Healed [Sequel to Burned](Transformers Prime)

Chapter Eight | Team

" Livin' in ruins, of a palace within my dreams,
And you know, we're on each other's team "

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Her hearing was the first to return online, able at first to only hear murmurs and muffled sounds before the words began to form in her processor, crystalizing into clear sounds and pronunciations.

"You're safe now, Chromia. Just follow the light . . ."

She started to move more, optics flickering online then shutting again as a bright light disturbed them, her underused voice box scrapping out a noise of agony. The light disappeared, and she opened them again.

Bright aquamarine optics gazed down at her, furrowed in concentration as they tried to gauge her reaction. Intuitively she knew to relax, finding the Autobot symbol which rested on the medic model. His color scheme brought back a name, and finally his face a sense of familiarity.

"Ratchet?" She croaked.

The medic nodded. "Yes. You are still a little low on energon, but I'm sure it's more the stasis than anything else that has fogged up your processor. Give it time."

Chromia's nature did not allow her to give it time. "Where am I?"

"You are on Earth, at Autobot Outpost Omega One," Ratchet explained, anticipating that most of this would go over her helm, "we found you in a stasis pod and brought you back here before any native lifeforms could come snooping around."

Chromia narrowed her optics for a second, still feeling sluggish as her processor began waking up a little more at a time. "Aren't you a part of Team Prime?" Her optics widened a little more, becoming slightly eager. "Where is Arcee?"

"Arcee is back on Cybertron," Ratchet looked at her worriedly. "When did you enter stasis?"

Chromia closed her optics as she thought, taking a few breaths as she tried to remember. "I'm not entirely sure . . ." She opened her optics and squinted at him. "It was some time after the great Exodus. I stayed on Cybertron to help survivors, but then . . . Sentinel Prime had a ship, the Ark. It became a safe haven, Ironhide and I went aboard to help. Something went wrong . . ." Her processor was still foggy, minute details slipping from her grasp. "I just remember . . . Ironhide shoving me in a pod and sending me off-ship."

Ratchet became even more concerned. A whole ship of Autobots, potentially in danger or destroyed; and Chromia so far was the only survivor of that tragedy. "Was it Decepticons?" He asked, trying to help her remember.

"No, no; that much I do remember." Chromia looked up at him. "The Ark was too large, and too protected, for Decepticons to try and take it over. The threat was inside the very walls of the ship. I just can't think of it . . ." She was beginning to get very frustrated with herself, frowning. "I'm guessing no one else from the Ark made it here."

"No, you're the only one," Ratchet confirmed, grim. "And we have not received any distress transmissions. But Earth and Cybertron are incredibly far away; it could take years without Spacebridging to make it here." His optic ridges furrowed. "Which means . . . You have been in stasis for a very, very long time."

A look of horror and shock crossed Chromia's faceplates, the femme trying to sit up but the medic holding her down.

"Chromia, I need you to stay calm - "

"Calm?!" She snarled. "I have been in stasis for Primus knows how long and you want me to remain calm?! Ironhide is more than likely dead, as well as the other Ark members, any information I have about the war is obsolete because it is now out-dated, and now I must be caught up on everything!" The femme was becoming increasingly hysterical. "Anything could have happened, but I wasn't there to help because I was stuck in a stasis pod floating through space! Ironhide, you idiot!"