Slipstream: Resurrection

Chapter Six

Touching the Void

It was a quiet evening at the Autobot Command Centre, and from the reports that Kup had received from Prime's team at Lexaris City, that was probably a good thing. He was reading that same report at the moment, while wandering the corridors of the ACC, heading nowhere in particular. He wasn't sure what had him more perplexed... the sheer, wanton destruction described in the report, or the fact that, after far longer fighting this war than even he cared to recount, he still had the capacity to be surprised.

Kup wasn't sure how, but he ended up in the atrium. He sighed to himself; he had intended heading to his own office, but instead found himself staring up at the night sky through the vast dome that covered the entrance hallway. Kup thumbed the 'off' control on the data-pad, and took a few steps out into the atrium. Most of the office windows that looked out over the hallway were dark, and it was so quiet that Kup could clearly hear the small fountain at the back of the room bubbling to itself.

Kup nodded to the Autobots manning the security station, before heading to one of the small seating areas that lined the atrium. His duties were all but done for the day, and the only thing that Kup needed to do before heading home for the night was to wait for Prime to get back to base, which would be in the next half hour or so. He sat down, happy to have a moment to rest his servos, and looked upward once more. Even with the lights in the atrium, Kup could still make out air traffic and even a few stars in the inky black vista beyond the dome. Amongst the collection of twinkling lights, one caught Kup's attention for a moment, a brief flare against the night, before going dark once more.

Kup focused on the area he had seen the flash, but could see nothing more. He had been sure that it had been backwash from some kind of jet, and it had looked close; far closer than any traffic should have been travelling past the ACC. A second later, and he saw it again, and this time it was closer still... far too close, in point of fact. Kup sprang to his feet, a yell of alarm just beginning to leave his vocaliser when, with a deafening, splintering crash, a segment of the dome was sent tumbling into the atrium. Kup had just enough time to get a vague impression of the object that had broken through the dome, a bipedal figure wreathed in engine backwash and dome fragments, before having to dive behind the nearest cover, which happened to be the fountain's base. As his brain fought to translate what he had seen in that moment, he was shocked to recognise it as a Cybertronian.

Kup waited for the cacophony of shattering armacrys to die down, watching as a few of the shards, some longer than his arm, flew past his hiding place and embedded themselves in the wall. A strangled cry from across the room told him that at least one of the guards hadn't been so lucky, and a flood of concern ran through the veteran. Armacrys, while looking like simple glass, was actually an advanced composite poly-alloy, with similar density and stress factors to cybertronium/carbide hull plating, of the kind normally found on starships. In short, it was meant to take nothing less than a concentrated weapons strike to even come close to breaking it; whoever had been hit would be in bad shape.

Kup peered over the top of the fountain, searching for the cause of the impact. It took only a second to spot the perpetrator. In the centre of the hallway, there was a shallow impact crater, a craze of fine cracks spreading out through the pale marble floor like a spider's web. A myriad glass-like fragments coated the surrounding area, glittering as they caught the light. And in the centre of it all, rising slowly from the crouch he had landed in, was the last mech on Cybertron that Kup had expected to see.

Slipstream allowed himself a wide, feral grin, as he took in the collective shocked stares of the Autobots. Pity, he thought to himself, not a single face that I recognise. The vampire took a step forward, thoroughly intent on introducing himself properly, and hissed quietly under his breath as his tortured and dented legs nearly gave under the strain. He could already feel them healing, though, and by the time he was within striking distance of the closest Autobot, they were whole once more.

Still he moved forward, slow and predatory, savouring the fear and pain he had already caused, and anticipating all that was to come. Slipstream took care to step over the broken form of one of the guards, whose body was peppered with armacrys, and haemorrhaging fluids across the ground in a widening pool. He watched the dying mech for a moment as he walked by, his features devoid of anything save some small, morbid interest, then continued forward once more. The nearest Autobot, a large, white and blue mech with square-set features that stood head and shoulders taller than Slipstream, finally reacted, snapping out of his stunned state and bringing a rifle out of subspace. His colleagues, who had also been staring in mute horror at the vampire, were not too far behind him, and at an order from Kup they opened fire as one.

By the time the first shot was fired, Slipstream was moving far faster than any of them could follow. The opening barrage went wide of the mark as, with a burst of acceleration, Slipstream lunged at his chosen victim. The tall warrior brought his weapon to bear and fired again, but Slipstream was too fast. He stepped aside nimbly at the last instant, then moved forward to attack. With his left hand, Slipstream grabbed the gun barrel, driving upward with his right hand at the Autobot's elbow joint. With a sickening crack, the joint broke, twisting the arm into a shape it was never designed to assume.

Without stopping, Slipstream completed his spin, first tearing the rifle out of the guard's grasp, then ramming his left elbow into the Autobot's chest plate. With another mercurial movement, Slipstream brought his right fist up in a vicious open-handed uppercut, sending his opponent sprawling backwards. The whole thing took less than three seconds. A mere moment later, Slipstream swung the blaster in his grip, fired two shots into the mech's chest, then simply watched in undisguised glee as the mech's corpse crashed to the ground.

"So," Slipstream said, his voice soft and low, and utterly malicious. He tossed the weapon to one side, confident that he wouldn't need it any more. "Who's next?"

O o O o O

Rodimus Prime was glad to be back home. After the horror of the attack at Lexaris, Prime's mind had been awhirl with the possibilities of who was responsible, none of them boding well for the people of Cybertron. After discovering the still-unnamed mech in the lab, and the similarities between his death and the methods once employed by Slipstream, Prime had ordered the other corpses in the Sciences Institute to be checked for similar wounds. Of the twenty-eight dead, twelve of them had the same incisions in the fuel lines that fed their cranial units.

As the night had wound on, it had become more and more apparent that the attack hadn't been carried out by a group, but by just one or two mechs. Somehow, in defiance of all possibility, Slipstream was alive, and from the sheer ferocity of the attack, he was more dangerous than ever. The implications were almost too terrifying to think about. Optimus had barely been able to stop the creature last time... what would it take for Rodimus to do the same? In returning to the ACC, Prime looked forward to returning to some semblance of normality, if only for a little while.

As he and his friends turned into Central Plaza, the sight that greeted them was anything but comforting. It was immediately obvious that the ACC had been attacked. A thick pall of smoke rose from the front sections of the building. The flickering light of multiple fires was visible through the windows, lighting the dome with a ruddy, orange glow. Rodimus screeched to a halt, transforming quickly and rapidly barking out orders to his troops. Within seconds, Springer and Cosmos were airborne, circling the ACC and searching for any sign of the attackers, while Prime led the rest of his team in on foot.

Prime reached the ACC's main entrance first, flanked by Jazz and Blurr, and followed by Sandstorm, Trailbreaker, Ratchet and Hound. He threw himself flat against one of the door's columns, hefting his blaster rifle in a double-handed grip, and waited for his team to take their places. Prime risked a lightning fast glance into the atrium, looking for any obvious signs of movement, then ducked back into cover. He hadn't seen anything, but couldn't rule out the threat of enemy snipers. In his spark, Prime already knew this wasn't a Decepticon attack. It was Slipstream, it had to be. He didn't know how he knew; his human friends would have called it a 'gut feeling', and that was the only way he could describe the sensation.

"Hound," Prime said through a private comm channel, while still thinking about the dangers of who they were facing, "see if you can flush out any lurkers. Everyone else, get ready. Springer, Cosmos, anyone up there?"

"Skies are free, Prime," came the terse reply from Springer. "If it's the 'Cons, it looks like they're running without air cover, or else they're running for stealth. Either way, the damage all seems to be concentrated on the sections nearest the public entrance."

"That's not good," Prime said, as he watched Hound begin generating a holographic shell to send into the entrance hall. He almost smiled as he saw the image begin to resolve into his own features, before giving one last order to his air forces. "You'd best get down here. I get the feeling that we're going to need everyone in the fight. Prime out."

Prime watched his photonic doppelgänger walking into the ACC, already getting the feeling that it wouldn't get a response. If Slipstream was following the same pattern of destruction he had displayed at Lexaris, he would be far too busy to be watching the atrium. After a few moments, no one had opened fire on the holographic Prime, and the real one ordered his troops into the building. They moved in slowly, still being careful to avoid any open lanes of fire, and scanning every corner of the room for hidden assailants.

The damage was just as bad as Prime had expected. The atrium was a charnel house; bodies and body parts were strewn across the space, many of them laying in pools of energon and or coolant fluid. Prime knelt down next to the first whole body he came to, and recognised him as Hardcase, one of the night guards. He had two neat blaster holes in his chest, as well as a broken arm and a number of smaller dents across his chassis. He had been hit hard and fast, and the quiet, rising fear that had been building in Prime's chest became just a little sharper. Hardcase lived up to his name, a solid fighter that would never back down. As Prime wondered what it had taken to kill the powerful mech, a call from across the room caught his attention.

"We've got a live one!" Jazz was yelling. "It's Kup!"

Prime was there in moments, kneeling down next to his oldest friend and searching his faceplate for movement. The veteran was completely still, almost peaceful looking, an image completely at odds with the injuries he had sustained. His chest plate bore several long gashes, one deep enough to reveal some of the underlying circuitry. Large sections of Kup's plating were dented, and covered in a patina of dried energon, staining the vibrant green a dull brown. Worst of all, his neck supports showed signs of being bitten, as though chewed on by an animal, and twin slits in one of the power cables on Kup's left side were still seeping thin rivulets of the mech's life-fluid.

"Pr-Prime?" Kup gasped softly, his optics guttering to faded life. "That you, son?"

"I'm right here, old man," Prime said, trying to keep his tone light. Kup smiled weakly in response to the old nickname. "Kup, who did this?"

"S-Slipstr... Slipstream," Kup managed to hiss, gritting his denta in pain. "He's back, Prime. After all this time... we... we shoulda known, kid."

"I know," Prime said, remembering all too well the misgivings he had voiced about Slipstream's body being kept whole. While no-one could have known that the vampire would come back to life, the very idea of keeping his body had felt wrong to the Autobots, and a cloud of foreboding had hung over the whole affair. Now, it seemed that fate had conspired to visit retribution on them all for the actions of a few... shaking his head, Rodimus shook the superstitious thought from his mind, and asked his next question. "Kup... was he alone?"

Kup nodded once, and then his optics went dark. Prime looked to Ratchet with questioning optics, and the medic just shook his head.

"Stasis lock," he said simply. "He'll be out for a while."

"At least he's alive," Prime said gently, giving his friend one last worried glance, before looking to the rest of his team. "Ratchet, do what you can for him. Everyone else, with me. We hunt this thing down, and we kill it once and for all. Move out!"

O o O o O

It had been over an hour since the search had begun. Not long after they had entered the ACC, Prime's team had met up with another group of Autobots that were already arranging defences against their attacker in one of the conference chambers, led by Grimlock and the Dinobots. The Dinobot commander was another one of the few who had survived Slipstream the first time around, and the normally stoic warrior had seemed genuinely afraid of the vampire... or as afraid as he ever got, anyway. The idea of anything scaring Grimlock enough to get a reaction had chilled Rodimus in turn, and it was with a growing sense of dread that he had led the Autobots into their search.

Prime crept up to a corridor junction, moving with almost aching slowness in an effort to remain completely silent. In the last few days, he had read everything he could find about Slipstream and his abilities. While hard information was in desperately short supply, the stories about the creature stated that he had enhanced senses, able to see and hear far better than a normal mech. It could just be rumour, of course, but Rodimus was taking no chances. Clutching his rifle close to his chest, spark pulsing rapidly, he quickly glanced around the corner, ensuring that there was nobody within easy reach of his position. Seeing the way was clear, he then followed through, bringing his weapon to bear and covering his own quiet advance.

In the flickering emergency lighting, the smoke-haunted corridor was alive with shadows, but no actual movement. Prime stayed alert, scanning the hallway carefully before moving forward once more. He was on the nineteenth floor, just a short distance from his office. Rodimus and his team had found three other victims that were still alive, though they were all in deep stasis lock. He had left them all in the care of Ratchet and Jazz, and now he was leading the rest of his team into the warren of corridors and chambers that made up his home. As the search had widened, the team had been forced to split into smaller and smaller groups. Before too long, Prime had found himself alone.

At least, he was sure he was alone. More than once, he had thought that he had heard something, or caught sight of some movement in the smoke. Sometimes, his long range sensors picked up signals on the very edge of their range, but moments later the traces were gone. Prime knew that he was nowhere near any of his friends, as he was keeping track of them via his tactical computer. The nearest friendly icon was Hound, one floor down, and about thirty metres away. But still, the feeling of not being entirely alone was hard to shift. On top of that, Prime was beginning to get the creeping, frightening sensation that he was, in fact, being watched...

O o O o O

Prime was close. Slipstream could practically smell him, and the sensation was both heady and nauseating. He had been stalking Prime for near fifteen minutes now, watching from a distance through the smoke as his quarry searched in turn for him. The air was thick with tension; Prime knew he was being hunted, Slipstream had seen to that. He had taken great pains to stay just out of sight, letting Prime get a glimpse of him here and there, or powering up just enough of his systems to show up on his opponent's sensors from time to time, if only for a second.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, something was bugging Slipstream about his prey. Prime seemed different, but Slipstream couldn't place why... after a few moments more, the vampire simply allowed himself a quiet growl of annoyance at himself. He was being paranoid, he decided; coming so far, getting so close, he was letting his fear of failing at the last cloud his judgement. It was Prime. Slipstream had seen the Matrix in his prey's chest, his altered vision easily cutting through the murky atmosphere, letting him see the power source pulsing at Prime's core.

Creeping forward, Slipstream began to approach Prime. As he got closer, Prime's silhouette began to become clearer through the smoke, and Slipstream almost laughed out loud as he found that the fool was looking in entirely the wrong direction. He could attack now, fast and brutal, and to extinguish Prime's spark in as violent a fashion as possible, before he even knew that Slipstream was there, would be simplicity itself. The thought was tempting, he had to admit, but what he had in mind for his nemesis was so much more appealing...

O o O o O

Prime stopped moving, sure he had heard something moving nearby. He strained his audios, boosting the gain as much as possible, and began to turn slowly, his optics running through every spectrum they could see in an effort to penetrate the gloom. He couldn't see anything more than a few metres in front of himself. The feeling of being watched had grown stronger again, and the idea that Slipstream was close by sent a chill down Rodimus' dorsal column. He was just starting to believe that it was just his imagination, and had started to calm down a little, when he saw movement on the edge of his vision.

That was all the warning he got. An instant later, Prime's world filled with pain as something hit him in the side, throwing him from his feet. Prime landed hard on his right side, jarring his joints painfully. Before he could recover, Slipstream was on him. Prime lashed out with his left arm, and felt his fist make contact, throwing off his assailant. A second later, and Slipstream was back, landing heavily on Prime's chest and pinning him down. Sharp, claw-like fingers gripped Prime's chest-plate, and he found himself staring into the deep red optics of the beast himself.

What he saw there could almost have been fear. Slipstream was staring back at him, his expression a wild mixture of emotions ranging from shock to confusion to raw, unbridled rage. For a moment, the vampire's attack faltered, and Rodimus made good use of the creature's confusion. He grabbed hold of him with both hands, and threw him bodily from his chest. He followed quickly with a kick to the vampire's mid-section, drawing both his legs up to his chest and lashing out with all his strength. Slipstream was launched several metres down the corridor he had attacked from, allowing Prime a moment to regain his footing.

"You aren't Prime," Slipstream hissed at him, already upright, glaring at Prime with a depth of hatred that the Autobot hadn't felt aimed at him in years... not since he had first faced Galvatron, deep inside Unicron's body. The confusion was gone from Slipstream's face, replaced by rage in its purest form.

"He's cheated me," the vampire said, his voice rising almost hysterically. "After all this time, he's cheated me. But not for long... where is he? WHERE IS HE?"

Slipstream launched himself forward then, his optics blazing even brighter than before. Rodimus readied himself to fight back, but found himself struggling to move. Slipstream threw Prime backward, pinning him against the wall, all the while boring into Prime's blue optics with his own. With a mixture of fear and frustration, Prime found that he couldn't look away, couldn't fight back, and he didn't have the first clue why. Slipstream had his hand around Prime's throat, and was studying his face up close.

"Who are you?" the monster asked, his voice echoing oddly from his vocaliser. "Why has Prime given you the Matrix? It's too risky a move, just to lure me out. Answer me."

"I'm... I'm Prime," Rodimus said, his voice barely above a whisper, and entirely out of his control. No matter what he tried, his body just wouldn't respond. "My name is Rodimus Prime."

"Two Primes?" Slipstream hissed, moving his face even closer to the commander's. "Impossible. Tell me the truth! Where is Optimus?"

"Optimus... Optimus died, years ago," Rodimus gasped, fighting with all his strength against Slipstream's mental control. Slipstream could feel him working free of his grip, and reinforced his new gift in return.

"You're lying!" he all but roared. The idea that this impostor might be telling the truth stung Slipstream, and left him feeling hollow inside. He could not, would not, believe it. He pushed again, harder, his control stretching to its limits."He can't be dead, I won't believe it. Tell me the truth."

Prime felt despair like he hadn't known for an age. He couldn't move, he couldn't fight back, he wasn't in control of his own voice even, and Slipstream's hand was slowly tightening around his throat. He was going to die, that much was for certain. He tried to bring his arms up again, fighting with all his reserves. He wouldn't lay down and die without a fight, no matter what strange abilities Slipstream possessed. And it was at that moment that he felt a stirring in his chest.

Prime felt the Matrix pulsing in its shell, felt its strength beginning to fill his body, and gave a silent prayer to Primus in thanks. He grabbed onto the feeling suffusing his core, and used it to fight back against Slipstream's control. Slowly, he felt the vampire's control breaking... and if the monster's expression was anything to go by, he could feel the change too.

"I am Rodimus Prime," he growled, finally moving freely, if slowly, reaching up and grabbing Slipstream by the chest plate. "I won't let you cause any more harm. You couldn't defeat Optimus, you son of a glitch, and you aren't taking me either!"

With that, Prime fired his wrist-mounted blasters. At such close range, they punched clean through Slipstream's chassis and out of his back. Slipstream gasped in shock and pain, releasing his grip on Prime's throat, and as he did so Prime pushed him backward just enough that he could deliver a crushing kick to the smaller mech's chest. Slipstream sailed backward, and landed awkwardly. This didn't slow him down for long, though.

Using his backward momentum, Slipstream rolled until most of his weight was held on his shoulders. When his body was almost completely upside-down, he kicked out with both legs, flipping himself lightly back onto his feet. He landed in a crouch, his lithe body coiled like a spring, and he hissed violently at Prime, his fangs glinting dangerously in the light. Rodimus, to his horror, could already see the six holes he had inflicted on Slipstream beginning to close over. Knowing that he had to end the conflict quickly, he fired again.

Slipstream was too fast. The vampire sprang up and to his left, impacting against the wall with a resounding clang, before engaging his jets and launching himself back toward Prime. He attacked with all of his strength, unleashing power that should have been impossible for a mech his size, and drove into Prime like a mag-train. The pair crashed against the wall with such force that the metacrete surface gave way, and in a shower of dust and debris the combatants found themselves landing on the floor of the room beyond – Prime's personal office.

Slipstream was up first, loosing a deafening screech at his opponent before charging back into the fray. Rodimus, on his feet barely a moment later, almost didn't react in time. He surged up and forward, and managed to grab Slipstream as he attacked. Prime knew he had to keep the initiative, and so did the first thing he could think of. He drove his forehead into Slipstream's faceplate, and quickly followed by driving his knee into the flyer's middle, doubling him over. Before Slipstream could rally, Prime gathered his strength and lifted Slipstream bodily, before hurling him across the office, toward the window.

Slipstream remained still, and Prime began to wonder just how much damage he had done. He trained his weapons on the vampire's form, daring the beast to move. For a long, aching moment, nothing happened. Then Prime heard the last sound he could ever have wanted to hear. Laughter. It started quietly at first, but rapidly became louder, bubbling around the room like water. Slowly, Slipstream stood up, facing away from Rodimus. The atmosphere in the previously sealed room was quite clear compared to the corridor outside, and so Prime could clearly make out Slipstream's reflection smirking at him from the window.

"You really aren't Optimus," the vampire said, his rich, deep voice coloured with something like humour. It also struck Prime briefly that the vampire spoke with a faintly British accent, which only served to make his tone sound colder still. "He never would have head-butted someone." The reflection smiled almost warmly, as Slipstream reached up with one hand and traced his fingertips across a quickly-healing dent above his left optic.

"Who killed him? Optimus, I mean." The question was posed in such a tone that Rodimus felt sure he heard remorse there, though over what he didn't dare to guess.

"He died fighting Megatron, and saving his colleagues," Prime replied, fierce pride swelling his spark at the memory. Optimus had fought like a legend that day, a sight that Rodimus would never forget.

"A shame," Slipstream said, sounding almost wistful, and more than a little disappointed. "We had unfinished business, he and I." The vampire turned slowly, and fixed Rodimus with an ice-cold glare.

"I guess I'll just have to exact my revenge against that which he loved best. And I think, my dear Prime, that I'll be starting with you..."


Author's Notes: Hardcase is mine, in case you were wondering.

Sorry this took so long to update. Writer's block can be a killer, can't it? Still, at least it makes up for time spent with quantity... wether that's a good thing, I'll leave for you to decide.

I'm not massively happy with the chapter, so it may end up being edited at some point before chapter seven gets posted. Until then, this will have to do, as I can't think what to do with the darned thing next.

Oh well, onto the next chapter... eventually!