The next morning Ratchet came by for a check-up, with three Protectobots and a Prime in tow. Groove and Streetwise proceeded to fawn over the clutch just as much as any of the Aerialbots had, while Blades merely eyed them critically. Optimus managed to cut Silverbolt off before he could stick his foot in his mouth trying to apologize for Slingshot's transgression the previous evening, merely saying,

"I'm sure yesterday was a stressful one on many accounts," with the usual fatherly twinkle in his optics. "I'm glad to see that you are recovering well from your ordeal, Silverbolt – but do not worry about returning to active duty as soon as possible. We will be awaiting the day you are fully recovered. And of course, the day we get to meet the little ones optic to optic."


"Are they the right temperature? Did you check the thermometer in the nest? Remember to keep turning – "

"Yeah yeah yeah, 'Bolt, we know. They're fine! Shoo!" Streetwise practically had to shove him out the door into the hanger. A couple weeks after laying the eggs, and Silverbolt was finally back in good condition. Not perfect, but some things took time.

"Ready to go, 'Bolt?" Fireflight asked him excitedly, ailerons twitching. Silverbolt walked out in front, then folded down into his alt mode.

/ /Ready/ / The five jets' engines roared to life, and moments later all that remained was dust and clouds.


"Can't we just – "

"You know what Ratchet said, Hot Spot, we're not supposed to interfere!" First Aid chastised. Hot Spot wanted to argue again, but another clang drew his attention back to the egg. Just a few days prior Groove had noticed the eggs wiggling in place, and the day before the shells had become thin enough, and the movements strong enough, for audible taps and clangs to be heard. Slingshot (always a poor recharger) had hours before frantically woken First Aid at the sign of a crack in one of the eggs, and now here they all were gathered, eagerly awaiting the moment they would meet the sparklings for the first time.

Silverbolt watched, awed, as the little flaw on the smallest of the eggs blossomed outward, fissuring around the side of the oblong shell. This was the first real progress to be seen – the sparkling would struggle valiantly for a few minutes, and then pause for longer before repeating. More wiggling in the egg, and the whole thing rolled about a bit before bumping into a sibling. First Aid reached in to rotate it so that the crack faced sideways rather than towards the floor.

A clang and a crack, and all of a sudden a little white fist was sticking out of the shell. The fingers flexed a moment, and then it was drawn back in, enlarging the new hole as it did so. Silverbolt impulsively reached out to entwine his fingers with Hot Spot's – he felt like his spark was going to explode out of his chest, and the room was deathly silent except for the movements of their children as everyone stilled their fans in hushed expectation.

The little one wiggled more, punching the hole larger with the other hand, and finally, thrashing, got its head and torso out into the open air. There was a moment of breathless awe from all the gestalt members, and then the little one screwed up its face and wailed its discontent, vents hacking.

First Aid scooped it up and ragged it off, and it quieted, though its face remained pinched in displeasure. The optics lit up, and suddenly First Aid found himself a very popular bot.

"It's a girl!" he announced proudly, after a quick medscan. "So, what are we naming her?"


"Ok, we've got a horde of Autobots breaking down the doors waiting to be introduced to these guys – are we sure we've gotten everything figured out?" Hot Spot looked up from his data pad at the loose circle of bots squeezed into the Aerialbots' quarters (he added getting a bigger space to his growing list of things that need to get done yesterday). A wave of nodding heads followed his gaze around the room.

"All right then, let's do this." He flicked his optics over to catch Silverbolt's gaze briefly, and then stomped out the door into the hanger, which was filled with a semi-hushed crowd of Autobots, their whispering growing to a fervor as the gestalts tromped out to meet them. Looking around at the gathered bots, Hot Spot stepped up onto the couch for a little more visibility.

"Quiet down, everybody." Immediate silence – who would want to get kicked out? "Well, uh, I guess I'll just get started. Where's, ah," First Aid tapped his hip, then handed up the oldest sparkling. Hot Shot hefted her up under her armpits, her helm flopped forward onto her chest and her limbs limp in recharge, letting the crowd get their first look.

"This here's the oldest, and her name is Cloudcutter. We think she's gonna be a helicopter like Blades. You can see she's real pretty," most of her plating a pearly white, "and she's got a real personality." He passed the sparkling back to First Aid and got fire-manned another.

"This is our littlest jet, and his name is Skysailor. We're not really sure who he takes after yet. Fireflight thought his little white proto-wings looked a little like sails, so, there you go."

"This is one of the, uh, 'twins' I guess you could say. He and his brother are about the same size and seem like they're gonna have real similar alts – you'll see him in a second. His name is Sunbreak," this got some chuckles from the audience, "cause he's usually pretty perky and cheerful."

"Here's the second twin, and I guess he's awake to see you all, too!" A chorus of awws and coos came from the audience at the bright optics flitting about, a lovely shade of cobalt. "His name is Moonclipper. We're pretty sure we know where he gets his looks from," more chuckles, as his color scheme was dark blues and charcoal greys. Among all the gestalt members, only Skydive boasted dark coloration like that.

"And finally, we have the late hatcher – his frame took longer to finish since he's the biggest. We guess he's gonna look something like his papa Silverbolt someday." The audience was quiet with the reverence with which Hot Spot presented the little jet. "We decided to name him Silverstar. They're, uh, glad to meet you." The fire engine finished off his introductions awkwardly.

Silence reigned momentarily as the Autobots digested, and then Optimus stepped forward with his servos out, requesting. Hot Spot passed Silverstar down into his large hands, the Prime tucking the little one close and tickling its faceplate. Optimus fairly beamed down at the cherubic face.

"I think I speak for all the Autobots when I say we are very, very glad to meet them too."

A/N: I think this is officially done! I probably won't do any more with this particular universe. Maybe definitely I don't know.

I'm pretty sure there aren't any transformers with the names of the sparklings – please don't knowingly steal them, as I spent some time dreaming them up! If you didn't notice, there are a couple themes running through them: a bit of a nautical theme (cutter and clipper are both types of sailboats, and sailor) and a bit of a celestial theme (cloud, sun, moon, and star). I actually considered using the name Moonraker, a type of sail, but remembered that it's also a Bond movie. Yeah.

And hopefully this clears up the fact that yes, every member of the gestalt contributed a little to each of the little one's 'info', not just Hot Spot and Silverbolt, though they take after their creators in different degrees. No, the revelation that they are a bitty gestalt hasn't occurred yet, but you can imagine the appropriate reactions when a few decades down the line they instinctively combine the first time. I have no idea what the combiner's name will be.

If you have any questions that you want answered about the characters, the plot, this little universe or whatever, feel free to ask – I will answer if it's in my headspace, and perhaps make something up if it's not.