So, if you haven't checked out T-Reilani's fic "Broken", which is in the TFA-verse, then you'll not understand my reasons for putting up this fic, and I suggest that you read it. Due to her use of my OC Ember in that fic, which she is doing with permission, the fact that Ember is not my usual TFA OC, and my own need to have an explanation for everyone in my universes, I've written a place for Ember in TFA. This is basically the story of how she got kicked out of Cybertron Intel.
Transformers is owned by Hasbro, and Ember and Cobra are mine.
I have always been paranoid, which is likely why I survived so long in the Deep-Cover Assassin division of Cybertron Intelligence. I trust few, and I have developed a knack for reading body language, and for reading mechs and femmes to discern their true intent. I run background checks on anyone who seems shady. And Longarm Prime gave off the air of a mech with something to hide.
It turned out that he did, but I was kicked out in his purge of the ranks before I could really find out what. Longarm, if that is even his real name, knew that my partner and I analyzed everything he said, looked for all potential holes in his stories, and were checking the datanet for correlations.
We were an exclusive branch of Cybertron Intelligence, there were never more than ten of us in the unit at once. We are assassins and spies above all else. Our job was to disappear, and to make disappear.
Let me explain. Every time we accepted a mission, we would disappear. We assumed an identity that was created for us. Or, once we reached a certain level of experience, we would create our own. After our target had been neutralized, we would vanish again. We would "move". We would "suffer a fatal accident". Sometimes, we just disappeared with no explanation.
We were the most paranoid of the paranoid. As far as we are concerned, everything is a conspiracy, and everyone is out to get us. You trust very, very few. You even begin to question the actions of your own creators. Very few of us are lucky enough to be bonded (I am not one of them), but I have seen cases where bonded mechs and femmes begin to distrust the one who knows them best, their mate. I do not even know how we bring ourselves to trust our partners.
Yes, I said partners.
As Cobra once told me: "It may be you against the world, but your partner will always be there to bring you home." Our "partner" was not an accomplice in our missions, they were contacts, either on a mission of their own or living on-base until we completed ours.
Cobra was my partner, my mentor, and, above everything else, my friend. We exchanged gifts at Yule, he often spent time at my flat, we went out together on our off-time... we were inseperable. I do not remember a time when he was not the call I made when I was in trouble, under fire, or when I just needed someone.
It was here, understandably, that Longarm began his purge. Where better to start than the division who can spot a fake identity a cybermile away?
I was the only DCaAA to be dishonorably discharged. Cobra was not so lucky.