Everyone’s supposed to have a past. Me? I don’t remember much. All I remember is being shot down. I was in the Great War. I think it’s still going on. But after I was shot down, all I can remember is … total darkness. Was I off-line?

Who am I? I don’t know, call me anything you like, as long as it’s not insulting. Wait a nano. What on Cybertron is the Great War?!? What is Cybertron anyway? This … It’s … I can’t remember anything! I’m such an idiot! No, I haven’t forgotten what an idiot is. An idiot … is moron. A moron … is a buffoon. A buffoon … is an idiot.

I remember two names, but they’re meaningless. What are they? Autobot and Decepticon. What is so slagging important about these names that my core processor refuses not to think about it?!?

Well, at least I haven’t forgotten how to swear. It feels good to know and remember at least one important word, even if it is a swear word.

I don’t know … What am I? I’m a neutral. I belong nowhere. No one wants me. In other words, I’m … an outcast. I don’t belong anywhere in this world. Primus, damn it! Why can’t I remember?!?

What is this? It’s some sort of brand new technology. Like a futuristic building. Now, I don’t think I’ve seen this before. It’s like … I’m in a whole different time period. What is going on here?!?

HotShot rounded the corner of the building, ready for take off, when he saw an unknown transformer, no faction symbol on his body.

“Hey! Who are you?” he demanded. The transformer whipped around and looked at him with sad eyes.

“Why don’t you tell me? I don’t even know who I am,” he said sadly. “If you want me to leave, I’ll go. But just tell me one thing, ok? My core processor is going crazy about the words, ‘Autobot’ and ‘Decepticon’. What are they?”

HotShot felt sorry for him. Not knowing who one was, was indeed frustrating. One of his friends had told him about it and he couldn’t believe how unfortunate neutrals could be!

“Autobot and Decepticon? Those are factions. You know, group names. We’re at war with the Decepticons. I’m an Autobot and my name’s HotShot,” he exclaimed.

“HotShot,” he echoed and something in his mind clicked. “You couldn’t be… that kid who was always whizzing around and driving everyone crazy?”

Hot Shot knew what he was talking about. If this bot knew this, he could only be one bot.

“Sky Flight? Is that you?”

The transformer nodded a jerky nod. That name … it seemed to suit him like it was his, and he liked it. It had a familiar ring to it.

“I still don’t remember anything else,” he said sadly.

“You don’t need to. Welcome, to a new generation,” said Hot Shot as he allowed his old friend inside the base. “Forgotten past or not, we’ll find a way to bring it back.”

“Thank you. But I wish to remain a neutral,” whispered the neutral as HotShot turned around to face him.

“Very well,” he said and the neutral could have sworn that HotShot, before turning back around, just grinned.