Transformers The Hatchling

Activity List

Storm POV

I began to put my nest back together, carefully laying the metal down first, arranging the pieces like I always did. My talons worked swiftly, bending the metal into a stable, strong weave before I brought out my flame. The familiar heat of it filled the air as I melted the pieces together, each spark illuminating the shadows in the dimly lit room. But just as the final piece was about to be welded, I was interrupted by the low hum of the ground bridge. I ran to it in a flash, only to catch a glimpse of Optimus and—surprisingly—Ratchet stepping through it. An angry Arcee, however, was glaring at the human younglings.

Jack, ever the peacemaker, tried to lighten the mood. "So what's on the activity list?"

Arcee scowled, her optics narrowing as she turned to Bulkhead. "I'm going on patrol. Bumblebee, you're with me. Bulkhead, you're in charge."

Bulkhead hesitated, stammering a protest. "But Optimus said to stay here."

"When you're in charge, you can call the shots," Arcee snapped back, before transforming smoothly into her two-wheeled earth vehicle form. I couldn't help but watch her transformation in awe, the way her parts folded into place like a puzzle. I longed to transform, to join them on patrol, but every time I tried, I only got halfway before the parts snapped back into place. It felt like a spring stretching between the two forms, and it always felt so... incomplete. If only I had the strength to pull myself out of this form, then Optimus could take me with him, and I could help my family in this war.

Once Bumblebee finished transforming, they drove off, leaving Bulkhead standing with the younglings, unsure of what to do. Jack, ever the brave one, repeated his question.

"So, uh... what's next?"

Miko suddenly made a high-pitched noise, her voice coming from... a box? My audio receptors perked up, though I wasn't sure if that was a good idea.

"How about band practice?" she suggested enthusiastically.

"But we're not a band," Raf retorted, covering his ears from the noise Miko was already making.

"Come on, Raf, why so antisocial?" Miko prodded. "You play anything?"

Raf held up his laptop, his answer clear. "Laptop and sound effects."

Miko turned to Jack with a mischievous grin. "Jack?"

Jack stammered, clearly not ready for the question. "I sometimes mess around on the harmonica."

"Does it look like I play country music?" Miko laughed. "Just cover yourself in fake blood and jump around screaming." She gave Bulkhead an excited look. "You do percussion, Storm does special effects, and there! We're a band!"

As she made noise with some strings, I had to suppress a growl. The sounds were overwhelming, harsh and noisy. I laid down, trying to protect my sensitive audio receptors, though the noise continued relentlessly.

"What, dragons aren't into heavy metal?" Miko teased, her hands still moving over the strings, making more racket.

Then, the alarm blared, cutting through the chaos.

"Proximity alert. Hide, now!"

The younglings scattered behind Bulkhead. I could hear the tension in the air as the noise from Miko's object reached a new height.

"PRIME!" I heard Fowler's irritated voice crackle over the comm.

"Agent Fowler... Optimus isn't here... No one's here... Except me." Bulkhead stood still, attempting to defuse the situation.

"Where did he go? Don't tell me he's off panicking in a minimall. And by the way, I don't know what language you speak on your planet, but when Prime said he'd handle the Decepticons, blowing a crater in Nebraska is *not* what that means in English."

Fowler paused, and I could almost hear the sarcastic grin on his face. "Wait, since when are Autobots electric?"

The younglings, cautiously peeking from behind Bulkhead, exchanged awkward glances. I was closest to Fowler, my stance protective, ready to pick him up if he got too angry. After all, the younglings were under my care.

"Hey," Jack waved, trying to smooth things over.

Fowler stared at him, unimpressed. "Contact with civilians? Team Prime has really gone off-book this time. Wait, don't tell me you're running a daycare center."

Bulkhead shifted, looking sheepish. He couldn't exactly argue with that assessment, considering the current situation with the younglings.

"Wait," Jack cut in, trying to salvage the situation. "We're interns. Earning extra credit in robotics."

But Fowler wasn't buying it. He crossed his arms, skeptical. "Right, okay. Let's move. You three will be coming with me into federal custody. For your own protection."

I rose from where I had been lying, a low growl rumbling in my chest. My optics narrowed as I moved protectively toward the younglings. I placed myself between them and Fowler, making my stance clear. They were mine to protect.

"We're protecting them," Bulkhead said firmly, his voice carrying the weight of his authority.

I growled again, a sound full of warning, and moved closer to the younglings, who now stood under my chest plate. My optics fixed on Fowler, my message clear: *touch them, and you'll regret it.*

"We'll see about that after I talk to my superiors at the Pentagon," Fowler said, a tone of finality in his voice. But before he could make another move, Bulkhead stepped forward, and with one accidental misstep, broke the phone booth.

"I wouldn't use that," Bulkhead said casually. "It broke this morning."

I chuckled, a series of low chuffs that didn't mask the humor in my voice. That was one less thing for Fowler to rely on.

"This isn't over, Bigfoot," Fowler grumbled, storming out of the base, likely angry and headed toward his own people.

As the tension died down, Bulkhead grumbled, looking at the younglings. "Well, this isn't good."

I rolled my optics. "Just chill. If he comes back, I'll sick the dragon on him." Mike says with a grin.

I picked up Miko without hesitation, ignoring her protests as her legs dangled. She was a loud one, but I'd keep her away from 'band practice' for a while. No more noise for my sensitive audio receptors. I carried her off, far from the chaos, with Bulkhead following behind us, still unsure of how to handle the situation. The younglings were safe, for now... and that's all that mattered.