Author's Note: I'm terribly sorry. Even though I ADORE Transformers completely, I just can't get my brain to understand the whole orns and megacycles thing, or however the Cybertronians supposedly measure time. And I also have trouble with their ages x_x forgive me. Other than that, enjoy ;) good things are soon to come after this little oneshot~ PervadeTheSilence
Jetfire strode solemnly among the wreckage, stopping occasionally to inspect the damage that remained of their old base. His talons dug absentmindedly through the spoils of the battle, not searching for anything particular, just looking. He stopped to nudge a decimated hatchling pod with a clawed foot. A weak, strangled cry met his audio receptors. He gave the pod another nudge. The cry came again, louder this time.
Gently, Jetfire lifted the pod up to his face, beard-like plates clicking together curiously. There, beneath a fine layer of debris and fragments of glass, lay a tiny premature sparkling. The mech's optics widened with shock. The sparkling's misty sea foam green optics peered up through the shattered remains of the pod. It gave a soft, almost silent squeak. Jetfire watched in total awe as the tiny creature used its even tinier claws to pull itself out of the pod and into the black mech's outstretched hand. His fiery orange optics traveled to the little lumps on the sparkling's back. He scanned it briefly and stood, silently, in amazement. "A flier…a femme flier!" Jetfire breathed. The sparkling stared up at Jetfire, chittering quietly and clutching his thumb. He couldn't help but smile. "You're a cute one, indeed." He murmured, stroking a free digit down her back. She purred at first, leaning into the contact, and then suddenly let out a shriek of agony when the finger ran over where her legs were to grow. "Oh, slag!" Jetfire cursed, snapping his hand away. "Poor little creature is injured. Ugh," he leaned his face close to see what ailed the sparkling. "Oh, no. Your leg socket is damaged. I can't do anything for it, till it grows out." He stopped, thinking. Would Megatron allow him to keep the little femme sparkling? Jetfire doubted it. Even if he could keep her, the little one wasn't likely to survive. She was a runt, and wounded to boot. Still, Megatron had his own sparkling to look after, the noisy brat Starscream. That thought made Jetfire worry. Starscream was mean and violent, attacking his caretakers whenever he got an opportunity. If he viewed this little one as a threat, he could easily kill her.
"Cree?" the sparkling squeaked, tightening her hold on Jetfire's thumb. She hissed slightly when a bolt of lightning streaked across the Cybertronian sky.
"There, there, little one. S' just a storm, that's all." The Seeker mumbled, drawing the sparkling closer to his armor. She reached out toward his chest plates, clicking softly. He let her latch on and slide beneath his metal protection, closer to his spark. He hadn't realized how cold it had gotten since the storm had arrived, feeling her shiver and shrink down closer to the heat of his spark. Hmm, storm. That sounded like the beginnings of a name to him.
Let's see, then. Storm is good for the first part, but its missing something. She is a flier, so, something with wings…uhhh, Stormwing? Stormjet? Stormcloud? No, sounds stupid. Possibly a bird of some sort. An image of Laserbeak popped into Jetfire's mind. That was it! Hawk! The Seeker thought joyously, Stormhawk… He loved the sound of that. He peered down in between his chest plates and clicked. The sparkling's green optics flickered on as she clicked in return. "Stormhawk?" Jetfire whispered.
"Cree?" was his answer, the little creature tilting her head as if she understood. The Seeker's entire face was engulfed in a smile of pure happiness.
Megatron's ruby optics glared down at the little creature cupped in Jetfire's large hands. The black mech could do nothing to protect Stormhawk as his Lord's silver claws poked and prodded, noting every detail. "Pathetic little runt will never survive." Megatron rumbled, giving her a rather hard shove before turning back to his throne.
Jetfire shrank a little, beginning to lose hope. "M-my lord, I wish to raise her, teach her to be a great warrior-"
"Silence!" Megatron barked, slumping down onto his chair with a clang. "Femmes are worthless for everything other than sparking. You honestly think this creature can become a warrior worthy of a rank in the Decepticon army?"
"My Lord, she is a flier, and we lost most of our own in the battle of Genesis, we could use all the help we can get." Jetfire said meekly. Megatron did not look convinced.
"Twenty million." He growled.
"W-What?"
"You have twenty million years to turn her into the best femme warrior on Cybertron. If she is not ready by then I will terminate her myself. And you'd best hope little Screamer doesn't get a hold of her." The silver mech growled again "Now leave me." Jetfire bowed so low that the plates dangling from his chin clanged against the metal floor.
"I will not fail you, my Lord."