Slipstream: Resurrection
Chapter Eleven
A Song for Absolution
"All units, fall back on my position, stay in formation where possible. For the love of Primus, keep firing!"
Roaring orders and encouragements to his soldiers, weapons running to white-hot, Ultra Magnus stood at the centre of the remains of the Autobot forces. There were few of the Autobots left now; twenty minutes had passed after Prime had left the field to hunt down Slipstream, twenty minutes of taking the fight to a foe that refused to simply lay down and die, regardless of the damage they had taken. At first, it had seemed as though the Autobots could win this last battle; Prime's orders to incapacitate rather than kill the vampire drones hadn't hampered them too much, and their tactics had seemed to be working. Now, though, it was a different story.
The Autobots had fought their way through the morass of enemies to the vast entrance to the factory, but had found the massive cybertronium doors locked and barred. As the Autobots began to lose momentum, more and more began to fall to Slipstream's forces, while more of the enemy shrugged off their wounds and returned to the fight. Magnus knew that unless they could somehow get into the factory, and rob the drones of the advantage of an open field, then they were surely lost. Deep down, it was a price he was willing to pay; if he could buy time for Prime to finish off the vampire once and for all, then it was worth the cost. Around him, the grim features and hard-set jaws of his comrades told Ultra Magnus that in turn, they would make these twisted creatures pay dearly for every one of them that fell.
As Magnus returned his attention to the battle, his optics momentarily locked with those of one of the mechs nearest him, Scattershot. Magnus didn't know the young scientist very well, let alone any of his team, the Technobots. What he saw there, though, both worried and impressed him. There was a depth of resolve in the youngster's gaze, a look of acceptance that instantly told Magnus just what the gestalt leader had decided. With a brief nod of recognition, Scattershot turned away from the commander, and began yelling orders to his team-mates. Before he could say anything to dissuade Scattershot, Magnus was distracted for a few moments by a fresh wave of enemy reinforcements. The threat dealt with, he turned back just in time to see the last moments of the Technobots' transformation.
Computron rose to his full height, surveying the battlefield for a moment with a keen intelligence that was uncommon amongst his gestalt kin. Almost immediately, the giant mech became the focus of attention for the vampires, and the main bulk of their forces began to direct their fire against him. Ignoring them all, Computron turned his colossal frame to face the factory doors. Digging massive fingers into the framework of the portal, and taking firm hold, the combined Autobot began to pull with all of his considerable might. At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then, with a deafening screech of tearing and buckling metal, the doors were pulled free of their moorings. With a grunt of effort that sounded like a roar to the embattled mechs below, Computron turned and lifted the massive slabs of metal above his head, before hurling them into the enemy ranks, wreaking carnage amongst the vampire forces.
The Technobots had been given express orders to stay out of their gestalt form for as long as possible. The idea of the vampires corrupting a whole, giant mech in one go was too horrifying to consider, especially with Superion and Defensor out of commission. So it was with a rising sense of concern that Magnus watched Computron turn to face the enemy lines once more. He sent a closed-signal message to the Technobots, ordering them to separate, but the message was rebuffed. The giant looked down to Magnus, that sad finality he had seen in Scattershot's gaze now writ large on the giant's features. Computron was famous for over-analysing every eventuality... if he had come to the decision Ultra Magnus now feared, then maybe the Autobots were in worse shape than even he guessed.
"Computron!" Magnus yelled, turning to face the gestalt behemoth. "Stand down at once. That's an order!"
"Computron is unable to comply," came the deep, monolithic reply, the tone one of finality and acceptance. "Autobot chances of survival are only three point one-five percent. A distraction will grant a thirty-two percent increase on those chances. A sacrifice is required."
"Computron, NO!" Magnus yelled, looking desperately for any way to stop the Technobot as he took one giant step forward, followed quickly by another. The giant's mind was set, though, and there would be no getting through to him, short of opening fire on the gestalt mech himself. As the giant took the fight to the vampires, Magnus could only offer a brief, silent prayer to Primus for the brave warrior's sparks, before ordering the retreat into the factory that Computron's sacrifice had bought.
O o O o O
Rodimus Prime awoke to a world of fire and pain. As he came around, and his optics came back on-line, he could feel the incredible heat of the smelting pool below him washing over his body. Everything was bathed in a deep, fiery glow, and as Prime took in his surroundings he came to realise just how lucky he had been. He was laying on a narrow gantry suspended above the pit, and through the gaps in the walkway he could see that he was barely fifty metres above a lake of roiling, plasma-heated metal ore. As he moved, every sensor and system in his body screamed in pain, and Prime found himself fighting the urge to simply slip into a stasis lock, to submit to the encroaching, welcoming dark.
The sound of scraping metal a short distance away snapped Prime back to the here and now. Forcing himself to move, he grit his dental plates and rolled onto his side, pushing himself upward as fast as he could manage. Prime heard more sounds of movement, and turned his head painfully to find the source. Slipstream was close, not more than a few metres distant, and it was with some small satisfaction that Prime noticed that the vampire seemed to be in as bad a state as he was. The son of a glitch can be hurt, Prime thought to himself. That's something, at least. With a surge of effort, fighting the urge to voice his pain, Prime stood and brought himself into a fighting stance.
Slipstream was up just a moment later. Bringing himself to his full height, which still left the vampire a full head shorter than Prime, Slipstream rolled his shoulder joints once to clear them, then did the same with his neck bearings. Once settled, he relaxed his stance and powered up his optics, levelling a steady gaze at Rodimus. Prime glared back, waiting for his quarry to make the first move, every servo in his body twitching with coiled energy. A mixture of emotions were dancing across Slipstream's features - anger, fear, hatred, contempt – as he regarded Prime. Eventually, just as Rodimus began to feel that the tension would kill him before Slipstream could, Slipstream spoke.
"Why do you fight, Prime?" he hissed, taking one slow, almost languid step forward. "You can't win, you don't deserve to defeat me. You're half the mech Optimus was; you aren't worthy of his legacy."
"Why do I fight?" Prime countered. "I fight because it's the right thing to do. I fight because you would destroy everything that is good in this world. I can't let you live, Slipstream."
"Interesting," Slipstream hissed, breaking into a savage grin that was full of pure malice, "I was just thinking something similar about you. You've ceased to amuse me, Rodimus. Now, it's time for you to die."
With a roar that drowned out the noise of the furnace below, Slipstream surged forward, fangs bared and clawed hands outstretched. Prime counter charged, firing his blasters wildly and yelling his own battle-cry. The two collided with massive force, and the fight for Cybertron's very soul began anew.
Prime and Slipstream were a blur of savage movement; thunderous blows and vicious kicks were traded in a hurricane of strikes and counter-strikes, parries and wild lunges. The ringing of metal striking metal sounded across the foundry, matched only by the furious voices of the two warriors, roaring in fury at one another, bitter cries of pure hatred mingling with oaths of righteous vengeance, in a rising tide of clashing sound. They twisted and turned, using what little space the gantry afforded to full effect, loosing weapons where they could, and using brute force to beat one another down in between. Every time Slipstream began to get the upper hand, Rodimus tapped into new depths of strength, letting the Matrix feed him, pushing himself ever harder, desperation fuelling his every move. The maelstrom of combat seemed to last forever to Prime, though in reality it was probably no more than a few minutes.
O o O o O
Taking control of the factory had bought the Autobots more time, but by Ultra Magnus' best estimate, not much. His forces had withdrawn into the building just a short way, using as much cover as they could, but not going too deep; the vampires knew this place better than they did, and to take the fight onto their home territory would be tantamount to suicide. Instead, Magnus had split his remaining forces into fire teams, covering the factory entrance with multiple, overlapping lanes of fire, and forcing the creatures into a bottleneck.
The advantage didn't last long. The animal instinct of the creatures soon gave way to common sense, and the attack faltered; Magnus could only assume that they were now looking for an alternate entrance to the building, in the hope of outflanking the entrenched Autobots. He was standing near the rear of the vast hallway, close to a set of service doors that led onto one of the factory's main production lines and the machinery beyond, when the silence that had descended was finally shattered.
As a series of wailing klaxons split the air, and a nearby beacon began to flash, Magnus immediately began barking orders to his soldiers, while turning on the spot, looking for an attack from any direction. No attack came. Instead, the heavy doors that separated the production line from the main hall began to rise, and the conveyor belt beneath it began to slowly come to life. Backing slowly away, all of his weapons trained on the aperture, Magnus clenched his teeth and waited for whatever new horror Slipstream had left for them. What he saw exiting from the darkness of the production assembly bay beyond the door made the energon freeze in his conduits.
It was huge. A massive, hulking shape rolled down the conveyor, and it was with a mounting sense of horror that Ultra Magnus realised that the thing was crouching... it was already at least as big as he was, and it wasn't even standing at its full height. The thing was brutally built; the strobing amber light of the warning beacon cast odd, dancing shadows along a myriad sharp edges and unnatural, twisted angles, bathing its dull hide in a sickly yellow-grey hue. The conveyor ground to a halt, and before Magnus could gather the wits to move, let alone issue orders, a pair of small, violet optics powered on, and the hulking creature turned its slab-like head to face him. A deep, resonant growl echoed from its vocaliser, and it slowly opened its maw, revealing row after row of glistening, razor-sharp teeth, whilst issuing a low, dangerous hiss.
"FIRE EVERYTHING!" Ultra Magnus all but screamed the order, while launching both of his shoulder mounted missiles, and opening fire with his ion rifle. Around him, almost two dozen sets of weaponry opened fire simultaneously, unleashing enough firepower to vaporise almost anything short of a gestalt. The bolts screamed toward their target, bright lances of ravening death filling the air with shrill screams, and striking the target with almost perfect accuracy. On any other day, Magnus would have felt proud of the speed of his warriors' reactions. Today, he didn't have time... because the target was no longer there. Instead, the production line doors were destroyed, along with most of the conveyor system.
With terrifying speed, the creature had unfurled itself, launching itself from its position on the conveyor and across the room in a series of long, sinuous strides. It was so fast that most of the Autobots had only barely seen the creature as it moved. Bumblebee, standing with Hoist and Cliffjumper, didn't see the creature coming at all, until it was standing right next to him. Before he could properly register its appearance, one of its powerful paws had struck him squarely in the face, shattering his jaw and sending him flying backwards, crashing through a knot of pipes and other equipment.
Without stopping, the beast stooped, grabbing Cliffjumper by the ankle and lifting him from his feet, before spinning hard, and using the smaller mech to club Hoist from his feet. It loosed a high, whistling screech, terrifyingly reminiscent of its creator, and then it was on the move once more. Every move it made brought destruction down on the Autobots, who were all but rendered helpless in the face of the creature's power. As the beast slammed through Blurr, and closed with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, Ultra Magnus ordered a full retreat. Any mechferatu hiding in the factory be damned, he thought, as he turned and led his surviving forces into the tunnels and corridors of the factory. I'll take a dozen of them in place of this thing any day.
O o O o O
Suddenly deprived of its prey, watching as the inferior creatures fled into the hallways of the building like frightened rodents, the beast felt almost cheated. This, in turn, quickly gave rise to a new level of rage, which the beast quickly vented on the nearest fallen Autobot. Discarding the broken shell moments later, it stalked forward, eager to begin the hunt. It's senses, far more powerful than any predator yet to walk the face of Cybertron, were singing with information; it could practically taste the energon running through their conduits, hear the beat of each individual spark as it raced into the cool, dark corridors. A deep, animal growl forming in its vocaliser, the beast plunged after them.
It found and caught the first three with such ease that it was almost pitiful... if its processor had ever been designed to feel such a weak emotion as pity, which it hadn't. Allowing itself a few brief moments to savour the agonized screams of its prey, the beast managed to fight down the instinctual desire to feed. Feeding could come later; for now, these prey-creatures were enemies. Somewhere, at the back of its mind, a small yet insistent voice was telling it to stop the prey before they could harm its master. Nothing could be allowed to do that. A quick search of its surroundings showed a nearby cluster of energon signatures heading away from the beast, toward the heart of the factory. With a snarl, the beast moved onward once more.
It hunted down three more groups of Autobots in the same fashion, when it finally found Ultra Magnus. The creature had been less than stealthy in its approach, and as it rounded a corner and came faceplate to faceplate with the largest prey creature yet, it walked straight into a concentrated stream of fire. Behind the weapons fire, the beast realised that it recognised this enemy; it had been ordering the others. This made it smile... finally, the beast had found an opponent that might give it a real fight. Shrugging off the shots like rainwater, bellowing furiously, the beast ran forward, eating up the distance between Magnus and itself with long, loping strides.
Seeing the speed with which his target was approaching, Ultra Magnus decided that standing where he was would be all but suicidal. Pulling a photon grenade out of subspace and hurling it down the corridor, Magnus turned and ran, ignoring the rain of debris that pattered against his back as he began to run. An idea had been forming in Magnus' mind, a possible way to kill this new abomination before it could be unleashed on Cybertron at large. Now, with the creature so close behind him, the idea blossomed into life. He was near one of the two main smelting rooms within the factory, just two corridors away from the edge of the chamber. Not stopping to look back, Magnus poured on as much speed as he could manage, while pulling another grenade from storage.
Magnus rounded a corner, then another, and found himself facing another cross junction. According to his sensors, the wall facing him was now the nearest entrance to the furnaces. Hurling the grenade ahead of him, not waiting to let it detonate safely, Magnus ran straight at the wall. The creature was just a few feet behind Magnus as, with a hollow whump the grenade collapsed the section of wall. Magnus smashed into the debris, felt the scrape of claws across his back, and then threw himself hard to the left. Howling in pain, Magnus landed hard, barely sliding to a halt before he slid over the edge of the smelting pool.
The creature was not so lucky. It had built up too much momentum, had been too intent on reaching its prey, and simply couldn't stop. Realising its mistake far too late, feeling the sudden wave of deadly, infernal heat, the creature could do nothing but scream in fury as it shot out over the edge of the pool. The scream intensified into one of pain a second later, as the creature hit the molten surface of the pit. Thrashing wildly, howling like one of the damned, the creature slowly descended into the liquid metal, its violet optics glaring accusation and hatred 'til the last.
As the last screams died away, Magnus finally allowed himself a sigh of relief, and collapsed onto his back. Looking up, past a set of observation gantries toward the high vaulted ceiling of the chamber. What he saw there instantly washed away every shred of the sense of victory he had been feeling...
O o O o O
Prime couldn't last forever. After what seemed to be an age of endless fighting, Prime was all but spent, his reserves almost completely used up; he knew in his spark that he was going to die, but he had nothing more to give. It was just a matter of how he died, now, not when, and whether or not he could take Slipstream down with him. Every move bringing a fresh burst of searing agony, tired beyond belief, he swung his right fist at Slipstream in what should have been a shattering cross, attempting to force his opponent back, desperate for any respite. The strike was just a micron too slow, though, and with tireless speed, Slipstream ducked, dropping to the floor. Without stopping, the vampire executed a hand-spring, bringing his body around and driving his legs upward with all of his strength. The kick made contact with Prime just below his chest plate, and launched him backward. The Autobot crashed to the deck, sliding to a halt with his head and shoulders hanging over the gantry edge. Before he could move, Slipstream was on him, leaning heavily on his chest and wrapping his hands around Prime's throat.
"I'm going to make you pay for your insolence, Prime," the vampire roared, madness glowing in his optics. "I'm going to make you beg for mercy, make you scream for forgiveness from me, for having the gall to stand in my way! Scream for me, Prime. Scream me a sweet song for your absolution!"
The world was turning grey for Prime. Almost all of his energy was gone, the pain was incredible, and as Slipstream choked the energon flow to his processor away with unending strength, he found that an odd whistling was filling his audio receptors. A series of minuscule pops and clicks warned that if he was allowed to continue, Slipstream would most likely tear Prime's head free of his shoulders before he could strangle him to death. Far away, Prime was only dimly aware of some kind of commotion below, somewhere near the edge of the infernal pool, the heat of which was still scorching his back...
The idea struck home like a bolt of lightning. Prime knew what he had to do, and found that he was past caring about the implications of what had to come next. Before he could think on it properly, before any of what he had just realised could cross his features and warn Slipstream, or he could talk himself out of it, he acted. With the last of his ebbing strength, Prime raised his hands and grabbed hold of the vampire's light frame, before driving upwards with both arms and his right knee. The sudden move had exactly the right effect; Slipstream, with his weight balanced over his victim – all the better to watch the light drain from his eyes – overbalanced and tipped forward. Slipstream fell through the flimsy railing of the walkway, and for a second, he was suspended out over the smelting pool, only Prime's weight keeping him in place.
Slipstream had just enough time to loose a piercing scream, before his momentum carried Prime over the edge with him, and gravity finally took hold. Almost in slow motion, the world turned upside down, and then they were falling, picking up speed, careening uncontrolled toward the furnace below. The world rushed past them, and for the last few seconds of his existence Slipstream found that it wasn't fear that filled his mind, but anger. Not anger that he was about to die for the second time in his life, not anger that all of his plans were crumbling around him, that his rise to power had been halted in its infancy. It was far simpler than any of that... he was angry that, for the second time, he was about to die staring into the damned, blue optics of a Prime...
O o O o O
Ultra Magnus could do nothing but watch in mute horror as the scene above him unfolded. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, as first Slipstream, then Prime, began to fall from the gantry. The vampire screamed, a hideously drawn-out wail of purest hatred mingling with notes of terror and loss, and then they were falling, falling toward their fiery doom, wrapped in a deathly embrace. Ultra Magnus rolled onto his knees, searching frantically for any way to stop his commander's descent, but there was nothing, no way to save Prime. Feeling his spark shudder in his chest, Magnus watched as the two mechs dropped into the pool, instantly disappearing beneath the surface. It was over. Slipstream was dead...and so was Rodimus Prime. Ultra Magnus couldn't believe it. A soft, whispered 'No' escaped his vocaliser, and he simply slumped, hanging his head in sorrow.
Without warning, a shape broke the surface of the pool, not far from the edge. Glowing from within, his plating twisted almost beyond recognition, Rodimus Prime roared with what seemed to be a mixture of fury and unimaginable pain. He looked like he had come straight from the Pit of Unmaking, an avatar of fiery retribution sent to destroy all who would endanger Cybertron. Broken, lightless optics locked unerringly with Magnus', as Prime began hauling himself toward the pool's edge. Coming to his senses, Magnus moved forward and reached for his friend, ready to help him out of the molten slag.
Prime began to flounder, and Magnus only barely managed to grab hold of Rodimus' arm. Biting back a scream of pain as the super-heated metal scorched his hand, Magnus pulled with all of his strength, and dragged Rodimus to relative safety. Up close, Magnus could see the damage that had been done, and he wondered at how it was possible for Prime to still be alive. Through a rent in the commander's chest plate, a faint, blueish light caught his optics, giving him the answer. It had to have been the Matrix of Leadership, the only object that could have saved Prime.
"It will light our darkest hour," Ultra Magnus breathed, still unable to comprehend what he was seeing. His training took over, and Magnus sent a message to any surviving Autobots, requesting assistance. There was nothing more he could do for Prime, save to pray that either First Aid or Ratchet were still in one piece. As that thought crossed his mind, the last sound he could ever want to hear filled his world.
Slipstream's trademark screech rent the air, and Magnus looked up in time to see the vampire moving slowly toward him. The heat of the furnace was taking its toll; arcs of energon were running over Slipstream's armour, as his altered frame fought to stay whole. Baleful, crimson optics glared at Magnus and Prime as, inch by painful inch, the vampire made his way toward them. Ultra Magnus glared back, a tide of revulsion for the monster before him washing through his spark.
"Won't you ever die, you sorry b..." Ultra Magnus voice was drowned out by the sounds of heavy weapons fire, as Springer led a team of Autobots through the hole Magnus had made in the wall, guns blazing. The torrent of fire, quickly added to by Ultra Magnus, pushed Slipstream back, holding him at bay.
Long moments passed, more and more damage showing on Slipstream's form. Magnus didn't see who fired the killing shot. A single round penetrated Slipstream's chest, piercing his spark chamber. The energon streams crawling across the vampire's body slowed, then stopped. His optics dimmed, then turned dark, and then with slow finality he fell backward, disappearing below the surface for the last time. As he did so, a high, ghostly wail swept across the Autobots, followed by a blinding wave of energy. The wave screamed through the walls and was gone in an instant, and it was with a mixture of surprise and relief that the Autobots found that there had been no ill effects from the strange blast. The beep of a comms unit broke the silence that followed.
"Ultra Magnus, this is Silverbolt." The Aerialbot commander sounded stressed, and confused beyond reason. "Something weird is going on down here. What was with the light show?"
"I wish I knew," was Magnus tense reply. "What do you mean by weird, 'Bolt?"
"Just that," Silverbolt said after a second. "One minute, we're neck deep in vampire drones, the next this energy wave hits everything. Our guys are untouched, but the drones... the drones have just... stopped. All of them just dropped into stasis lock, sir. Whatever you did, it worked. It's finally over."
As the comm link closed, Ultra Magnus heaved a sigh of relief. It was over... this whole, Primus-damned nightmare was finally over. The Autobots had won; Rodimus Prime had won. Slipstream was gone, his body destroyed, and Cybertron was once more safe. But looking down at the broken, half-dead form of his friend and commander, Ultra Magnus had to wonder just what price victory had cost them...
Author's Notes: There, it's finally done. Well, almost... there's still the epilogue to go, but by comparison to this monster, that should be a breeze. I'll leave the closing comments and dedications until then.
Please review! Reviews are wonderful things, and they make the world go 'round (contrary to popular belief, gravity has nothing to do with it!) I'd love to hear what ya think. Thanks for reading!
