupted by his pounding spark threatening to break its casing. He brought in a ragged breath, attempting to calm himself down like he saw the humans do. He also attempted to clear his processor of the nightmare that happened fifteen centuries ago. When Prowl had shuttered his optics, the precious face of his daughter reared her sparkbroken face. The coolant staining her face and her optics flickering from the sobs that drained away her energy.

Shifting slightly, Prowl found Jazz's silver arm draped over his abdomen, holding him in place. He felt the saboteur's chest plates touch his back ever so slightly, being mindful of his doorwings. His mates facial plating was nuzzled deep within his neck cabling, finding comfort and security within the heat of his Energon. He felt the warm air cycle through his parted lips, tingling his sensors.

Prowl raised his optics to look up at their ceiling. The many constellations that hung in the night sky above Praxus was now painted above their helms, courtesy of Sunstreaker. Peering up at the mural had brought back memories of when his family sat outside and watched the night sky together. He remembered when he and Jazz had watched her wish upon her first shooting star. Cre'tors, I wish for us t' be toget'er always. She had said, tugging on Jazz's digit. Prowl smiled at the memory, ignoring the fact that a lone tear had run the length of his face plates.

"Prowl," Jazz called. Prowl jumped at the sound of his designation being called. He turned his helm to the side to meet Jazz's optics. His visor had retracted, revealing all the concern for his bondmate. Jazz had called Prowl's name three times now, that being the third time. A nother set of dull peaceful optics lit up the dark room, fatigue pulling at the soft lips that performed a slight frown.

"Yes, Jazz," Answered Prowl in his usual monotone voice.

"Hey, babe; ya a'ight? Ah've been callin' your name an' ya hav'n't answered." Jazz explained, stifling the urge to yawn.

"Yes. I have just been…thinking." Prowl breathed.

Jazz lifted an optic ridge. Perplexed to say the least. He knew Prowl had thought hard at times, but Jazz had always gotten him to respond on the first try.

"'Bout," Jazz pushed.

"Nothing to concern yourself with, love. Just old memories."

Jazz wasn't convinced of his statement. Rather, he knew what and who he was thinking about. It wasn't uncommon for his bondmate to wake up in the middle of the night from recharge thinking about their creation. Jazz knew just how much the loss of her had impacted Prowl. He knew just how much Prowl regretted leaving her with Firestar on that orn. And he knew just how much Prowl…blamed himself for her death.

"Ah miss her too," Jazz whispered into the darkness as he snuggled up next to Prowl, peering up into the ceilings mural with him.

I am Optimus Prime; and I send this message to any surviving Autobots taking refuge among the stars. We are here; we are waiting.

Elita One looked down onto the small blue and green planet. She was currently stationed on the moon with her team: Chromia and Firestar. They watched the debris float around in this planets orbit. Satellites beeping hear and there; almost like Red Alert's security cameras. She watched one of them pass, her following its movement. Beside Elita, Chromia and Firestar.

The two femmes walked up next to their leader. Excitement in their blue optcs. The three had listened to their Primes message three times; this being the third. They reread the coordinates attached, remembering the location.

"When are we headed out?" Firestar asked. She inclined her helm to the small planet before them.

"Yeah, when do we get to see our mechs?" Chromia added with a wink.

"Soon," Elita responded to both their questions. Her optics wondered back to glaze over their destination. Her femmes would be able to see their fellow mates and old partners soon. She would be able to see Optimus Prime. Relief coursed through her circuits at the fact that her own mate was alive and well. But that reunion could wait; for now, she had duties to take care of. Quickly snapping back into commander mode, Elita turned to face her small squadron.

"Have you contacted the Autobots?"

"Yes," Firestar replied quickly. "I have informed Red Alert of our position and when we would be arriving. Prowl has been notified and in return notified Prime."

"Good. Any Decepticons close to us?"

"Nope, the scanners didn't pick up anything. And even if they did I'd blow 'em up to slag!" Chromia snickered. Her cannons whirring to life at the mere thought.

Elita rolled her optics and placed her hand on Chromia's weapons. "Don't you dare shoot; you will draw attention to us if you do."

Chromia grumbled but did as she was told.

"We leave for Autobot base in one orn. Till then, Firstar, contact Red Alert and let him know we will arrive tomorrow. Chromia, keep your scanners on high. We cannot allow any Decepticon to know of where the Autobots are."

"Yes, ma'am," Both stood at attention until Elita dismissed them, sending them off to their respective duties.

Elita was alone again. Alone to her thoughts. Alone to her plans. Alone to her spark. She peered back out into the dark empty void of space. She turned her helm to the direction of one lone star: Cybertron. The star was bright with hope but as for now, there was no hope. Many members of her team had died trying to protect their home; among them a once trusted comrade: Moonracer.

Elita shook her helm with the memory coming back to her. Moonracer had died trying to protect a sparkling. The sparkling of the second and third of the Autobots. It was the missile of the Decepticons that had taken her young life. The same missile that had killed a sparkling of important leaders in this war. It was that one memory that was the driving force for her to win this war. The driving force to provide revenge for Moonracer and Prowl and Jazz's sparkling.

So here she was, the femme commander wishing for revenge in the bleak darkness of the moon. She stood silent, peering out into space; aware of what her teammates were doing, but unaware of the pair of alice blue optics protruding from the darkness. The optics blinked behind her; their intention unknown but after a few kliks of study, they disappeared without a trace.