Chapter Text
As far as Slipstream was concerned, there wasn't time to waste. Still, she was forced to wait several days for her weakness to subside. No, she didn't care that she lost more than fifty percent of her circulating energeon. No, she didn't care that she punctured her main fuel pump and they had to replace it. No, she didn't care that it damaged her systems, potentially permanently. They needed to find whatever that thing was and stop it!
So, the moment she could stand and walk, she was up. It didn't matter that she wasn't medically cleared. She was dizzy, but that didn't matter. Still—
"I should come with you. You'll need a medic."
—When Jetfire insisted on joining their party, she didn't refuse. It was just in case. She definitely didn't fear she might collapse in the middle of travel. Definitely not.
Starscream was supposed to be with her, but—
"You're not going!" Skywarp hissed. "We just got you back from one suicide mission. You don't need to go on another!"
Starscream flexed his claws. He leaned toward her, baring his dentae. "Then you can't go, either. Your warp drive is still growing back."
Skywarp flicked her wings. "Fine!"
"Who's going, then?"
Skywarp and Starscream froze, turning back toward Nova Storm. They exchanged glances.
"How about you?" Skywarp said.
—Well, it didn't pan out. Slipstream tried desperately not to look behind her, at the familiar yellow plating. The pink was hers. She knew it would match. All the more reason not to look.
Acid Storm and Ion Storm insisted on coming. Ramjet vouched for them, and Slipstream didn't have the energy to argue. She would just have to ignore them as well. They were talking quietly behind her. She tuned them out.
Sideways was less difficult to find than she assumed. All it took was a little bit of asking around—Ion Storm and Acid Storm, of course, not her—and they had a flood of stories about the mech and confirmation of where he liked to recharge. Apparently, he was a known figure.
They slipped into the alley. Sideways laid splayed across it, his optics shuttered. Slipstream glanced at Ramjet. Ramjet nodded and strode forward, shaking the mech gently by his shoulders.
Sideways stirred, letting out a yell. As his optics trailed over the mecha in front of him, he calmed. A grin spread across his face.
"You!" He said cheerily.
"Tell us where he is," Slipstream said.
Somehow, the grin got wider. Sideways scrambled to his pedes. His wings were chipped, his plating covered in dirt. The mech clearly wasn't taking care of himself.
"I know where the demon's spark is!" He said. "He possessed me during the war and I saw it!"
Ramjet glanced at her, expression unamused, as if to say, 'This guy? Really?'
Slipstream shrugged. Sideways took off. The group followed. They flew above land and sea, staying away from common paths.
"It was the middle of a battle," Sideways said. "I don't remember which one. I was bleeding out. Desperate, I downed the cube of dark energeon I'd stolen that morning. My limbs moved on their own."
"Let me guess," Acid Storm said. "It was the best you'd ever fought?"
"Yes!" Sideways said. "It was. A voice spoke to me, telling me to destroy. That was all it wanted: death. The demon stopped controlling me after the battle, but I still hear its voice. It's what told me to turn on the switch that day."
The… thing told him to do that? It made sense. Why else would Galvatron appear the moment it happened? That just reinforced Slipstream's theory further: whatever this thing was, it was tied to dark energeon.
Sideways finally dove. They landed at the edge of a mountain. Ahead of them was a tunnel, half-obscured by fallen rocks. Sideways pointed to it.
"There!" He said.
Slipstream fired. In a cloud of dust and debris, the rocks fell away. Sideways dove in right away. Before she could follow, a gentle hand grabbed Slipstream's arm.
"Are you sure we should do this?" Ion Storm asked.
Slipstream shook him off. Of course one of them would be the ones to ask.
"Go home if you're afraid," she hissed. "You had no qualms about leaving me to face danger alone before."
Ion Storm's face hardened. His wings rose.
"No," he said firmly. "We aren't abandoning you again."
Abandoning… Slipstream didn't expect them to use the word. That required acknowledging their cowardice for what it was. But Ion Storm had used it. Maybe they did care.
"Thank you," she said, turning away before he could react. It was better not to see.
She entered the tunnel. The rest of the group soon followed. As they descended, it grew damp, the occasional drop of water hitting her olfactory ridge. But the tunnel held firm.
Her pedes began to hurt as they continued walking in endless darkness, light long swallowed up. But they had to see this through. The tunnel grew choked with heat as her cooling fans came on, her still-recovering systems taxed by the long trek. She wasn't the only one.
Eventually, the tunnel opened up into a cavern. Slipstream felt along the walls for a suitable place, then sat.
"Let's rest for a moment," she said.
Sideways grunted in displeasure, but didn't protest. Soon, the rest of the group was sitting, and the cavern grew steadily less stuffy as temperatures normalized and fans turned off.
Slipstream stood up, ready to call for the continuation of the journey, when a sound made her freeze. The floor vibrated beneath them. Dirt landed on her helm, sliding down onto her face.
"Cave in!" She yelled, feeling along the side of the cavern. What use it would have, she didn't know. They had no idea what laid ahead, and they were too far from the entrance to make it back.
As she shaking intensified, she dug her claws into the walls to steady herself. A cacophony of voices sounded, blending together with the crash and crack of stone. She tried to identify them—Ramjet, Nova Storm, Acid Storm—
There was a scream. Sideways.
The cavern stopped shaking. Slowly, Slipstream detached herself from the wall.
"Who's still here?" She called shakily.
A small chorus of voices answered. Ion Storm, Acid Storm, Ramjet…
"Nova Storm?" She called.
"I'm here!" She said, her voice slightly distant. "A rock hit my helm, but I think I'm okay."
She was alive. That was what mattered.
"Jetfire?" She called.
"Here!" He said quietly, voice much closer to her than Nova Storm.
Good. He was alive as well.
"Sideways?" Slipstream called.
No answer.
"Sideways?" She called again.
She raked her claws against the wall. Frag. If she was lucky, he was unconscious. But Slipstream was rarely lucky.
She walked carefully, doing her best not to trip on the freshly fallen rocks. With a clang, her pede hit metal. She bent down, running her hands along the area. They grew sticky with energeon quickly.
A hand. An arm. A helm. A rock. Sideways had been crushed. That was the scream.
"Sideways is dead," she said. Silence was her response. She rose. "We need to keep going."
Still more silence. Large pedes followed hers.
"She's right," Jetfire said. "If this happens again, we'll be safer in the narrow tunnel ahead."
That stirred the group. Soon, they were all in the tunnel. Slipstream didn't know what laid ahead, but whatever it was, Sideways thought it was what they needed to find. Considering the timing of the quake, he was probably correct. This thing didn't want the Matrix near it, so it was probably trying to deter them.
But Slipstream wouldn't surrender. It tried to take her life, and had terrorized her for far too long. She wouldn't rest until it was dealt with.
"Do you feel that?" Nova Storm whispered.
"I think I do," Ion Storm whispered back.
Slipstream didn't turn back toward them. The tunnel was too narrow for it.
"Feel what?" She hissed.
"Anger," Nova Storm said. "Deep, sharp anger."
They were feeling an EM field. Slipstream couldn't sense them, but the others could. EM fields were generated by sparks. They were getting close.
The ground hummed beneath them. Buzzing invaded Slipstream's audials, swallowing any sound the others could've made. Blinding white light shone ahead.
This was it. Slipstream increased her pace. Only a few pedesteps separated her from her target.
Then, it was none. The tunnel opened up into a large chamber. Stalactites and stalagmites littered the chamber, washed out by the light at the center. It swirled and crackled, shadows dancing across the chamber walls.
The hum was all-consuming. Behind her, the other members of the group fell to their knees—all but one. She and Jetfire remained standing.
A voice rose above the hum.
"You dare bring that here?"
It was layered, a thousand voices speaking as one. Somehow, it was both distinct from the hum and one with it. Slipstream stepped forward as she motioned for Jetfire to stay back.
"You tried to kill me!" Slipstream hissed.
"You are a pest," the thing said.
Slipstream stepped closer. The hum penetrated her plating, vibrating her very spark.
"Why do you fear the Matrix?" She said.
The thing didn't respond.
Slipstream willed the Matrix to produce energy, channeling it up her plating. She held her claws up, offering the energy. The thing in front of her dimmed.
"Cease that!" The thing cried.
"Then tell me!" Slipstream yelled. "What are you and why do you fear the Matrix?"
The thing's wild thrashing calmed. The room grew dark, as if it were sucking in all of the light. The humming lowered in pitch.
"It is not called a Matrix," the thing said. "It's a spark extractor."
Spark extractor…? That didn't make sense, until it did. The Matrix stored copies of those who wielded it. It was known to hold great power—able to fell armies with a single strike. All along, it was copying and extracting sparks and their data.
"And you're a giant spark," Slipstream said.
"Not a spark," the thing said. "A spore."
"A spore?"
"I destroy—drain, consume," the thing said. "Then I create."
"Create," Slipstream repeated.
"Yes," the Spore said. "I use what I have taken to make life. You are from a rival. That is why you have the extractor."
Energeon nourished them. Perhaps…
"The dark energeon—is it to nourish this life?"
"No," the Spore said. "It is to destroy you. The world must be empty for my creations. You are an obstacle."
If the world had to be empty, it couldn't just be referring to cybertronians. The Spore must've been speaking of everything on the planet. Swansong's quiet meow echoed in Slipstream's audials.
"This planet is full of life, not just us," she said.
"It will all die," the Spore said. "I do not care for it."
"But I do!" Slipstream hissed.
The Spore laughed. Galvatron's voice leaked from it, louder than the thousand others inside.
"You cling so uselessly to others," the Spore purred. "Would it not be better to just let go?"
Slipstream thought that, once. But it left her alone and miserable, just as Starscream said it would. And in the end, foregoing that belief was what saved her from her own foolishness. If it weren't for Ramjet, Acid Storm, Ion Storm, and the others, she wouldn't be there to speak to the Spore now.
"I don't cling," Slipstream hissed. "I hold. And they embrace me."
The Matrix rumbled in her chest. The ever-present pain faded, power running through her frame. This was what it wanted all along.
Ramjet, who was so sweet and loyal, even when she lied to push him away. Jetfire, who did his best to understand her, offering comfort and secrets even when she thought they wouldn't help. Acid Storm and Ion Storm, who had apologized, who still wanted to aid and protect her. Nova Storm…
Slipstream faltered. She turned back toward the group. The darkness had swallowed them, but she could catch glimpses of their plating reflecting the light.
Nova Storm, who she barely knew. Nova Storm, who offered a hand to a stranger wearing the face of her dead friend in the hope they could build something new.
"How sweet," the Spore said. "But there is no room in my world for you."
Slipstream steeled herself, calling upon the Matrix. It responded joyfully, energy crackling down her plating.
"Nor is there room in my world for you!" She hissed.
With a powerful leap, she launched herself at the Spore. She buried her claws in its surface, gritting her dentae as the current coursed through her. It buzzed over her plating, threatening to consume her.
She howled, burying her claws deeper. Beneath her, the spore screeched, thousands of voices calling out of time and tune. Energy coursed through her lines. Her audials rang, the world consumed by white.
Then, her pedes were on solid ground. The cavern was dark. Water dripped onto her olfactory ridge. Everything was still and silent.
That was it? All of this suffering and fear, for it to just end like that? Slipstream's frame was numb. There should have been a grand explosion, something powerful and all-consuming. Instead, the world shorted out like a broken light.
She turned back toward the group. As her optics adjusted to the darkness, she stared. Acid Storm and Ion Storm were already stirring. Jetfire was awake, leaning against the cavern walls. Then, Nova Storm woke with a quiet noise.
Slipstream took a step closer. An invisible barrier crackled to life at her pedes, daring her to cross. It promised pain if she violated it. She crossed it anyway.
It dissipated, blowing away as if it never existed to begin with. There was no pain. No collar around her neck, sending currents into her plating. It was only her.
Slipstream crouched slightly, offering Nova Storm her hand. Nova Storm smiled up at her and took it. With a gentle pull, she brought Nova Storm to her pedes.
Slipstream was tempted to speak, but the message she needed to deliver was for Nova Storm only.
[I would like to know you, if you'll have me,] she sent.
Nova Storm squeezed her hand.
[Of course!] She replied.
Slipstream released her hand and took a step back.
[I'm not the Slipstream you once knew.]
Nor was Nova Storm her Nova. She couldn't pretend, even if they had the same face and hands—even if their wings tilted the same way when they were happy. They were from different worlds.
[I know that,] Nova Storm sent. [Nothing can bring her back. But I don't need a replacement. I want to move on.]
Was this moving on? Slipstream supposed it was. But to her, moving on was forgetting. This was far from forgetting.
The Matrix buzzed in her chest, humming with new power. This was something else. It wasn't consuming the memories or letting them consume her. It wasn't losing herself to the specters in her mind. It was vanquishing them and turning toward what laid ahead, ready to fight.
Nova was long dead, but so was Galvatron. Her closest confidant and worst enemy were both gone. If she wanted to kill the monsters that stalked her mind, perhaps it was best to kill the sorrows as well.
Perhaps the sorrows were monsters all along. They held her back in the same way the monsters did, but even more insidiously. Nova would've wanted her to be happy.
Nova would've wanted this.
That was the thought that brought her forward. She smiled at Nova Storm, passing by her.
[I do as well.]
She made her way to the back of the group. Ramjet stared down at her, a small frown on his face. She reached up, pulling him into an embrace. After a moment of hesitation, he returned it.
She buried her face into his shoulder and whispered, "I'm sorry I lied to you."
Ramjet's grip tightened. She continued.
"I thought you would be hurt if you stayed close to me," she said. "You already were once."
"You're worth it," he said quietly, his voice cracking. "You're worth it."
Slipstream brought her helm up, pulling away.
"You are, too," she said.
Ramjet smiled.
Slipstream turned back toward the group. She locked optics with Jetfire, whose wings lowered in response.
[Thank you,] she sent to him.
His wings shot back up. [For what?]
[For letting me confide in you,] she sent.
[Do you still hate the Matrix?]
Did she? Slipstream resented being forced to lead, believing the mecha beneath her hated her. But now? She saw things for what they were.
She wouldn't have chosen this life, or this position, but she found she no longer despised it.
[It just saved us,] she said.
That was reason enough to appreciate it.
She turned to the final members of the group. Acid Storm's wings were high, her face set in a determined expression. Ion Storm hovered next to her, much less sure of himself.
"I'll never forgive you," Slipstream said.
Ion Storm curled in on themself. Acid Storm bristled.
"But I understand why you did what you did," Slipstream said. "You proved yourselves today."
Acid Storm fluttered his wings. "We won't let you down."
Slipstream nodded. She turned down the tunnel, listening as the group fell in behind her—the large but soft pedesteps of Jetfire, the quick steps of Ramjet, the powerful march of Acid Storm, the muffled skips of Ion Storm, and the soft tread of Nova Storm. She didn't know what she would say to the Decepticons when they emerged, but she didn't have to.
For once, Slipstream was worthy—of life, of the Matrix, and of companionship. In truth, she had been all along, she was just blind to it. They would all face the new tomorrow together, not to reconstruct the lives they lost, but to build something entirely new. Because despite what others thought, they were all worthy of seeing it, and all worthy of building it.
The future began not with destruction, but with hope.