Transformers The Hatchling

Storm chaser

Optimus POV

The next morning, a loud squawk sliced through the silence, dragging me out of recharge. My optics flickered on, and I blinked rapidly, adjusting to the light. The first thing I noticed was that the femme—my new hatchling—had nearly doubled in size overnight. Her small frame was now almost too big for the space, and she leapt off my chest with an energetic bound, her claws clicking against the floor as she dashed toward the door.

Before I could even get up, she was already running to the waste room, her movements smoother, more purposeful. I quickly opened the door, watching as she darted inside and circled the large drain, her small form instinctively completing the task at hand. After a brief moment of sniffing the air, she squatted and did her business, chirping contentedly as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It seemed we had already settled into a routine.

However, her rapid growth was becoming a concern. The small bunker in Washington wouldn't hold her much longer. I needed to talk to Fowler about finding a larger space—one that could accommodate not just her, but the growing team as well. But for now, this place would have to suffice. I glanced around at the others, who were still recharging. With most of them out of commission, I decided to get some work done while the hatchling played on the floor, tossing a ball around and pouncing on it with exuberance. It was hard to focus with her darting about—her rapid growth was a constant reminder that she was not going to stay small for long.

Suddenly, the door banged open, and Cliffjumper dashed in, his voice booming with excitement. "Is it true we have a Predacon!" he shouted, startling the hatchling, who instantly dove behind my pedes in panic. I sighed, looking down at her as she peeked out from behind my legs. "Lower your voice, Cliffjumper," I said, my tone calm but firm. "Yes, we found a Predacon egg, and it hatched. This is our new teammate." The hatchling cautiously emerged, her optics flicking up to me for reassurance. She edged closer to Cliffjumper, sniffing the air, her small head tilting in curiosity. She took a few tentative steps forward, her optics locked on him. Then, without warning, she nipped at his pede.

Cliffjumper yelped, hopping backward. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, clearly caught off guard by the small creature's sudden bite. The hatchling leaped back in shock, her wide optics blinking at him.  I gently scoop her up into my hands. "No, little one, that wasn't nice," I said softly, bringing her face level with mine. Her optics dimmed, her head lowering in shame as she avoided my gaze. I sighed, my tone softening. "You didn't mean harm, but you need to learn better." I set her down carefully, and she sulked over to the corner, letting out a mechanical whine that was almost like crying. She turned her back to us, facing the wall in her little corner, clearly upset with herself. Before I could go over and comfort her, Ratchet strode into the room, his voice already full of impatience.

"And where have you been, Cliffjumper? You know you have a routine check-up scheduled!" Ratchet snapped, his arms crossed in annoyance. Cliffjumper shrugged casually. "Found a new mine last night. Not a lot, but enough to line the cave floor. Got a piece stuck in my pede, though. Wouldn't mind getting that taken out later, if you please, Hatchet." He emphasized the nickname, a smirk playing on his face. Ratchet's optics narrowed dangerously. "Stop calling me 'Hatchet,'" he growled, his voice dangerously low. Cliffjumper chuckled, clearly enjoying winding up the medic. "I'll call you whatever I want, Hatchet. Anyway, I'm not here for that—just need the crystal out of my foot." I raised an optic ridge, shifting my attention back to the hatchling as I recalled something. "Wait, Cliffjumper, would the pede she bit be the one with the crystal piece stuck in it?" Cliffjumper looked at me in surprise. "Yeah, why?"

"That's why she bit you," I explained. "She eats raw crystals. She must have smelled the energon on your pede." I glanced at the hatchling, still sulking in the corner, her optics downcast. She was learning, but her instincts were still guiding her more than anything else. "Little one, come here," I called softly. "What you did wasn't nice, but I understand why. You can smell the energon, can't you?" She hesitated for a moment, but finally, she looked up at me, her optics softening just a fraction. I gently scooped her up, and she hung limply in my hold, her body tense but not struggling. "You're not in trouble anymore," I reassured her, rubbing her small head gently. "Just don't bite anyone again, okay?" I raised an energon crystal to her, and her optics lit up with hunger. She snatched it from my hand and started eating it quickly. She finished it in seconds, her energy levels spiking. The sulking had stopped, and she darted toward the ball, lobbing it around with even more vigor.

Cliffjumper watched her, a grin spreading across his face. "She's so cute," he commented, his voice soft with amusement.  Ratchet rolled his optics, crossing his arms. "Optimus, she's growing faster than I expected. We're going to need a bigger base soon, or she'll outgrow this one in no time." I nodded, keeping my attention on her. "I'll speak to Fowler about it. But for now, we'll have to make do with what we have."

As if to emphasize Ratchet's point, there was a sudden sizzling sound from the corner. We all turned just in time to see the hatchling shoot a weak fireball at the lobbed ball, sending it hurtling across the room and smashing into the wall with a loud bang. Ratchet's voice shot up in alarm. "No fire near the ground bridge!" he yelled, but the hatchling just chirped in response before leaping at the ball again, her playful energy unchecked.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "The next base will definitely need a lot more space for her. Otherwise, we'll have the whole place coming down around us." Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "And Optimus, you need to give her a designation. I want to know what to shout when she causes the next disaster." Thinking it over for a moment. "I'm thinking Storm Chaser. For her tendency to get into trouble, and her boundless energy." Ratchet snorted. "Couldn't have thought of a better one myself. Hopefully, in a few years, she'll direct that storm of destruction at the Decepticons instead of us." I nodded, feeling a rare warmth in my chest as I watched the hatchling chase her tail, her joy infectious. "Let's hope so." As Ratchet began his rounds in the medbay, I turned back to the archives, scanning through the sparse data on Predacons. The research was limited—there were only a handful of bones and remains recovered over the years, and the studies were mostly inconclusive. What little information we did have suggested that Predacons grew at an accelerated rate, but their lifespan was incredibly long.

A soft chirp from the corner caught my attention, and I turned to find the hatchling curled around my pede again, her optics dim with sleep. She was too small to be sleeping there—far too vulnerable. Gently, I picked her up again, cradling her in my hands. She sighed contentedly, curling up in my hold as I carried her to the table next to the screen. I placed her carefully on the surface, and she immediately curled up into a ball, letting out a soft chirp before slipping into recharge. I stared down at her for a moment, my mind racing with the uncertainty of the future. But one thing was clear—this tiny creature had already made an impact on our lives, and as strange and unpredictable as this new chapter was, I would do everything in my power to protect her.