WFC: A Friendly Little Stand-Off

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by Takun, Aug 14, 2010.

  1. Takun

    Takun strongbad_email.exe

    Aug 22, 2006
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    Let me say for the record that I'm not the world's biggest Decepticon fan, and it really rubs me the wrong way in the games when, for the sake of completion, I have to take potshots at Autobots. That said, I can't help but find Slipstream pretty interesting, especially her inclusion on War For Cybertron. This little story was an interesting thought that took root in my mind and refused to let go. It's told from her point of view, so don't be too surprised with the whole.. Decepticon supremacy.

    ... not that there's anything wrong with that. Anyway, first time posting here so, hope you enjoy.

    I do not own, nor am making any money off of Transformers and the characters used.

    A Friendly Little Stand-Off

    In the still of the night, in the absolute darkness of a city that was running low on reserve power, it was very easy to miss things. The dark armour that the Decepticons wore were particularly effective on these nights. Autobot scouts and guards had been tempted with using advanced scanning technology to better monitor the skies, but the load outs were heavy and cumbersome. Soldiers would all agree they would rather a sturdy weapon over a telescope any day just in case they ever did see something from above.

    But for the expert fliers of the Decepticon ranks, the Seekers, there was little fear in either of these situations. Fast, quiet, manoeuvrable, they would glide behind enemy lines with incredible ease. And on a quiet night, on the outskirts of the industrial district, no one would think to pay attention to the lofty jet gliding inside the maintenance tube underneath another simple building.

    Even inside the small tunnel, Slipstream flew perfectly. She was agile and lithe, built to wear the moniker of Seeker. Even Starscream and his brutish and boring partners Skywarp and Thundercracker couldn't compete with her perfection. She was far more streamlined than any of them, and that was why she was chosen for this mission. She told herself this. While her task was beneath her capabilities, she told herself that it required finesse and skills beyond those of the other jets in the Decepticon army.

    The wide pipe lead directly underneath an Autobot ammunition processing plant. The entire idea seemed primitive to her. In her sleek jet mode, she was constantly recycling and producing ammunition, but the Autobots didn't have this technology. And it was just another reason why they were doomed to lose the war.

    Transforming and landing perfectly, she started searching for an access point. A weakness in the ceiling to plant charges, or a sensor she could hack to spy on the enemy. The choice was hers, and it was another reason she questioned this absurd mission. Clearly Autobots were behind when it came to weaponry, but with the now-constant numbers of wounded and killed Decepticons rolling in with each skirmish, they were using what they had effectively.

    For Slipstream, that had helped make her choice up. There was little value in observing a plant that was behind in technology, and everything to gain in robbing the enemy in a resource. But it never hurt to cover all bases – if these slow, ground-based fighters had such a low-tech security system, then gleaning information from it before blowing it all to the pit was a favourable outcome. Covering both of her objectives would make her stand out even more from her peers once she reported back to Soundwave.

    And while she busily searched for anything out of the ordinary in the very ordinary tunnel, she didn't notice the figure approaching her from behind. It was a basic fact of war that when your enemy has their backed turned to you, a smart fighter would take the opportunity to silence them quickly and quietly. This was the most basic rule in the Decepticons.

    "Those little angry 'Con faces look pretty silly on purple armour, y'know."

    And Slipstream whirled around to see an Autobot staring up towards her from a few paces away. In the flickering light she could make out a basic warrior's framework. One arm hung down low to the side, the other resting against his hip confidently. Unarmed. A playful smirk was just visible and she felt a sense of smugness over this simpleton who obviously thought that she, as a femme, could be played with.

    "And only an absolute fool would throw away the element of surprise like you just did. No wonder you're losing."
    "I don't think that part's true."
    "It is." And she turned around, spreading her wings behind her and fully sizing up her soon-to-be latest kill.

    "You'll never win this war..." she began, her vocals smooth and low. A mixture of superiority and venom, and as fluid as oil. The Autobot was unimpressive. Short and scrappy and in a poor state of repair. "You can barely even look after yourselves." She chided smugly. The insignia on his chest glowed a bright red but the silver armour around it was dull and tarnished. There were obscene grooves in his bodywork from where the metal had been chipped off. Red armour that was smudged with oil and filthy grime covered him. And those wheels...

    Slipstream didn't hide her sneer of disgust. Two thick, treaded wheels adorned the Autobot's shoulders, twitching and spinning idly. Polymer that would burn with a stink when moving fast and she could tell that if nothing else, this pest was built for speed. Of course he could never compare to herself or her fellow seekers. They were on the bleeding edge of perfection. Her wings gave a flutter behind her as she tested them. If it came down to it, she could outfly anything he could throw at her.

    "We are the future of Cybertron. This world will be ours. And we both outnumber and outgun your little group quite easily."
    "And my gun is bigger than your faceplate." Slipstream felt her surprise show as his arm snapped upwards, impossibly fast. A scatter blaster was now hovering steadily in front of her. The muzzle was burned a hot white and behind it, the scrappy Autobot had the audacity to smirk. "And it could shred it before those pretty wings of yours stopped flapping. Quite easily."

    A thin, metallic lip pulled downward. She was effectively pinned against thin air. The gun held a steady bead on her and, loathe to admit it, indeed eclipsed her face.
    "That was a cheap move."
    "Yep." It was now his turn to be smug and superior. Cockiness oozed through his vocals.

    Slipstream glared through red optics, wishing him dead. Her heel ground into the tunnel floor and she briefly considered activating her defensive shockwave. It would destroy any nearby sensors, but that was of little consequence. In such a small enclosure, the Autobot would be bound to be hurt by it. Thrown back, disorientated maybe if she was lucky. Long enough for her to draw her rifle and take his head off at those ugly, wheeled shoulders.

    But for all she ever believed about Autobot inferiority, he was having none of it. As her engine quietly ignited he shoved the blaster down against her chest warningly.
    "No you don't." He said, and the sound of shells being cycled inside the weapon made her stall. The grin was gone and his was very serious – the weapon and the frosty look in his optics whispered 'I can end you, Decepticon.' And not once in her entire military campaign had she felt as threatened by the enemy until that very moment.

    "You seekers might get off on flying high and fast, but that's not a fight." The Autobot took a step closer, the scatter blaster still steady against her. "A fight is taking it to your enemy. It's getting in so close you can pick between blasting them or pulling them apart." The grin was back now, wolfish.

    "It's seeing you run around in a panic when you work out that hey, we'll fight back. It's seeing the look on your sparkly flying faces when we clip your wings." The red mech was closer now, and in the dim light she could make out young metal features of a warrior who was built for battle.

    "You jets are light, fragile. Take away those wings and all those engines and turbines just make you blow up quicker when you drop out of the sky." Slipstream watched with a guarded look. This Autobot wasn't threatening her anymore, or even gloating. He sounded... happy. No, this mech was absolutely gleeful. A spark of amusement was glowing behind his optics and he smiled up at her.

    "You Decepticons are so much fun – you're all brooding and as crazy as your cannon-swinging boss." The Autobot shook his head, chuckling, and Slipstream felt anger tugging at her Spark as he laughed at her. "But y'know, you bad guys go down pretty easily. You really think you're going to breeze through our cities and take Cybertron from us? Your scouts, your soldiers and your leaders all fall down pretty quickly when we slag them. And you jets that you're all so proud about? You're the weakest ones of all."

    Slipstream growled angrily in frustration and slapped her hand downwards, knocking the offending blaster away from her chest and igniting her engines. Her vents heated as her circuits blazed and pulsed, before her shockwave flared around her. Blinded, she transformed her rifle and aimed in front of her, firing off several rounds before letting the weapon cool.

    And the Autobot stood back unharmed. A telltale wisp of smoke hissed from the backs of his legs. 'A jetpack. No wonder he's so fast.' The scatter blaster was up and aiming at her again, and behind it, once more, was the smile. Only now it was dangerous. He raised his arm and showed off a fresh wound – a small drizzle of energon leaked from where her round had hit him. But he was still unfazed, and still smiling. He was energized by battle and it showed.

    "Even from back here, one shot will wreck those wings of yours." He grinned, and she knew that if she couldn't fly that there would be no chance of her escaping. Decepticons don't come back for those who fall behind – they were obviously unworthy of living, as decreed by Megatron himself. And as she knew her wings were her life, she hated this Autobot anew.

    "And you really think you will win this war, don't you, Decepticon? You don't stand a chance."

    Slipstream narrowed her optics, quickly weighing her options. The offending red mech was tougher than he looked, and he could ruin her flight mode before she killed him. Worse, he could easily kill her if it came down to it. She thought of a way to drop her charges and flee, feeling a thrill at thinking of this upstart being destroyed by ignited Autobot ammunition. But the detonation would have to be instant, or the risk of them being disarmed was high. A bitter thought of low technology echoed in her processor.

    If the Autobot's head was too stubborn to take off quickly, maybe shooting him in the knees would be quicker. Before she could think further, a light flashed on from the far end of the tunnel. A pair of transformers stood at the mouth, peering down towards them

    "Hey – what's going on down there?"
    "It's... a Decepticon! They've got a gun on one of ours!"

    Her red companion turned at the sound and Slipstream took her chance. She aimed, firing her rifle at his leg and dropping him to the ground with a yell. The other two voices shouted with surprise and fired warning shots at the ceiling, and she pressed herself down low to avoid damaging her precious wings.

    The Autobot growled and began to sit up, pushing his leg outwards before it was struck hard. The femme Seeker was now on top of him, forcing her knee down onto his injury and keeping it pinned. Her hand clamped down on his mouth and she grinned predatorily down at her prey. Her lips curved into a sinister grin.

    "Well, my little Autobot. It would be so easy for me to tear your spark out of this chest." She tapped his chest plate and grinned wider as he squirmed beneath her. "I could wear it as a charm on my audio..." She looked up with narrowed eyes as the two intruders were now hurrying quickly down the tunnel, weapons bared and ready. She looked back down and smiled smugly.

    "But I think I'd rather kill you in a more... fair way. Would you like that instead, noble Autobot?" The red soldier closed his optics as she ground her leg against his, agitating his wounds further. She leaned down closer to his own audio and whispered with a seductive, lethal edge. "And then we'll both know who's superior."

    She withdrew her hand and pressed it against his chest, shoving him roughly to the ground and pushing herself off before transforming. The two other Autobots ducked as she burned her jets and shot off overhead, out of the tunnel and climbing high into the sky above the city.


    Soundwave was not impressed when she reported the failure of her mission. At the very least, she thought he wasn't impressed. It was very difficult to tell.
    "The... duct turned out to be a dead end. Walls were too thick for explosives. Guards discovered me before I was able to plant my charges on the building itself."
    Soundwave was impassive behind his visor and mask. Laserbeak sat perched on his master's arm, watching her steadily. Finally the bird gave a twitch and Soundwave relaxed back in his chair.
    "Explanation: acceptable. Dismissed."

    With a nod, Slipstream turned on her heel and marched from the control room in the heart of the Decepticon science centre. Frustrated at the waste of time and energy in what was a glorious failure, she could only take satisfaction in knowing that she gave an Autobot medic a bad leg that would have to be repaired. She thought back to it, red and wet from energon under her knee as she proved she was better. And then she saw it, sitting amongst a set of static images on a hub of the Most Wanted Autobots.

    Her wings shook at the image. It was him, the same cocky grin, the same daring look in the optics. With a jerk she transfigured her hand and inserted it into the mainframe, pulling up the information. A former merchant at the docks before they were destroyed. A brawler and suspected criminal who became an Autobot. A typical story that belonged to many among the enemy ranks. But it was the short, impressive list that followed that clearly set this one apart from the rest.

    A soldier who aided in the retaking of Iacon after the Decepticon invasion. A known close-quarters combatant, who uses a blade with deadly precision. Uses a pair of pile drivers with devastating effect. Capable of flight with an auxiliary jetpack. Allowed self to be captured to aid in the mass breakout of Kaon. One of three Autobots, including temporary commander Optimus, to battle Soundwave for the remains of Zeta Prime. Hand picked by Optimus Prime to serve in Operation: Generation One.

    The scrappy warrior's image stood in profile, his sleek vehicle mode rotating next to it. Beneath was the name: Sideswipe. Slipstream smirked with wicked satisfaction. She had him in her sights now. The mech was a cheat who wouldn't play by the rules of wartime. He would be more fitting in the Decepticon ranks...

    She withdrew her arm, a hand transforming back before curling into a fist. She spun on her heel and stalked away to her quarters. Whatever, the choice had already been made, and he was among the Autobot ranks. But in the bleak, blurred battlefield miles below the Seekers, any skilled enemy that can take the fight to a Decepticon jet should be paid attention to. A most interesting enemy combatant indeed.

    Sliding across her recharge bunk, she admired herself. Light, fast, a living weapon with a brilliant mind for treachery. And one day she promised she would show this deluded cheat, Sideswipe, just how greater the Decepticons were. Until the day when she would scatter the battlefield with his parts, however, she grinned and knew she won't be quite so bored with the red car in her crosshairs.