Slipstream: Chronicles

Chapter Two

Epiphanies

Sideswipe sat next to his brother's bed, desperately fighting the urge to start a recharge cycle. It had been the same for five days now. Since Sunstreaker had been found unconscious at his post, the Ark had become a hive of activity, every available Autobot searching for his attacker. But not Sideswipe. It wasn't that he didn't want to; every last fibre in his being sang with the urge to hunt his twin's attacker down and make them pay.

But at the same time, he felt that he couldn't leave his brother. He had always looked up to Sunstreaker; he had always been so strong, so brave. Seeing him now, lying helpless in the med-bay, Sideswipe felt a protectiveness for his sibling far stronger than any he had experienced before. He could not, would not leave Sunstreaker's side, just as he knew his brother would not leave his.

That didn't mean that Sideswipe wasn't tired, though. He had barely eaten or recharged since the attack, and it was getting harder to stay awake. To keep himself lucid, Sideswipe tried to imagine what Sunstreaker would say if he could see him now. The image that came to mind was that of Sunstreaker telling Sideswipe to stop being such a frakking femme-bot. The thought made the younger mech smile to himself; Sunny had always had a way with words.

Sideswipe leaned forward, taking his brother's hand in his own and moving in closer to Sunstreaker's head. He squeezed his twin's hand gently, and whispered his name. Sunstreaker didn't respond. Sideswipe tried again, a little louder this time, but the result was the same. Sighing deeply, Sideswipe sat back in his chair again. Ten minutes passed, then for what seemed like the hundredth time, he felt his head nod forward, and the world went dark.

"Hey, lil' bro."

Sideswipe's head snapped up, his optics focusing on the source of the sound. A quick check of his internal chronometer told him that he had been in recharge mode for nearly an hour. Sunstreaker was awake, his head rolled to one side so that he could see his brother. He smiled weakly as 'Swipe met his gaze.

"How long have I been out?" Sunstreaker asked, sounding even weaker than he looked.

"Nearly six days," Sideswipe said softly, moving closer to his twin. "You had me worried."

"You been here the whole time?" Sunny asked, looking concerned. "You look like de-natured cydraulic primer."

"Gee, thanks," Sideswipe growled, picturing the greenish, viscous material and shuddering slightly. "You always did know just what to say to cheer me up."

"What can I say? It's a gift," Sunny grinned. Sideswipe grinned along with him for a while, but before long the smile slipped.

"Do you remember anything about the attack?" he asked, concern creasing his features.

"Not much," Sunstreaker answered, losing his own smile altogether. A completely non-Sunstreaker-like expression of fear passed over his face as he tried to remember. "I just remember seeing these red optics coming toward me, some pain, then waking up here. I don't think I even had enough time to put up a fight. Sorry."

"Don't be," 'Swipe murmured, shifting in his seat. "Listen, Sunny, I'm gonna have to go and get someone. Ratchet should know that you're up, and Prime asked me to check in as well. I think they're going to want to question you." Sideswipe stood up, gave his brother's hand one last squeeze, and headed for the door. When he heard Sunstreaker call his name, he spun around, worry showing in his optics.

"Thanks, little brother," Sunstreaker said, using a term for 'Swipe that the red mech hadn't heard for a very long time. And then his optics went dark. Sideswipe felt a surge of panic for a moment, fearing the worst, but then realised that Sunstreaker had just slipped into recharge. Breathing a sigh of relief, he turned once more, and headed to make his report.

O o O o O

"Hey, buddy, how's it going?"

Axcell stood up as Slipstream approached the table where he, Bumblebee and Seaspray were sitting, clapping the young flyer on the back. The two other mech's both greeted him warmly, and Slipstream sat down in a free seat that Axcell pulled out for him.

"I'm fine guys, really," he said, answering his three friends' enquiring gazes. "I'm still a bit tired, but Ratchet says I'm going to be fine. I just got back off of my first half-shift."

"Looks like you could do with this, then!" 'Bee said, passing Slipstream a full energon cube. "So, umm... do you remember what happened? At the space-bridge?"

"No, not really," Slipstream said quietly, his smile dropping a little. He stared down into his energon container and the pinkish liquid within, swirling it around as he thought about his answer. "I remember the fight, then the explosion; lots of white light and noise, then blackness. The next thing I know, I'm waking up with Doc Hatchet leaning over me... I dunno which was scarier!" the flyer finished, grinning at the others. They laughed, and he joined them. Everything was returning to normal.

Slipstream took a mouthful from his glass, and swallowed the freshly warmed energon. Seconds later, his intake systems spasmed involuntarily, and he began to cough and splutter as his body performed a partial purge. Embarrassment was written all over his face-plate as he looked up into the worried optics of his friends. Slipstream wiped some of the spilled energon from his chin, and tried a smile.

"Are you okay?" Axcell asked, placing a hand on Slipstream's shoulder. "What happened? Open the wrong valve or something?"

"I don't know," Slipstream managed to mumble, suddenly feeling less than himself. "I guess I'm not as fully recovered as Ratchet thought..."

O o O o O

Optimus Prime sat in front of Teletran-One, deep in thought. Things had been quiet for six days now, since Sunstreaker's attack, in fact. There hadn't even been any registered Decepticon activity, which was unusual in itself. As a result, Prime felt tense. He wasn't feeling as angry as he had been in the aftermath of the events at the space-bridge, but the memory of how he had felt still haunted him. He could still feel the echo of that last, suicidal urge; it hadn't gone away as such, just become quieter, pushed into the background by more pressing matters. He remembered the feel of his blaster, which was now stored in sub-space, and somehow its presence felt strangely comforting.

For six days, the Autobots had been on high alert, searching for any sign of the mystery assailant that had left Sunstreaker next to dead. Teletran-One had been scanning the local area for any unrecognised energon signatures, and the Autobots had organised teams to search the Ark and the network of tunnels that ran through the mountain that surrounded them. The search had brought up nothing. Combined with the fact that Sunstreaker hadn't seen his attacker, the odds of finding the culprit were bordering on none at all.

Prime was snapped out of his reverie by someone calling his name, and he looked for the source. Spike Witwicky was making his way across the Ark's control room. He was carrying one of the books that the humans used for data storage. Even though they had been using computers for some time, books were still popular, which the Autobots in general found confusing. But then, humans were strange creatures. On the cover of the book, tucked under one of Spike's arms, Prime could make out the words 'Bram Stoker'. Optimus Prime was certain that he had no idea what a 'Bram Stoker' was, but he was sure that his human friend wouldn't have brought the book without a reason.

"Hi, Optimus," Spike called up to the massive Autobot, as he jogged over to where he stood. "Great news about Sunstreaker, huh?"

"Yes, it is. What can I do for you, Spike?" Prime replied, more than a little distracted.

"I think I might have an idea about what attacked Sunstreaker, sir," Spike said, waving the book slightly as if in explanation. Prime instantly started paying attention. He helped Spike climb up onto a chair, then waited patiently for the boy to continue.

"Optimus, have you ever heard the term 'vampire' before?" Spike asked. Prime shook his head.

"No, Spike, I'm afraid I haven't," Prime answered, puzzled as to what the young human was going on about.

"Well, it's a fictional type of monster," Spike said, whilst holding out the book for Optimus to take. "I brought this book, in case you wanted to get a better idea of what I'm talking about."

"Thank you, Spike, but what has fiction got to do with our current circumstances?"

By the time Spike had finished, Prime understood the reason for the comparison. For humans, the mythical vampire was a creature that looked human, but could only survive by ingesting the life-blood of other human beings. Hearing the description, Prime had been struck by a sudden realisation. He had thanked Spike for his suggestion, and immediately left to find Wheeljack.

O o O o O

"What do you think?" Prime asked the scientist. Wheeljack had just finished speed-reading the book, and was looking perplexed. "Could this be real?"

"I suppose," Wheeljack answered after a moment, "I mean, in theory, it could be true. As you know, normally Cybertronians can only ingest energon in its basic, processed form. After it enters a mech's body, the make-up of the energon changes. Not by a lot, but enough to make it useless to another mech without reprocessing. If a transformer had a fault that meant it could only take in energon after it has been consumed by another mech…"

"Then it could be classed as a vampire," Prime finished. "And it would have to find a way to feed."

"Pretty much. I mean, it's all theory at the moment, but it sounds plausible," Wheeljack agreed, rubbing the back of his head, a sign that he was troubled; the fact only made Optimus feel worse.

"Perfect," growled Prime. "That just leaves one question: why has it only struck once?"

"I don't know," Wheeljack sighed. He was in the process of leaning back in his chair in resignation, when he stopped. He sat forward sharply, his head looking away from Prime, as though listening to something.

"What is it, Wheeljack?" Prime asked, concerned.

"I don't know," Wheeljack said after a few moments. "For a second I thought I heard…"

A high pitched, keening wail cut through the air, stopping Wheeljack mid-sentence. The sound was utterly chilling, predatory and dangerous. To Prime's audio sensors, it sounded like something spawned straight from the Inferno. The shriek faded away mere moments after it started, only to be followed by a more conventional scream. It was a sound of pure terror.

"Something like that?" Prime asked, as the pair ran for the door.

O o O o O

Several corridors away, Optimus and Wheeljack found the source of the of the scream. The pair turned a corner, heading in the general direction of the mess hall, when they practically ran into a tight knot of Autobots, chattering in fast, low voices. The resultant hum was surprisingly loud. Prime could see immediately that they were all staring at something, but his view was being blocked. He knew in his gut what it was they were all looking at; the only question remaining was who the latest victim was.

"Autobots, stand aside!" Prime bellowed, having to raise his voice to make himself heard over the voices of the crowd. As the gathered Autobots obediently parted for their leader, Prime strode forward, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead. Every Autobot he passed looked at him with the same look in their eyes: fear. When he got to the front of the crowd, Prime understood why. What he saw was nothing less than a scene of pure carnage.

From the remains, Prime guessed that the victim had been Waverider; not that there was a lot to identify. Torn armour plates littered the corridor, and streaks of coolant and cydraulic fluids stained the walls, floor, and part of the ceiling. Most of her internal workings had been pulled loose or crushed; to Prime it looked as though something had punched straight through the poor female's chest plate and set off a small bomb in the cavity. Most disturbing of all, though, was her head. It was missing.

Ratchet and Pitstop were busy examining the remains, and Wheeljack moved to join them. As Prime watched, he noticed that Beachcomber was sitting on the floor a few metres away, sobbing quietly into his hands. Prime had heard that he and Waverider had become close over the past few weeks. Now, Prime could see the love that Beachcomber had felt, and his spark went out to him. Deciding that he would talk to Beachcomber later, he turned his attention back to Waverider's remains.

"What do you make of it?" Prime asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

"I'll need to run a few tests," Wheeljack replied, whilst picking up a piece of debris. "But what I've seen so far says that our 'vampire' is back. Look at this." Wheeljack held out the item for Prime to see.

"Power cable," Prime stated simply.

"And it's punctured in almost the exact same way as Sunstreaker's neck," Wheeljack finished.

"I took the liberty of checking Waverider's power cells," Ratchet said, moving to join the others. "They have been completely drained. There isn't even a residual static charge. What I don't understand, though, is the ferocity of the attack. Why was this attack so much more violent than the last?"

There was a moment's silence, as everyone present tried to think of a reason. No one seemed to be able to explain it. The attack had been so brutal, so animalistic, that it had left the Autobots lost for words. All, that is, except for Beachcomber.

"She fought back," he stated quietly, his voice catching between sobs. "This thing caught Sunstreaker by surprise, so it probably didn't see a need to kill him. But my Waverider, she had to have fought back. I heard her scream; she sounded like she was struggling. So it killed her, out of spite." Beachcomber staggered to his feet, and stared straight at Prime.

"We find this thing, and we kill it," he growled. "Before it kills another one of us."

O o O o O

The search began anew. Every available Autobot took part, pairing up and searching the Ark by sections. The attack on Waverider had everyone spooked, terrified even, and the general consensus was that they were all in danger until the predator was caught. Even Grimlock, for all his usual bravado, had admitted that he and the other Dinobots were concerned for their safety. This did absolutely nothing for the morale of the rest of the Autobots.

Once Prime was convinced that the Ark had been searched down to the last air duct, he ordered another search of the mountain tunnels. Some of the tunnels had been moved into by the Autobots already, and were being used for cargo storage. However, the whole mountain was honeycombed with a labyrinthine network of smaller tunnels, and to search them thoroughly was going to take time. By Wheeljack's reckoning, the mysterious intruder would probably not strike for another six days. Unfortunately, that estimate ran on the assumption that there was going to be a pattern to the attacks; without further information, though, the estimate was all they had.

Four days passed, and there had still been no sign of the attacker. Most of the tunnels had been searched by this point, and the ones that remained were so small that the search parties had to be split down to groups of two or three. Everyone was on edge; if Wheeljack's estimate was accurate, then the creature would strike again soon. Time was running out, and it was looking increasingly unlikely that they would find the attacker. Either that, or they were getting very close.

Slipstream, deemed fully recovered from his ordeal after the space-bridge incident by Ratchet, had joined in the search parties as often as he could. He was currently teamed up with Sludge, one of the Dinobots. The hulking mech was harmless enough, the young 'bot figured, but his sheer size made Slipstream feel nervous. Never having been the largest or strongest of 'bots, Slipstream had always felt a little awed amongst his larger colleagues.

Some of the tunnels that they had been assigned to search were a little too small for Sludge to fit into, and for brief periods Slipstream had been forced to creep forward on his own. He had been petrified, but he had still done it. After all, the monster, as the Autobots were beginning to refer to the attacker, had killed one of his friends and seriously injured another. Whilst he was scared for his own life, the sense of duty to his comrades that he felt completely overrode his urges for self preservation.

"Sludge no like tunnels," Sludge rumbled. He had been complaining like this for the best part of an hour, and Slipstream was no longer sure if the leviathan mech was addressing him, or simply talking to himself. Shrugging, he decided to answer anyway.

"I know, Sludge," he replied, trying to sound upbeat. "The tunnels aren't very nice. But just think, if we find the monster and bring it in, then we'll be heroes. Won't that be cool?"

"Sludge not cool," came the growling reply. "Sludge hot. Tunnels hot. Sludge no like tunnels."

"I know, you said already," Slipstream sighed. "But think about the hero part."

"Sludge hero?" the Dinobot asked, after a moment's consideration, looking over his shoulder at Slipstream.

"Yes, Sludge hero," Slipstream smiled. Finally, some progress. Sludge stopped walking for a moment, as though thinking hard. At length, he answered, his deep voice echoing from the tunnel walls.

"Sludge no like tunnels."

The argument solved, to his mind at least, Sludge turned from his companion and started walking slowly in their original direction. Slipstream watched the Dinobot start to leave with a look of utter disbelief written across his face. His head dropped, and he slapped the palm of his right hand against his forehead. This is going to be a long shift, he thought to himself. It was at that point that Slipstream thought he heard something. He called out to Sludge, but he just rumbled some more about not liking tunnels, and carried on walking. Slipstream decided to investigate by himself.

O o O o O

Optimus Prime had been on patrol for less than an hour when it happened. The tunnel network echoed with a high pitched, undulating scream, followed by frightened shouts and what sounded like gunfire. Prime began to run in the general direction of the commotion, but was unsure of which way to head. The noise was bouncing around in the labyrinth of tunnels, making it difficult to trace. As he headed in what seemed to be the right direction, he met up with Mirage and Sideswipe, practically running into the pair. Both of them looked scared. Prime knew exactly how they felt.

Together, the trio ran on, knowing that the worst had happened, and fearing what they would see. Within minutes, Prime was joined by more Autobots that had heard the noise, and by the time they reached the site of the attack, Prime was leading twelve others. Inside, Prime was screaming with frustration. He should never have given the order to split up the larger teams. But it was too late for self recrimination. He could deal with that later. What he and the others faced now required his full attention.

The tunnel the group was in had widened out to form a fair sized cave. They were at virtually the deepest point of the tunnel system, and so far as Prime knew, no Autobot had explored this deep into the mountainside. In the centre of the cave, a scene of destruction met their collective optics. Pitstop lay in several pieces, his various internal fluids sinking slowly into the soil of the cavern floor. Nearby, Axcell lay against the cave wall, a smoking crater in his right shoulder, his optics off-line. And standing in the middle of it all, pulse rifle in hand, was Slipstream.

Prime raised his own weapon, not wanting to take any risks. The youngster looked completely shaken, and Prime knew that if he lost control, he could become very dangerous very quickly. On the other hand, Slipstream could just as easily be the monster. Following Prime's lead, the other Autobots fanned out, bringing their own weapons to bear. Slipstream didn't move.

"Slipstream," Prime said softly, trying to get the youngster's attention. "Slipstream, listen to me. Put the gun down, son."

Slipstream looked up at Prime, his movements slow and deliberate. At first, he seemed completely unfocussed, his features glazed over, as though his mind was somewhere else. Then he came to, his optics locking onto Prime's, and his expression switched to one of the utmost sorrow. Slowly, he loosened his grip on his rifle, and it dropped to the cavern floor.

"I'm... I'm so... sorry," he began, his voice faint and faltering. "I had to. I had to do it. He was... he was going to kill me." Slipstream dropped to his knees then, breaking out into loud sobs. Prime felt a surge of deep pity for Slipstream, and lowered his blaster, taking a few steps toward him. The Autobot commander knelt down next to the young mech, placing his large hands on Slipstream's much smaller shoulders, trying to steady the youth.

"Tell me what happened," he said gently.

O o O o O

Axcell had been the monster all along. By the time Slipstream had finished, Prime was sure of it. Slipstream had told him of how he had heard the beginning of the attack, and had walked in on Axcell sinking his teeth into Pitstop's throat. He told of how he had tried to intervene, but how Axcell had thrown him to one side like he was made of so much paper, and proceeded to tear poor Pitstop apart. It had been then that Slipstream had managed to reach his weapon and shoot Axcell.

Axcell had been taken to the med-bay, along with the remains of his victim. Surprisingly, Axcell had survived his wound, simply being knocked unconscious by the shot. Prime had ordered that he be kept under guard by at least three Autobots at all times. He had also ordered that Sideswipe should not be allowed into the med-bay, fearing that he would kill Axcell in revenge for the attack on his brother before Prime could question him.

Slipstream, despite his initial distress, had calmed down quickly, even going so far as to volunteer for the first watch over Axcell. Prime worried about the young mech, about how he was holding up under the stresses he had endured in such a short time. At the same time, he blamed himself for what had happened. He found himself fighting off the urge to shut himself away again, instead concentrating on waiting for Axcell to come around, so he could finally get some answers.

He was willing to wait for as long as it took...

O o O o O

Slipstream stared at the sleeping form of Axcell, lying a short distance away on an observation bed. Slipstream was on watch with Snarl and Mirage. He stood leaning against a wall, just behind his two friends, carefully watching for any signs that Axcell was waking up. Axcell twitched slightly, and Slipstream tightened his grip on his pulse rifle. He regretted what he would have to do, what he had already done. But if Axcell woke up, there was no way Slipstream could let him live.

After all, he thought to himself, his optics changing from blue to red, then back again. I have a secret to keep...

Author's Notes: Deleted scene one.

For some odd reason, the scene with Slipstream choking in the mess hall got dropped from the original cut of Epiphanies. I had decided to play down the Slipstream/Axcell friendship, and this scene was a big scene for that relationship; you can see the kind of 'best friend/surrogate older brother' kind of vibe between our resident vampire and the scout, and I had wanted to move away from that. Goodness knows why.

The scene is also a precursor for the ending, when we find out that Slipstream is really the monster, and originally I felt that it kind of got spoiled by the mess hall scene. Putting it back in, I feel, has still done that; the upshot is, however, that it intensifies the betrayal of Axcell, making for a more emotional story hook. Funny how hindsight is such a wonderful thing!

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.