Ratchet was still a rookie medic then, tools shaking slightly in his servos as he rushed through the wreckage of the battlefield. His scanners caught a faint spark signature ahead, weak but steady.

He found her half-buried beneath twisted metal — an elegant Autobot femme, optics dim, energon leaking from a deep wound along her side.

“Primus…” Ratchet muttered, dropping to his knees. He carefully pushed debris aside, his spark lurching when she let out a faint groan.