Archive of Our Own ^beta

She wasn’t sure what compelled her to do it. Even at that moment, as much as she wanted to believe it, she didn’t know if any of this was right.

Though damn, wasn’t that the last ditch attempt to take her down. In all honesty, Slipstream didn’t want to think through her plan any more. Behind her optics, she could only see the disapproving look of her superiors. Who would it even be, if it was just Starscream or would he have an entourage, she wasn’t sure. Whoever would deal the last blow would end her immediately, without much echo, just another deactivated Seeker. Yet Slipstream’s victory could put her own name on the derma of every Decepticon around.

Maybe that was the reason. Sure, Slipstream wanted to act that it was all for the Cause but honestly, that was just half of the truth. Beneath the surface, there was endless glory of one Captain Slipstream, first of her kind. So many chants, she couldn’t help but smile.

There was also another thing. Windblade, that Autobot was a complete pain in the aft. Terrorizing her troops, stealing her ship and now messing up their findings. All in all, Slipstream simply needed that victory over her.

Hence amidst transformation, she launched herself right onto Windblade’s cockpit. No biggie.

In her mind, Slipstream tried her hardest to remember anything from the training. What did they know about Earth? Not much actually and she definitely didn’t expect such mighty winds. The cold was her friend, if she even had any, so that wasn’t too bothersome. Yet clinging onto Windblade’s frame, Slipstream couldn’t help but to fight her way of balancing.

Last bits of her own power deemed enough for her to punch her way, over and over again. Only a pathetic whimper of Windblade’s remained, as the grin on Slipstream’s derma grew bigger. Her frame swayed from left to right, almost as if losing the grip on anything palpable. Finally, Slipstream remarked in her mind, still mindlessly punching away, the slayer of Autobots, isn’t that a worthy title.

If it wasn’t for a fatal mistake. Not on either of their parts.

Unknowingly, from nowhere where sight could reach, there was a missile. Next thing Slipstream knew an overwhelming pain spread from her wing. As well as the sound of Windblade’s scream. Such pain seeping from it, Slipstream could only imagine the same happening to herself. If they were holding onto each other, she had no idea. Maybe Windblade was the only one she could hold onto at that moment.

There was no way Slipstream could tell. She only felt her own chassis slamming down onto the mountainside, right into the snow. As well as a… Peculiar weight on top of her. With her vision slowly returning, she could see that Windblade’s own point of fall was, well, on her.

Realizing this, Slipstream’s optics doubled in size. Each of her limbs wriggled around, just to escape the predicament. “Get off me!!! Right now! That’s an order, Autobot scum!” She yelled, almost embarrassed at her raised tone. Not to mention, why was she getting hot in possibly one of the coldest places on Earth?

“Ugh…” Windblade mumbled, probably still dizzy after the fall. “Okay, I’m getting off, right now. What even happened?”

Only then, as she stood up, she could examine the damage that had been done in those split kliks. Her sensors weren’t even needed, as the pulsating pain flew through Slipstream’s chassis from one exact place. Just as she put her servo up to her wing to examine this in the slightest, Slipstream winced at her own touch. The hole in them needed some very quick patching up. If only every force of hers didn’t drain immediately.

“I don’t know. Something shot from the winds… My wing…” starting slowly, Slipstream jumped in place again. “Must’ve been some of your Autobot friends, huh.”

Unimpressed, Windblade’s brow ridge raised, “I got shot too. Must’ve been a really bad Autobot sniper then. Especially since… Never mind, can I check yours?”

Slipstream looked at her, up and down, “No.”

“Okay. Do you have any medical training?”

To this she shrugged, “Not my division.”

Windblade seemed unamused, “Not mine either. Great, how do we even get out of here.”

After saying so, her pedes drew across the ground in heavy steps. Slipstream couldn’t lie, there was something about this, that just put a smile on her faceplate. Either it was the fact that graceful Windblade had no idea how to tread over this type of ground or maybe it was something else. Maybe even something she didn’t want to acknowledge while looking in Windblade’s direction.

With her servo outstretched, Slipstream caught something on it, a droplet that quickly turned into water. Was that included in her Earth initiation program? How was it called… Snow? Snowflake? No matter the name, it did confuse Slipstream aplenty. Something so beautiful and intricate, yet lasting a klik or two. The freezing sensation too. Weirdly pleasant to her circuits, she definitely could get used to that. Not to mention, she had never felt anything quite like so.

Stopping for a moment, her scarlet optics blinked twice. No, no, she wasn’t there to appreciate anything on this filthy, gross planet. Wiping off that wonder off her faceplate, Slipstream scoffed a little. There, that was the energon-thirsty Seeker captain she was.

As she crossed her arms right at her chest, she looked askance at Windblade, “So? I thought if I get one Autobot, a whole swarm of you will crawl out.”

Only then did Slipstream realize that Windblade had pulled out her sonar with a GPS system and scanned the area. Secluded as it was, there were also no signs of Autobots. Or Decepticons.

“I could say the same about Seekers, y’know, I thought dumb and dumber would follow you,” remarked Windblade, scanning up and down for, well, anything Cybertronian.

“I’m sure Thundercracker and Nova Storm will find enough threads in their processors and follow me,” Slipstream scoffed, yet suddenly she realized just what she was bargaining for. “Eventually.”

Oh, she was screwed.

At least the sound of Windblade’s sonar scanning, put her in place, “In the meantime, I don’t think neither you nor I can really fly around, so we better find another way to get out of here.”

She looked directly into Slipstream’s optics. Something within them betrayed just the worry that ran through her in the highest capacity. So much so, Slipstream felt that weird kind of tug in her spark. One beyond describable, with mere words she was taught as a Seeker.

“Fine. I’ll get to them,” Slipstream agreed.

“Great! Just try not to make them deactivate me,” she almost warned her. Wait, was that a smile? “I’ll call someone too.”

To which, she nodded. Every klik spent with her pushed her to the limits of… Pathetic, weakling behavior. Primus, what would she do to simply soar away as far as physically possible.

Trying to get her processors out of it, Slipstream pulled out the special Seeker frequency and let it run as quickly as possible. “Hello? Hello! This is Captain Slipstream speaking, anyone who gets this, report!” Yet when the static answered her, she couldn’t give up – just approach even harsher, “Report immediately! Report or I’ll–!” Her denta gritted. There truly was no use to act this tough, she knew there was nothing to prove. She quickly turned off her communication and with shame, she mumbled, “No signal. The storm must be jamming it.”

Sadly, Windblade nodded, though there was no way she would let it go that easily, “Lemme try this too.” Before Slipstream could tell her off again, she was calling on her own special line, “Hello? Anyone? Anyone who can hear, please answer!” Though coming empty-servoed as well, she sighed, “No chance.”

“So what do we do now?”

Thinking for half a kilik, Windblade’s optics shined again. Truly there was something that made that sight so damn enticing, Slipstream almost had to look away. The reason, once more, not worth mentioning by name.

“I can transmit a message via my private comm with my… Friend. You should try the same for your squad,” she explained, already going to her contacts list.

Right. There was no way around this one, “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Slipstream pressed her derma together, “We’re not supposed to have personal links to others, just the open ones that Megatron can control. I don’t have anyone's personal contact info.”

“What, you’ve never wanted to cheat the system?” Windblade asked, almost playfully.

Not that she herself was in the mood for any kind of fun, “I saw what happens to ones who did. Firstly, I have a high position, unlike you and I have to protect it by abiding by the rules. Second, I don’t want to get deactivated.”

And third, she thought, there was no one she would consider her friend. No one she thought she could talk to when times got dire.

Even without someone like Soundwave’s sparkreader abilities, she could tell something within Windblade changed. Her brow ridges drawn together, words at the tip of her derma, begging to be said. Yet, Slipstream stood her ground. The loneliness was Nemesis’ epidemic, sure, but it wasn’t as if she wanted any compassion. Especially not from an Autobot.

Which Windblade seemed to understand, as she looked at the screen again and just nodded, “Got it.” So instead of saying anything more, she went through her list and clicked the desired icon at that time. “It’s Windblade. I told you I’m going to the Himalayas but I’ve got a problem and I can’t fly back to you. Please get to me as soon as you get this message. And yes, pilot the ship. I’ll send you the coordinates. Don’t message me back – just fly here.” She explained but catching the very short moments as both hers and Slipstream’s optics met, she said some more, “And by the way? I’m not alone. But please refrain from attacking, okay? See ya there.”

Just like that she closed off her messages. As if nothing happened. Then she typed out the coordinates in their commlink’s chat.

All while Slipstream stood in place, trying to piece it back together. A question appeared in her processors as bright as the Earth’s sun and one that probably made her just as warm. But she yielded. Truly, there was no time to think about the consequences too much.

Besides, there was another question she wanted to actually ask, “Okay, Miss Rulebreaker, if you’re so keen on having the contact info and I think you were forged before the war, don’t you have old frequencies to the Seekers?”

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to contact any of them,” Windblade explained, not looking back at her. Why was Slipstream pleading within her processors that she would do that? “Since you and I will probably have to get cozy here together, I can tell you – I block my signals from the Decepticons.”

Slipstream’s optics widened. Now it all made sense why it was so hard to track her down. Yet before she could say anything, Windblade continued her tale.

“And no, don’t think I would disable them, just because we’re in peril,” Windblade then looked at her, drawing her brow ridges together. Tough luck. “Besides, out of all the Seekers I have contact info for, I don’t think neither you nor I would want to call Starscream right now.”

Between all the frost and snowstorms happening, this seemed like the information which finally froze Slipstream to her core. If Starscream knew about any of this… No, no chance. She’d rather be frozen till her deactivation.

“Fair point. For an Autobot,” Slipstream agreed, yet the last bits of her sentence were delivered with quite the venom on her glossa. No matter how much she wanted to keep staring, she tried to focus on… Anything else really. “So what’s the plan now, huh? If there’s nothing I can do and you have to wait here, anyway.”

“That’s all we can really do – just wait,” Windblade concluded and taking several wobbly steps to a steeper place on the mountainside, she sat down. “After some time the snowstorm will pass and you can call your army. Then we disperse, forget about this whole thing, get patched up and see each other again. Probably to fight, unless you get creative.”

Grumbling something underneath her vocoder, only then Slipstream realized just how little choice she had. Looking over her wing again, even the mere sight hurt her to her own core. It was useless to fight. Hence following Windblade’s lead, she sat down beside her. Just not to touch her, not even a little.

“Why do you think I would wanna find you or worse, follow you?”

“I dunno. You Decepticons are relentless, I just don’t know for what,” Windblade answered in a tone between boredom and puzzlement. Then she shrugged, “Just look at Optimus and Megatron and how long that has been going on.”

Again, it seemed as no matter how much of a useless Autobot she was, Windblade seemed to be more perceptive than most mechs Slipstream knew. As much as she would hate to agree with Windblade. Could it be due to her cityspeaker abilities? That Slipstream definitely wasn’t in the mood to test out.

Besides, whatever was going on between Optimus Prime and Megatron, Slipstream didn’t want to put it into words. Each mech wondered what was it about the two opposing leaders but no one felt qualified to say anything upfront. Truly that was the specialty of the Decepticons, Slipstream thought. The good old understatements.

One thing was for sure – no way in the Dark Spark would she ever want to follow Windblade, like those two always did.

“Right. Well, if you keep dreaming and not doing, congratulations, you will be just like Optimus Prime,” Slipstream complained, letting her servos go to the sides of her faceplate as her back bended.

At the corner of her optics, she could see the distress painted on Windblade’s faceplate. Which followed her rolling her own optics and doing the same as Slipstream did, “I don’t even want to answer that.”

So they stayed within the silence. It couldn’t have been long, a mere several kiliks. Yet Slipstream could already feel the question from before burning inside her. Of course, she didn’t want to be upfront about this but there was no way to describe this situation other than hopeless. Maybe desperate too. And by Primus, did Slipstream not want to call herself desperate right then.

Ugh.

“I have to ask you something,” she started and seeing Windblade change her position to face her again, she was confident in continuing. “Why did you ask that friend of yours not to attack me?”

Truly everything spoke against Slipstream’s position as the Captain of the Elite Guard. Pinned to the ground, energon levels waning, her weapons bended and distorted. Any respectful Autobot should have already finished her off when she was this vulnerable. Except probably Windblade.

“It wouldn’t be fair. I can tell that’s not the best shape you’ve ever been in,” in return, she explained shortly with a wicked expression. Oh, why did she keep doing this. “What can I say, I like a challenge.”

How many times did Slipstream could only answer her with a nondescript gruff, she truly couldn’t count anymore.

Yet, Windblade herself knew better how to follow those, “Okay. You and I will most definitely have to spend some time together here. As an extension to me saying that over the comms, let’s agree not to try to deactivate each other during this time. Anything afterwards can be whatever but I want this to be an even playing field. Agreed?”

To punctuate it even more so, she took her servo out and waited for Slipstream to shake it in agreement. With confusion washing upon her, she could only move her optics from Windblade’s servo to her faceplate.

It was probably the first time she had seen Windblade up close. Truth be told, the intricate details of her were even more so impressive up close. The cityspeaker markings, she presumed, decorated her visage in a way that was hard to describe to Slipstream. Not to mention her bright blue optics. For some reason, from as little as she traveled through the universe, Slipstream could tell they were the color of the ocean.

Why was she thinking about this anyway?

Shaking off the troublesome thoughts, Slipstream came to an obvious conclusion – this had to make do. Maybe she wasn’t as obsessed with the thrill as Windblade was but she truly wanted to survive even for a little longer. If just to defeat Windblade herself. Not to mention without her, she wouldn’t have many chances of survival or even reaching any other Cybertronian. There was simply the caveat of her superiors and their reaction. But it wasn’t as if they were supposed to find out, right? Oh, how low she had sunken.

As her concerns seemed to be brushed away, Slipstream shook her servo in return, “Deal. An even playing field… For now.”

In return, Windblade smiled. Maybe that was all that was needed between them.

Just like so, Slipstream returned to her previous position, trying not to pay Windblade even more mind than necessary. Not when she could already hear Starscream yelling at her, saying how useless she was at being the captain. But it wasn’t as if she would give up on any semblance of destroying the Autobots, especially one within her servos’ reach. It was strictly the business of survival, so they could destroy each other later on that damn even playing field.

Right?

It must’ve been at least several long breems.

Ones spent entirely on that particular slope, the only occurrence being the snowstorm happening right before their optics. Neither herself nor Windblade had changed their positions, staying idle and focused. Or were they really that focused? Anything that could be of note was within the icy winds and snow falling on them. Slipstream sighed heavily to herself. Not that the storm had even the slightest intention of stopping soon.

Weirdly enough, the feeling of restlessness was almost peculiar for her. Since the day she was constructed, Slipstream had to live through extensive training specifically dedicated towards the Seekers. She didn’t see much of Cybertron before and since she was constructed in the midst of the war, it was all she had ever known. But the idleness should’ve been an easy feat for someone like her. From her training, Slipstream could recall almost everything she had learnt in her lifespan. And one of the very first things new Seekers were told was to stand still and obey.

Why was Slipstream having troubles with not one but two of the most basic rules, was completely beyond her.

All she could tell was that her own optics simply couldn’t stop moving in Windblade’s direction. As much as Windblade would love to act like such, it wasn’t the first meeting of theirs. Or at least, it wasn’t the first time Slipstream had seen her. Within the training, she definitely saw the images of the Camien cityspeaker with aim to educate herself and destroy her at any opportunity.

However, that wasn't all. Slipstream had definitely caught glances of the battles happening outside the facilities, when she was still studying to be the best Seeker she could be. Then she saw her. The one and only, the one she should be fighting against. That solar-cycle Slipstream knew she had to destroy her.

If only she could do it. Just… Would she do it right then?

Since they called that stupid truce and Slipstream herself felt like her wings were taken away (figuratively and literally), she could only glance at Windblade and wonder about anything about her. Her faceplate was rather beautiful, yet Slipstream could only mention it as an objective fact. But there was something about her. Her fuller derma matched in color to those intricate markings of a cityspeaker. The blue brow ridges suited her blue optics, brighter than anything around. Everything within Windblade was harmonious. Her beauty came together, complementing each previous detail. All while Slipstream felt chaos building in her spark.

There was one more thing to note – Windblade was freezing. Sure, Cybertronians’ systems allowed them to withstand the most extreme values of the temperature. Yet being from the sunny Caminus, Windblade most likely wasn’t made for a situation like this. Wasn’t that an oddity for someone like Slipstream. Every Seekers’ ability was tied to something specific about them. It just so happened that her own specialty was the drastically low temperatures. For her, it was nothing but a light spring breeze.

Though Slipstream’s optics were definitely glancing to her side more than it was considered accidental, as Windblade finally caught her stare, she retained her own place. Derma pressed together, avoiding her stare. Maybe Windblade wanted to actually remark upon this, yet chose a different approach, “Not to disturb you pondering but your wings are covered in snow.”

With surprise on her faceplate, Slipstream motioned to her wings. An ever so slight film on snow appeared there, as she grumbled something underneath her vocoder, something even she didn’t know what that was. Quickly, she brushed it away clean. “Ehm. Thanks,” once more she said carelessly, yet the sharper motion sent that wave of pain all over her chassis. Her denta gritted exponentially, as her servo went to the side.

“Are you okay? Here, lemme help–“

Kliks before Windblade wanted to touch her wing, Slipstream had to intervene. Not even realizing, her sharper motion gripped right at Windblade’s outstretched servo. Though not as harshly as she had wanted.

“Don’t,” Slipstream hissed. “I don’t need you Autobrats ever touching me.”

Maybe the fear in her optics could have been seen within a single astro-klik. But just as quickly, Windblade’s expression remained smug. The vision was so baffling, Slipstream herself couldn’t help but to let her confusion show.

“I have a name. Slipstream.”

“Windblade.”

Even with utmost contempt her name on Slipstream’s vocoder sounded like the sweetest energon cocktail. Primus damn it.

To get herself out of those unwanted and definitely unneeded thoughts, Slipstream brushed off another portion of the snow. Maybe just for Windblade’s amusement. However, she couldn’t tell what she was thinking, as stopping the focus on her faceplate, Slipstream then noticed the motion of her wings. Must’ve bothered Windblade something awful too, since there was little to no snow on them. The deep thoughts had taken away her own needed focus.

Perfectly crafted to break Slipstream’s tolerance for this situation, if she had any to begin with. Another shake of her wings and she turned to face Windblade again, “This is useless. If you Autobots consider this an actual way of passing the time, I have no doubts why you wanna stay together. Pathetic weaklings–“

Before she could finish her already drifting away thought, this time Slipstream felt her own servo involuntarily take Windblade’s, stopping it in sight. As the pressure towards her grew and Windblade’s fist was ready to smash her down. With another wave of puzzlement, Slipstream didn’t ask. Not when she saw that wicked smile of Windblade’s.

“Maybe a little nicer next time?” she remarked, still smiling, as she finally stopped pushing.

Looking from her servo to Windblade’s smug look, thousands of questions already wanted to drip from Slipstream’s glossa. One thing was even more apparent, why did she not feel a thing? She should know of Windblade’s power, her carefully crafted strikes. Especially, she just knew that without her withholding, Windblade could easily smash her servo and then wings, into the smallest pieces. And that was when Slipstream realized.

She didn’t want to hurt her. She just wanted to entertain her in a Decepticon way.

Slipstream smiled. Clever.

“So by the Decepticon standards, what exactly qualifies as a quality time?” Windblade queried again, this time a certain kind of curiosity heard from her.

Ah, why not, let’s amuse her. And let herself be amused, “The Decepticons and especially the elite guards don't have time for petty jokes or useless small talk. Most of our time we just spend training.”

“Hmm…” she thought to herself, suddenly getting an idea. Beneath the stormy skies, Windblade stood up, stretching herself up as she did. “Do you have a melee weapon with you?”

“I usually just use my servos or the wrist blasters... Why?”

“C’mon, get up,” this time Windblade’s faceplate was much more… Gentle. Au contraire. “If you like fighting this much, let's at least make it productive. Sparring partners?”

Saying so, Windblade exchanged her servo in her direction. Her faceplate remained within that softness and encouragement Slipstream wasn’t sure was possible to ever be directed at her. She eyed from her servo to her faceplate again, weird warmth once more within her spark.

“It’ll do,” she remarked and with Windblade’s help, she stood up once more.

She couldn’t lie, it felt so much better just to go into motion again. Her arms stretching out, her legs skipping several times just to get themselves ready. All while Windblade went further away to gain the needed distance, as well as the momentum. The showdown was almost ready to begin.

Just why did Slipstream take that special note of the fact how her hips swayed as she moved… Never mind. Not important, no way.

“Do you Seekers have any ground rules?” Windblade shouted, taking her sword into her servos.

“Pfft. Not if you want to have fun.”

“Thought so,” she shrugged. “But we can always hang to our previous rule, right?”

But at this moment Slipstream only half-listened to what she was saying. Maybe it was a dirty move but it was Windblade herself who first mentioned the Seeker rules. And within the ranks of the Seekers there weren’t many stern do’s and don'ts in combat. Especially when their superiors were nowhere to be seen. Hence before Windblade could finish her sentence, Slipstream already rushed up ahead to strike with her fist. Windblade however was just as quick as she was before.

With just the same wickedly successful smile, Slipstream said, “I won’t deactivate you now, if you don’t deactivate me. A simple math, really.”

“I didn’t know you Seekers could do math,” just as confidently, Windblade smirked.

Even in her audio receptors, Slipstream could feel the energon in her lines pump up with excitement. Oh, it was on.

So she tried again. Taking her servo from Windblade’s grasp, she tried to punch her way one by one. Striking correct punches, Slipstream didn’t realize just how skilled Windblade was, especially in the defense department. Each one of her subsequent strikes were met with Windblade blocking them with her arm bracelets. If Slipstream herself had any blades on her, they would sharpen within a blink of an optic.

No matter how long it took, Slipstream didn’t want to give up. Bracing her own next punch, she didn’t realize Windblade putting her arms in a way that now both of the bracelets confided her way. Before she could do anything, the impact had been made. Along with the whirr of Windblade’s fans, her balance was gone. All Slipstream could do now was to tumble away.

“Air strike. Captain,” Windblade drew out with a voice, Slipstream definitely didn’t expect.

Catching that ex-vent in her chest, she jumped right back from the snow bed to her pedes again, “I’m just getting started. Windblade.”

Even without Windblade signalizing she was ready for another round, she’d be bright and up. Still, wasn’t that a nice additive. This time, as gaining even more speed from the distance, Slipstream was ready for Windblade's tactic. Not that she wanted to show it but her optics almost doubled when she pulled out her famous Stormfall Sword. Wasn’t that a legendary piece. Falling to it would almost be a pleasure.

Thankfully, Slipstream’s plan for solar-cycle didn’t include losing.

Hence another trajectory had been calculated by her. Of course, it made the most sense to start with the obvious tactic. Just as before she started targeting the punches, so Windblade could block them. As much as Slipstream already knew she could fight, Windblade proved to be better at her defense. This time however instead of her bracelets, the sword came into action, with slicing sounds all around them. Perfectly executed, almost like a dance

First surprise came in the form of Slipstream targeting the sword again yet this time with her own arm missile shooters. The clang sound of the metal forced onto the blade resounded across the so-called field. With enough force and gritting her derma, Slipstream used enough of her power to push Windblade in the opposite direction. Another applause for the Stormfall Sword – though with force, it withstood the weight she was ready to advance onto it.

Suddenly, mustering all the strength within her, Slipstream advanced forward even more than just a klik ago. All cards on this move, she knew it too well. If Windblade could use her own wings for the attack, why couldn’t she? Her engines fired up ever so slightly, creating the much needed swirl for the action. Which pushed Windblade away, her pedes drawing into the snow and losing balance. Quickly enough, her knees fell into the drift.

As confusion drew on Windblade’s faceplate, Slipstream could only give her a lopsided smile. Victory almost hers indeed. It just needed that one last push, one that would guarantee her own upper servo.

The path was clear again. Her strut heels clicked beneath the snow, as she had approached the almost knocked out Windblade. Though she still held onto her sword bravely or however Slipstream could even call an Autobot. Even that, was just the calculation Slipstream needed. Another part of the Seeker Academy would be proud of her.

One last step and instead of punching her down, Slipstream used her sword almost as if on a ramp. Her pede bounced off of it with the motion of an acrobat. In that split klik she could see Windblade almost calling out to her with a question. Yet as Slipstream landed on the other side of her, it was too late.

Swiftly, she stood right back up from her precise landing. Then with her arms outstretched, she fired two missiles exactly onto the ground beside Windblade. Her efforts of blocking them weren’t enough, as they never targeted her. Sometimes the best tactic had to be intimidation.

Slipstream proudly crossed her arms on her chest and moved the weight of her chassis from one leg to the other, “One to one. That’s why you never even try to win with a Decepticon.”

“I’m not gonna lie but for a Decepticon… You really impressed me,” Windblade remarked, not too much boastfulness in her vocoder.

Maybe she truly saw through Slipstream. Maybe that was the first step. Maybe Slipstream herself almost forgot to think about Windblade in any ironic terms.

“Get up. Whoever wins this round is the victor,” with the excitement buzzing within her, Slipstream boosted her up. Nothing she would ever think she’d get to say about an Autobot. “Now show me what you’ve got.”

Softly, she let out a laugh, “Only if I get a return of it from you.”

Looking at her from afar, Slipstream just had to notice that small smile that was present on her dermas. Even if it might’ve meant very little, it was still something she had never expected from… Anyone. Especially not her. A newfound wave of determination rose within her. If she would smile at her more in this way… Frankly, Slipstream couldn’t wait to secure that victory.

“You can bet on it.”

Like so it was on. Slipstream sped through the snowdrifts, her heel struts almost making her feel like flying again. At the same time, with a battle cry from her vocoder, Windblade barraged forward, her sword firmly in her servos. It was clear how she didn’t want to defend herself anymore. This was time for the complete showdown, the full-blown attack. Oh, how Slipstream wanted this.

Their paths met halfway with a correct strike from both of them. Windblade’s sword clanged against Slipstream’s forearm cannon, not launching any missiles this time. As if she was wielding a sword, Slipstream tried to match Windblade’s swings of her weapon. Circling each other to get the best direction, even though her weapon of choice had to stay within the realm of her cannon, she tried to make it work. Two bots hoping one of them would get that needed upper servo.

Nothing excited Slipstream more than just a fight reserved for the battle of the skills. At that point she was even ready to praise Windblade’s style of swordsmanship, or even of her combat. Every move of her was elegant, as if turned into a rehearsed performance. Yet none of them were delicate, not in the slightest. Windblade’s actions were like choreography, yet when she knew how to strike, she did it with utmost force. Hence battling with her was so much better than the skirmish at home.

Windblade had to sense it too, “Why are you smiling?”

Caught red-servoed, Slipstream lost her balance for just a klik. Though for Windblade a klik was enough to immobilize her right servo. Thankfully, Slipstream’s strength was her biggest virtue.

“I don’t think you’d want to hear compliments from me,” Slipstream answered, as her stance towered before her.

“Why not? I just told you something nice,” her optics shined, as Slipstream’s force made her go lower and lower. “I know you’d just think of it as “wimpy” or whatever you Decepticons call public displays of any emotions. But I don’t wanna shame you now.”

“Now?”

Getting away from her grip, Windblade carefully let herself go. With the micro-klik of surprise and lack of balance, then Slipstream could once more feel the turbines in her wings spinning. Yet if the thought of her stumbling would ever cross anyone’s mind, they’d be sorely mistaken. Instead, with a careful turn Slipstream’s pedes slid at the icier groundwork and still managed to strike a pose. Elite guard style.

“It’s just a temporary truce. I won’t mind if you call me names later but now it seems fair we’d be nice,” she explained, brushing her servos on her tibulens just to grip at the sword again. It had to be enough.

Especially since Slipstream had to regain her stance. Charging at her again, Slipstream decided this time she would be the one to tease Windblade even if a little. Wouldn’t Skywarp’s reality warping powers be in high demand now. But she herself could still make do. Sliding from side to side was the best way to approach Windblade’s waning patience. At least she thought so.

“Then I have to say, Windblade,” she said confidently, making another dodge. “I can’t remember the last time the combat felt so good.”

“I thought it was all you Seekers get to do in your free time?”

“We do. But it’s less exciting than you think,” Slipstream ex-vented heavily. Still, the victory was just in her servos, it was the perfect time to start attacking again. “Every Seeker is taught in the same way, we’re all supposed to be the same with minor tweaks. When it comes to battle, you don’t have much variety.”

However, the weirdest thing happened. Instead of a quick remark or talkback, Windblade appeared more worried than Slipstream expected to see her. “I’m… Almost flattered. If it wasn’t so damning for you being… You.”

Seeing her grip on her sword almost loosen, Slipstream herself got lost in the headlights. Why did it suddenly bring her down so much? Why would she even care? Within all this even Slipstream’s pose battle pose unwound ever so slightly.

Not that her voice did, “I have no idea what you mean.”

Windblade’s brow ridges furrowed, “You’re all expected to act the same? Every single Seeker?”

“It’s not an individual talent show. We’re supposed to be a hivemind, a team,” her answer was final. Nothing else to add.

“Slipstream…”

Yet hearing Windblade say her name with this much care and softness made something inside her tremble. Her thoughts weren’t of anything necessary, not ever. She was supposed to be a unit, get the job done, be prepared for the next mission to come through. Only her job was just a little higher, as she not only carried out the work but also commanded those other units.

Yes, Slipstream learnt their names to maintain them better. Yes, she couldn’t tell a single thing about any of her comrades.

Before any of the explanations could come through, she suddenly saw Windblade’s optics now open even wider. Some kind of fear overwhelmed her, “Slipstream! Look out, behind you!”

She couldn’t even turn around. Not as the feral Earth beast was right behind her, wanting to snuff out her spark. The Seeker manuals did not mention the name of this thing, however she could tell it meant nothing but harm.

In the moment of the creature’s big paw slapping across Slipstream chassis, just a mere sight of the sword appeared before her own optics. Quicker than any of the punches, Windblade already tried to get the big brown furry creature away. Even if Slipstream just kiliks before had the display of her strength, she could tell she was struggling. All while Slipstream herself fell down and couldn’t believe any part of it.

Though Windblade was much more agile than she had thought of before. Her swift movements of the sword, though not harming that furry thing, already made it swivel in fear. Strike after strike, the creature started moving backwards at the fury of hers. Especially with a struggling battle cry forcing itself from the back of her vocoder.

And Slipstream could only look at this, all astonished. Damn.

The creature was already backtracking, when Windblade had to do her one last move. Seeing the sun peaking through the heavy clouds, she grasped even firmer to her sword. Her helm looked around as she finally found the perfect ramp to execute her strike. Then it was the matter of the split micro-klik.

Windblade rushed at the slope, letting it launch her better. She jumped off, getting the height she had wanted. And when the correct breem struck, she pulled her Stormfall Sword and let the sun shine on it. Letting it go directly into the two black dots the creature probably used as the optics. Not that the sun was ever going to obtuse its vision but as more of an intimidation tactic. Which worked perfectly, as the creature soon ran away.

Ex-vent got lost in Slipstream’s chest. Her optics were so focused on Windblade she couldn’t look away. Almost as if the sun itself gave her the beautiful afterglow. As if there was no AllSpark, she was the AllSpark herself.

“You didn’t get hurt, right?”

“No,” she started but as she realized just how trembling it sounded, she cleared her vocoder. “No. I didn’t. Thank you for… Thank you.”

Windblade’s faceplate brightened up even more with a smile. Everything about her was radiant, ethereal. When she exchanged her servo to help Slipstream stand again, she thought the warmth in her spark would melt her through.

But she did it. Wouldn’t Slipstream regret it all her lifespan if she hadn’t done so.

“Nice to hear something like this from you,” she remarked, still smiling. “Don’t you want to just be an even battle? Not exactly a Seeker style but let’s get a rematch some other time.”

“Sure,” she admitted, her processors suddenly getting a wicked idea. “If you want to lose again.”

Ever so slightly, Windblade chuckled. Then as her optics softened she said, “By the way… I still think you’ve got to be the most unique Seeker I’ve ever met. Don’t twist it around. I mean it in the best way possible.”

To which Slipstream couldn’t even begin to form a response.

In all honesty, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt like this. Not that she could even name the feeling enveloping her.

As she and Windblade returned to their sitting slope, something within Slipstream changed. Yes, the annoyance of being stuck, especially with an Autobot still rang through her. But it was much less noticeable than before. Instead, Slipstream kept looking at her companion of sorts, trying to almost be able to read what was going on. Wasn’t that a fool’s chore, especially when it came to her. Cause who Windblade was, if not the legendary cityspeaker who could access minds almost with an ease. Right then, Slipstream suspected if anyone there would have their mind read, it would be herself.

Funny. All while Windblade would be able to access her mind, Slipstream herself was struggling to make sense of any of her own thoughts.

Cycle after cycle, the time had passed so slowly, Slipstream almost didn’t want to think about how long it’s even been. Information not retained, she deserved to simply go forward without it. If it was even that easy though, since she couldn’t move forward. Stuck at the mercy of the weather. Definitely not the fate she would expect for herself.

Her optics still followed through to meet Windblade’s stare, if for a simple micro-klik. Why then instead of looking away, Slipstream wanted to meet her stare, she couldn’t even begin to understand. All she knew was that the gentleness in Windblade’s features was almost soothing. There was a certain kind of patience within her, one that Slipstream appreciated even more then. As if what came around, went around for her. The only thing betraying her mood was slight trembles of her frame due to the growing cold. This one Slipstream had always noticed.

Just like that, they sat next to each other. Slipstream, still trying to catch the single coherent thought and possibly gaining just one. How the storms swirled before their optics, time passing, as they sat next to each other. Yet in some ways being miles apart.

Then Slipstream had an idea. One so outlandish it was probably her circuits getting frozen. But if she was going to get deactivated soon, she wouldn’t regret this action. At least she thought so.

“So you… Autobots,” she tried her damn hardest not to say this word with her utmost contempt. With moderate success. “How do you spend that outlandish amount of free time you have? Since you barely train as we Decepticons do.”

Not falling for it this time, Windblade looked to the left and as their optics met, she playfully raised her brow ridge, “You think so?”

“You most certainly don’t spend as much time on it as we do.”

“Then you’d be surprised. Most of the time I actually like to spend by training. I don’t think you’ve ever been there but my Amica Chromia’s Conjunx Ironhide runs a great gym in Iacon City,” Windblade remarked, a smile on her features as she thought of her friends. Though quickly it winded down, “At least, he had it, before the war. Chromia and I would spend all our time training, trying to best each other. I haven’t seen her in ages…”

Such nostalgia drawn from her words, especially from these last ones. From her vague and distant recollections, Slipstream could somewhat remember what Chromia looked like. Another femme from Caminus, another one that chose Autobots. What for even?

Slipstream hummed, “That I can believe in. You’re probably the most skilled Autobot from the ones I’ve seen.”

“Then you definitely haven’t met Chromia,” once more all stuck in her processors, Windblade reminiscent. “She was the best of all… To answer your question, we’re not exactly a monolith. Some like sports, some like new movies, most like spending time together. When the free time comes, there’s nothing better than a glass of energon shared between friends.”

Within her spark, Slipstream felt such an indescribable tug. One of nostalgia but not to things that were in her own life. Whenever her processors rewound back to Kaon, she truly didn’t miss a single thing from the vorns taken off her life for training, rules and loneliness. Yet that was who she was supposed to be, no turning back.

There was just this pathetic overwhelming feeling within her. Maybe it wasn’t longing for what once was but for what could be. Hearing the stories from the Autobot side, Slipstream’s spark didn’t fill her with just hatred but also desire. One of living with others, not as the enemy but as someone she could trust. And among the smiles and ideas of that other Cybertron was Windblade. Someone who appreciated it even more than she had ever done.

Steady ex-vent escaped her, as her vocalizer let out solemn tones, “What about Caminus? Do you ever miss it?”

“Every solar-cycle,” Windblade looked up, almost as if within her, she believed she could see Caminus way up high. “But I’ve done all I could do there. Cybertron needed me, so I stayed. That’s how I got my second home.”

“Such heroic nonsense,” Slipstream rolled her optics but that strange feeling couldn’t go away. Maybe by this point, it never would.

Staying in that one place, the weather before them still hasn't changed in any exponential way. The storm however seemed to be just a little more kind to their optics. Unlike this however the temperatures seemed to plummet down with each klik. Not that Slipstream had noticed much but by looking at Windblade, the deduction was more than clear.

“How are you… Holding up?” Rather awkwardly, Slipstream asked.

“F-Fine,” she muttered, a shiver still to her processors. “Just fine, I’ll manage.”

“Don’t you have any ideas for the down time?” She accented it by doing air quotes with her digits. “I thought you Autobots would have some sort of frolic activity for times like this.”

Giving it just a bit of the thought, Windblade’s features lightened up. Suddenly, the idea was clear, as well as the path. All while Slipstream just kept second guessing what in the world was going on in her processors. What else was new, anyway.

“As a matter of fact, yeah… I’ve never tried this but let’s see…” standing up, Windblade examined their current whereabouts. Not that she hadn’t done it probably millions of times during the last few vorns. Still, if it didn’t stop her.

“Never tried it? What are you even trying to do?”

“Okay, I have never tried it myself but I’ve seen it on some strange videos. Apparently, when it’s snowing, the Earthlings like to roll around the snow and make figures out of it! Or was it ice… Never mind, we can try both,” with a weird kind of excitement, Windblade then tried to find the perfect pile for her idea.

All while Slipstream didn’t move an inch, “Windblade, this is dumb even for the typical Autobot standards.”

“I’m not a typical Autobot,” Windblade turned around just to wink back at her. Primus dammit, how did she keep on doing this to her, Slipstream would rather remain silent about this. Turning around again, with a laugh she added, “Would you prefer to freeze to deactivation or actually do something?”

“Seems unlikely I would freeze there,” she answered, waiting for a better contra to come to her processors. It did not. So she stood up again and walked to her, “Okay, fine. Humor me, what do we need.”

“Snow.”

“Won’t be a problem. Anything else?”

“A touch of imagination. Can you do that?”

Windblade put her servo on her hip, another wave of confidence flowing through her. Even worse, Slipstream couldn’t lie, she was beginning to like seeing it. 

As her wings fluttered, she said, “Of course, I can do that! I’m the captain of the Elite Seeker guard and I have thought of countless battle strategies.”

“Slipstream, no offense but that’s almost the opposite of creative work,” before the whole tirade of hers would be heard, Windblade cut to her, walking to the nearest drift. Her servos touched the rather feeble snow and she kneeled in front of it. “Haven’t you thought of… Anything else that would be something like fun?”

“Fun?” Slipstream repeated the word almost as if it was an insult. “Unlike you I don’t have time for things like these. I have to train and better myself and show the Seekers, or even worse Starscream, or even worse worse Shockwave, or even the worst Megatron that I am a correct bot in a correct place.”

The swift wind rang in her audio receptors. Things said that could have never been unsaid. Or in Windblade’s turn – unheard.

Her own servos then clenched in fists, rage flowing through her. As if her own boiling point was right there, within her servos’ reach. But Slipstream had no idea what else she could do. Stranded, alone, with her enemy, desperate for anything that would resemble a real feeling, one she was deprived of, almost all her lifespan. If that realness had to be the most pathetic she’d ever felt then so be it. At least it seemed tangible.

What has gotten into her own self, Slipstream had no idea. Maybe it truly was the desperate point in which she would try to sing of her circumstances as they actually were. Just why right there, why in front of Windblade? So many scenes happened before her optics, one that were candidates to speak up about what was happening inside. So many mechs too. Yet somehow the only one worth admitting it all to, was Windblade. The enemy of hers, one she should destroy at whatever opportunity possible.

And then? Right then, Windblade seemed to be her only camaraderie. Only one who listened and understood. How pathetic it all had to be when the one you seemed to trust the most was one you were taught to hate ever since you remembered. Someone who showed you more kindness in several astro-cycles than your whole faction ever did.

Hence Slipstream stood there. Words both wanting to spill and forbidding to ever come out. So much so, she didn’t even hear Windblade’s pede-steps walking towards her.

Not touching her just yet, Windblade took out her servo. Approachable as an open book, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to mention anything. We’ll just try to build a snowman and I don’t need to say a word. But if you ever feel like spilling out, I’ll listen. Okay, Slipstream? Nod if yes.”

Slipstream nodded. When their stares met again, she could’ve sworn Windblade’s optics were never gentler.

“Great! From what I know, we gotta have two huge snow balls on top of each other to create that thing. You start turning one and I’ll get to the other,” Windblade got back to business.

“Would be easier if we both could fly,” Slipstream grumbled.

“Hmm, maybe so. But with more manual work, it’ll take more time.”

“Why would that be a good thing,” she scoffed, trying to see the point in making it.

Still with a confident look, Windblade remarked, “Maybe cause the only things we have right now are snow and time. Aside from each other.”

Well. No reason to be even more negative.

“Fffine. If it works out.”

To which Windblade smiled. Now that was the much needed method to the madness.

As she turned around, Windblade started to roll her own snowball. Taking bits and pieces of snow and sticking them to each other together as best as she could. When the ball was in a rollable form, she did just so. All while Slipstream learnt and observed. Even then clinging into the Seeker roles from before.

Without another look, Slipstream tried to attempt just the same feat as one before her very optics just kliks ago. Falling onto her knees, she took a scoop of snow into her servos, molding it into… Something. She thought. Though as she took the needed snowballs, almost in an instant they disintegrated. Even right then her jawline started to hurt from constantly gritting her dermas.

“You gotta go to the left,” Windblade called. Quite slowly, her snowball started to take its shape. “The snow is stickier.”

Rolling her optics away, Slipstream began to sculpt the needed ball into the proper shape. As much as she hated to admit it, that was truly solid advice. Her servos started to see more remnants of the snowy texture, so much so Slipstream couldn’t help but to smile. There was something soothing about the look and feel of the cold. In Kaon it was always too damn hot. The Earth suddenly had its bright spots.

“Okay. To be completely fair with you, I’m not the best in creative work either,” Windblade shrugged, not truly putting much weight to it. Almost as if it was but a simple mention. “I’m much better at learning the theory. Or making bets with others.”

“Right. Now you will tell me that you keep a tally,” Slipstream said, her efforts finally resulting in a shiny snowball ready to roll around.

“19841. If not for the war I’d be in the 30 thousands,” she boasted happily.

Yet something within Slipstream tugged again. Just one mention from Windblade was enough for her personal spiral to continue.

“Truth be told, I don’t even know if I’m good at creative work. I’m not sure if I have ever even gotten what’s best for me.”

Once more, Slipstream didn’t know why she even mentioned this to Windblade. Possibly out of the necessity to be heard when the world had never felt this low. However, a part of Slipstream’s processors had suggested something entirely different, foreign and even for the Seeker guard captain – frankly scary. As if the truth was knocking at her door and if Slipstream wouldn’t answer, it’d be the end of the line for her.

Not that it wouldn’t have been the end, whatever else she had done. Both paths colliding in the worst way. Just in the same way as she and Windblade collided once more. Within this action, she looked at her with concern and asked:

“What do you mean by that?”

There was no way to beat around it. She knew right then Windblade wouldn’t pressure. Yet somehow the pressure within herself was the most unbearable one she had ever felt.

“You’re aware that I was cold constructed rather than being forged, right?” When she nodded, Slipstream followed. “But do you know how Seekers are generally built?”

“Not really actually.”

Hearing those words, Slipstream stopped. Ex-vent stuck in her chest, looking around. Maybe there should be a way out for her. Maybe finally she needed to say those exact words. All in all, didn’t she always think of herself as someone who took it all head on. Her optics met Windblade’s again, as she mustered enough courage.

“They… I mean, Megatron. He has this sort of template to copy and paste however he likes. That was how even before the war, Starscream was cold constructed, he was the first one to have this be tested on. Clearly, it was a success, so when the Decepticons grew, Megatron took this template and started to create his perfect, obedient Seeker army,” though Slipstream’s voice was as rational as possible, she knew the part coming to her will be the hardest. The inside of her mouth never felt this dry, as the words she had spoken were never supposed to see the light of the solar-cycle. “The template only had mechs in mind and Megatron worked with it to give each a different power, to… I guess perfect them. After a while they upgraded the template to also have femme variants. I was the first one.”

As words dripped from Slipstream’s glossa, she almost didn’t see the world outside of the glimpses of her past, her processors insisted upon showing her. An experiment that all things considered should be a success. Even if she herself did think so, it still never felt so.

Her view didn’t even encompass Windblade. Almost like her sentences were in the vacuum. Yet just her presence seemed to soothe her. If only a little.

“They constructed me to be the first femme Seeker. To be resilient to the lowest temperatures. It’s pretty much the reason why I manage to endure all… This. But that’s how I was made. Just an echo of what was already in use,” Slipstream’s voice softened. There was almost no anger within her. All she had left was being worn out by her life. “I think that’s also how I got to be the captain. I had the privilege to be the first. I wanted to fulfill my role the best way I could.”

“The role you never got to choose,” Windblade summed it all up. Just like a sword hitting the target.

Something within her spark trembled. In the worst way possible, “I should be happy I even have this position. Without it, I’d be…”

Before her optics the world kept spinning and Slipstream couldn’t have been given a chance to even sort it out. Why did it hurt so much to talk about, why was it all so painful to remember? She should truly be happy to be the way she was. Elite guard captain who could do everything. The strongest, the prodigy, the first one. She was supposed to have it all.

Then Windblade asked, voice gentler than anything she had ever heard, “Who would you be, Slipstream?”

Looking back at her, for the first time in her life Slipstream didn’t know what to say.

How pathetic it must’ve been, she couldn’t comprehend. The beaten up Seeker who was trying to prove her position, time and time again. Never given a chance, never being listened to. Never until a damn Autobot gave her a chance. How low had she sunken, how awful had her life become. If it was ever worth a scrap anyway. 

Injured, powerless, humiliated, Slipstream fell quiet. Her optics closing, shoulder pads dropped from all the tension in her chassis. Her back propped against the snowball not even finished. All Slipstream could do was to answer as shortly yet as truthfully as she possibly could.

“Frankly, I have no damn clue.”

And she would have stayed this way. She would let herself be covered by the snow, drifted away and never found by her team. It was all useless anyway. The frost would take her over and she wouldn’t feel a thing. Maybe this time finally in her own element.

Among all that, Slipstream felt something peculiar. Somebot peculiar in all actuality. Her optics opened just a little, as she felt Windblade sitting close to her. Even closer than before.

“On Caminus, we are very connected to the ancient Primes. I lived all my life hearing stories of the amazing creators and bold Titans that ruled the colonies before us. It was all over there and I fell in love with it,” she started, a hint of sadness behind her voice as she spoke so fondly about her origin. “The path to becoming a cityspeaker is a very long one. But a pretty gratifying one too, y’know. I love what I do and I love to listen.”

“Gonna rub it in my faceplate how you have everything figured out, huh?” Slipstream’s derma pursed almost in anger.

“That’s not what I meant,” explaining shortly, Windblade went back to her story. “I have accessed countless minds and saw many different things. Of Titans and my friends, and even the enemies. I saw and heard a lot that was there. So I can say you’re not the only one who doesn't have it all figured out.”

Curious, Slipstream turned back to face her, “What are you trying to say?”

“I dunno. I just think that if a giant Titan who can destroy planets doesn’t know what they want to do, a Seeker not being able to do it is not a bad thing,” she looked up, almost as if to see if all those giants were present in the sky. As if the stars spelled out their names. “I’ve seen millennia old Titans who have found their place and purpose mere thousands vorns ago. You still have time to find yours.”

But once more, Slipstream couldn’t find the correct answer. Hence she simply joined to look into the stars, hoping to see something that could guide her.

“Do they listen back?”

“Every time. Funny, they like when I talk about myself. They like to listen about my workouts with Chromia or how I like spicy energon cubes. I think after so many vorns of being alone they want someone that listens, so they can listen back,” finally at the corners of Windblade’s derma there was a hint of smile. Slipstream almost couldn’t look her in the optics. In the worst possible way, she focused on her dermas, so full and so enticing in their color, saying words she never thought she’d hear. “Sometimes I feel like only they understand how it is to be me and wield this much responsibility. So whenever I can I just want to give back.”

Weirdly enough, she truly did have that something about her which made Slipstream want to listen. Even if she was an Autobot. Even if Slipstream would never tell any of it to her.

Words she had heard were loud and clear, something she could never say about any of the Decepticons. Not even about her team. So there she was. Stuck, injured and listening to an Autobot who unfortunately made more sense than any mech she had ever met in her life. Yet even more so, she so desperately wanted to listen to Windblade, saying anything. About her world, about who she was, what she liked, about everything that was hers and no one else’s. She wanted to meet Windblade, not as the powerful enemy but rather an exceptionally smart, wonderful and determined femme.

All while Slipstream’s spark never felt like this way before.

Almost dryly, she whispered, “Why are you telling me all of this?”

This time it was Windblade who ex-vented. Not exasperatedly but to brace herself for things to be said. Even Slipstream herself couldn’t comprehend this fact.

“I’ve met many mechs in my life. But you can tell that,” she added almost cheekily. Then she went back to her previous tone, “Believe me, I’ve even met Seekers whose minds I read when I was first on Cybertron. There’s not much going on in Starscream’s processors.”

“Do tell.”

“I haven’t accessed your processors but I can tell you, Slipstream – there’s rarely a mech I meet with one as unique as yours,” she admitted, looking straight back at her. “Whatever you decide on who you want to be… I know you’ll excel at that.”

“Even if I don’t find it that easily?” A question escaped her, almost as a confirmation.

“I think that’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to rush it or anything. And if you ever need help, I’ll listen back to you. I know you like to talk.”

While she punctuated with a smile so beautiful, Slipstream almost forgot to ex-vent. Somehow, somewhat within Windblade’s smile, she knew one thing. That it would all be alright for her. For them both.

“Thank you. Windblade.”

“Any time. Slipstream.”

The silence overwhelmed them both once more. Slipstream’s processors both went wildly in any possible direction but also became calmer than she had ever been. Cycles upon cycles of wanting to scream what her spark felt and never being given an answer. Just this once when Autobot out of everyone listened, she never felt more understood. After a moment, Windblade looked back into the stars. So Slipstream joined.

When Windblade most likely saw the fallen Titans of the past, Slipstream could swear the only thing she had seen was Windblade’s name written within the specs in the sky.

In a moment, she looked back at her, “C’mon. Let’s finish that snowman of yours.”

“And here I thought you would never ask,” Windblade grinned, getting back on her pedes. Oh, she could stare at that grin forever.

Within several pushes, Slipstream formed the snowball into the size she had wanted. All while Windblade already finished hers and put it in the designated place. As she got closer she once more had heard Windblade’s instructions.

“Okay. Now you gotta put it on top of this one.”

“Got it,” Slipstream nodded and did just that. The snowball sat comfortably on top, creating a little tower.

They both looked at it all conspicuously, not really knowing what else to do with it. What was the purpose of a build like so, Slipstream had no idea. Judging by Windblade’s faceplate even she wasn’t sure where it was all going.

“I think it needs a face,” she finally said, looking at the fixture from an angle. “Allow me to do it.”

Taking a step further, Windblade started to paint a pair of optics and a smiling derma onto the snowman with her pointing digit. Wasn’t the most graceful thing but it’d do. Wanting to call it done, Windblade gave it a finishing touch. One that made Slipstream’s optics widen.

“Here,” Windblade said, revealing the snowman with optics, derma and well. Autobot logo on its chest. “I think humans also use some sort of orange stick concoction for this but we don’t have it, so that’s about right.”

“An Autobot? Oh, c’mon, what do you take me for,” Slipstream said and took a step towards the snowman. Her own digit started painting what felt right. Which was a Decepticon logo. “Here. Now it’s done.”

“Hmm. Why did I know this would happen,” Windblade chuckled, looking knowingly back at her.

“What? You can do it, so I can do it too.”

“You didn’t erase my logo.”

She shrugged, “Our snowman can be both. A Decepticon spy.”

“Sure. Or an Autobot spy.”

“As if,” Slipstream said with a laugh. How long she hadn’t done it, she had no idea. All excited, she showed off the creation, “Behold – Snowatron!”

Amusingly, Windblade was not amused, “Snowatron? Really?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have a better idea?”

“Actually… Nope, I like it. Snowatron is great.”

To which Slipstream smiled. This time completely genuinely.

Next thing they knew, they both sat down within the snow, still waiting for the signal to go off. This time propping their backs right at the Snowatron, which couldn’t help but make Slipstream happier than she could express. Maybe it was also that byproduct of Windblade being by her side. But this one she kept to herself.

Suddenly, she could feel Windblade’s frame twitching. She looked down, confusion painted on her faceplate.

“That’s nothing,” Windblade reassured her weakly. “It’s just the temperatures dropping, I’ll be f-fine.”

“Not on my watch,” Slipstream said, as her arm embraced Windblade’s frame. Pulling her closer to her own chassis. Her own hurting wing covering her away.

“Y-You don’t have to–“

“No. It’s fine,” reassuring her, Slipstream fixed her position. Almost feeling her spark flutter in her chest. “I’ve told you. They said it’s my specialty.”

“Thanks,” she said meekly. Then as she looked around, her optics focused on one thing in particular. “Look. The clouds have moved away and this thing. H-Haven’t been there before.”

That was when Slipstream saw it. Clouds drifting revealed the mountain top as clear as it could possibly be. Her optics focused, as she had realized what Windblade meant. The only ticket home.

“We could… Go there…”

“We have to go there,” Windblade said firmly.

“Of course. But let’s stay here for a kilik. You can’t go there, when your systems are frozen,” once more, Slipstream stood her ground.

And Windblade smiled again. In the most breathtaking smile she could, “Thank you.”

Her own arms embraced Slipstream’s middle, pulling her even closer. Staying within her arms, as best as she could. Their way to their teams finally revealed itself. Yet all Slipstream could think about was Windblade, right by her side. Everything she had said and done for her. Even if she didn’t need to do any of it.

Within the winding snowstorm, Slipstream could never imagine a place better than right there and then.

It was the only way. Slipstream should know it from the very start. Just why did that special kind of dread overwhelm her again.

The Earth breems started to wind down one by one, quicker than Slipstream had ever thought they would. Though in all actuality the information Seekers were given about the infiltration of Earth was scarce to say the least. Of course, no one would believe they could do things right. Every sign pointed towards this being either a suicide mission or a quick way to dispose of the useless Seekers, Megatron no longer wanted by his side. Just not for Slipstream.

In any case, she kept on climbing the mountain as best as she could. No amount of wearing her down would ever equal the determination she needed to make her name known. Her memory wouldn’t get deactivated within the mountain tops. So with all she had, she kept on climbing, achieving that last slim chance of getting the signal ready.

Besides her, Primus help her, strong will, Slipstream didn’t want to mention her other drive. This being Windblade taking the lead and climbing up that mountain first. A crackpot of emotion boiled within Slipstream, unsure which one would come out on top. Maybe all she had wanted was for Windblade to survive. Slipstream just didn’t know why.

Wasn’t this a funny feeling. Starting the mission with the energon-lust to destroy her, then Slipstream looked carefully at each little action of Windblade’s. Again, she wasn’t sure of the reason. Something within her wanted them both to succeed. Just so she herself would take her spark within her servos. What did it mean for herself, Slipstream truly couldn’t answer.

Hence within the Himalayan winds swaying them both, her servos gripped tightly onto the mere and steep surface she could rely upon. With another stronger whiff, she could see Windblade’s chassis press even harder to the mountain. As if another blow would be her own finishing one.

Slipstream’s optics narrowed, hoping the snowstorm wouldn’t obtuse her vision any more, “Windblade! Is everything okay?”

“I’m alright!” she answered, shouting through the whistling winds. Barely but Slipstream caught that single glance of Windblade looking back at her. Then turning towards the top, she continued, “The peak is too steep for us to land on it but it’s getting close! Hold on, we’re almost there!”

“Got nowhere to go, anyway!” Slipstream answered and hearing that micro-klik of Windblade’s snicker, it truly was all she had needed to proceed.

Which made her stop for a little while. What was coming into her?

Truth be told, no matter how long of a time Slipstream spent with Windblade, it just made everything too complicated. What went down between them… Even if most mechs would shrug and say it was nothing, Slipstream was not just some mech. But Windblade wasn’t just some mech either. That was when the storm for Slipstream became even more so literal.

All her life, Slipstream was taught the way of the Decepticons. She was cold constructed a Decepticon and to the Dark Spark, she would probably get deactivated one too. Yet everything about that particular solar-cycle… It wasn’t the Decepticon way. No matter what Windblade inflicted upon her was, probably some strange cityspeaker abilities. No matter that, by her side, Slipstream hadn’t felt better in all of her life. It shouldn’t be like that.

Slipstream was a Decepticon and Windblade was an Autobot. They already made their choices long before meeting each other. But was it actually Slipstream’s choice?

She should be stronger. Everything she was told and taught couldn’t have gone away with the blow of the wind and the strike of the blade. Yet the worst part was that Slipstream couldn’t stop going back, couldn’t stop focusing on Windblade’s beautiful visage and strangely kind words. Even worse, at that point, she was ready to follow her anywhere she’d take her. How pathetic it all was, she couldn’t put it into words. Definitely not worthy of the title of the captain of the elite Seeker unit.

Her servos clung to the places higher and higher, following Windblade’s direction. As much as the Decepticon teachings were messing with every piece of her own processors, Slipstream couldn’t be more happy for her own resistance towards the temperatures. Involuntarily, she thought of Windblade’s own abilities or lack thereof. How she managed, Slipstream had no idea. She only stared in wonder, as her unruly processors went back to her faceplate time and time again.

Another quick stop ahead of them, the clouds started to mud the viewpoint. Being on the lower end, Slipstream couldn’t help but to wonder if anything of it was already clear for Windblade. All she could hear and barely see was her taking out the Stormfall Sword to guide her way. That was the time she had heard it.

“Slipstream! I am in the position, I can reach the signal!” She shouted amidst the winds, the last glimpses of hope within her voice. “Stay there, I’ll try to make another call!”

“Get on it quickly!” Slipstream answered, knowing whatever else she wanted to say was simply unnecessary. Such as the fact that, well. There wasn’t any place for her to go, wasn’t there.

So she clung onto the mountain motionlessly, hoping her own will would carry her forwards. Even if it was just a couple of kiliks, the anticipation within Slipstream wanted to convince her, it was an actual eternity. One during which she truly couldn’t have been lonelier with only one unwanted guest at the doors. Those damn thoughts that couldn’t leave her alone. Especially one she deemed the most pitiful of all – she truly hoped Windblade was alright.

Fortunately, Slipstream’s processors didn’t have to work overtime any moment longer, as almost with an ease, Windblade came back to her. Excitement spread from Slipstream’s spark all across her own chassis, awaiting any news from her. Her limits so close to being reached, all she really wanted was to hear Windblade’s vocoder speaking to her again.

“Okay. I think this one came through. I even heard something back, so that could be the site we were looking for,” Windblade explained as calmly as she could, this time looking right into her optics. “I’ll go back down. There’s too little place up top for me to be with you, so it’s best that I wait on the ground. But I know you’ll handle it.”

Punctuating her last words, Windblade smiled back at her. No amount of high quality engex would make Slipstream more charged up than just this one sight.

Instead of anything else, Slipstream nodded, “Got it. I’ll be quick.”

“See you on the other side.”

With that, Windblade slid right back down the mountain. Surely it had to be easier than the tedious climbing. Slipstream looked up. Only one way for her to go, though. Taking a long ex-vent, she braced herself as best as she could. She was made to take on challenges as such.

Last bits of her willpower carried her through the dreaded top. Firstly, Slipstream was almost taken aback at the sight. Above the clouds, yet still, without any motion. She was so used to the look of the clouds, rushing through them with an unearthly speed. Even on Cybertron, she was considered one of the fastest and the most nimble of the Seekers. Yet this time, no matter how wearied her chassis was, Slipstream could stop for that single moment. Take in things that she often took as something natural, almost for granted. This time, however, it was hers and no one else’s for the taking.

Though she wasn’t there for pleasure. The business was her main and should be her only goal. Brushing away all the wonder within her, Slipstream took her arm and started dialing. Praying to whichever Prime listened that her signal would be heard.

“Nova Storm! Thundercracker! Can you hear me, repeat, can you hear me!?” Slipstream called out to her team as firmly as she possibly could. Yet the only thing that answered her had to be the wind blowing. Within the limits of her power, she gritted her teeth and called out more. “Acid Storm! Thrust! Anyone, copy, do you read me? This is Slipstream, your captain. I am in peril and I need immediate support! Report back to me at once! Anyone! Anyone…”

Her vocoder started to crack within itself, unsure if she had made the slightest sound. At the top of the mountain, Slipstream should feel the high ground, the power she wanted all this time. But as her pleads remained ignored one by one, she realized one crucial thing.

She was all alone. In the most pathetic way possible.

Uncertain, unarmed and at the mercy of some Autobot. Even worse, this damned Autobot made her processors race in directions she wasn’t sure of before. Anyone who could see her right then would deem Slipstream as a failure, not worthy of an important task. One of seeking out the Autobot forces and taking the AllSpark to the rightful servos of the Decepticons.

Not that it was even the end of the story. Slipstream truly didn’t have a single spark by her. Thundercracker and Nova Storm were but pawns in the Decepticons’ plans. There wasn’t much to their presence, Slipstream didn’t know much about them, even from their training solar-cycles. She didn’t have anyone to speak of so fondly as Windblade did about Chromia. Maybe she never had anyone just like this. Maybe except those moments she shared with Windblade. Truth be told, when it all would fail, who would be by her side? Windblade? Would that be a blessing or a curse?

Hence there was only one conclusion Slipstream could come to. She was pathetic. She was useless. Everything she was made for and what she had sworn by seemed like a distant memory. Maybe that was why she couldn’t let it go unheard. Or in actuality, she knew no one would hear. So she spoke away.

“I have… I have been wounded in battle and those past cycles, the only mech accompanying me was Windblade. It isn’t much but from her I’ve experienced more kindness and understanding than from any Decepticon,” words fell from Slipstream’s derma almost effortlessly. Oh, how she hated that. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. Maybe some sort of Camien magic or anything like this. I just know that… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Even with the gentle wisp of her vocoder, Slipstream spoke the words she was afraid of. And no Seeker should ever be afraid of anything. Except the disappointment from the servos of their superiors.

Just like that Slipstream got exactly what she was bargaining for.

“What are you talking about? Of course, you know what to do!”

Her optics doubled in size, seeing the contact info. No, it couldn’t be that out of everyone…

“Starscream?” She asked in disbelief. “How did you–“

“Forget about it! The Nemesis had tracked your signal and well so, because you clearly forgot who you were!” His voice as always “If you’re in such a peril, Slipstream, then remind me, who even are you?”

That was the thing – she wasn’t sure anymore.

Was everything she had ever learnt about a treacherous lie? Were the Decepticon teachings and cause just a footnote in history? Everything Windblade spoke of regarding her… Simply, why did it all feel so real for her to finally acknowledge that what Slipstream knew about herself could just as well be a lie?

Her ex-vent got shallower. Starscream was awaiting an answer and all but a shrug wouldn’t be sufficient. With all her might, Slipstream’s processors rewound back. Before it all had happened. The Decepticon cause made her, gave her life and everything she ever had. There was no way this could go to waste due to some Autobot sweet talking to her.

No matter what went on inside herself, Slipstream knew the most important truth. That a lie repeated thousands of times would finally become the truth. When the line between the two started to blur, all Slipstream could do was to speak of her own personal truth. Even if it all might as well have been a lie all along. 

“My name is Slipstream of Kaon. I am the first femme Seeker and the Captain of the elite guard. My goal is only to retrieve the AllSpark and finish off all the Autobots. So the Decepticons can take what’s theirs on Cybertron.”

Regardless if it was factual or not, at least Slipstream knew one thing. With enough mind put to it, it could become the truth. Her truth.

“And don’t you forget about it,” with confidence and a weird sense of pride, Starscream confirmed. “Report to me immediately when you get out of this ludicrous peril.”

“Right! Of course, sir!” Quickly, Slipstream’s back straightened. Though in a moment, she remembered a big caveat in this whole ordeal. “Are you not going to send any reinforcements to help me?”

“What did you just say? Clearly, you can handle it all by yourself!” Oh, she could hear his optics roll as he said so. “Peace through tyranny, Slipstream. At least show me you understand it, unlike our weakling current leader.”

Another bigger ex-vent escaped her mouth, “Understood.”

Even without seeing him, Slipstream could imagine that smirk of his, at her exact words. Their comm ended shortly after, not that she could recall if she had pressed the correct buttons. No matter what would unfold, there were actual truths regarding Slipstream’s situation.

She was still alone. And right then, she had to make a choice around Windblade. One that would possibly determine what kind of Decepticon she could call herself.

One last look at the sky spread all across her vision and Slipstream was ready to face whatever she had to, down there. As ways became tangled and the options scarce, she had to prove her Decepticon wit. Once and for all.

Without another thought, she had descended back where she came from. Swift movements through the mountain carried her right towards the ground. Right where she could already spot Windblade waiting for her. Something within Slipstream’s spark trembled at just this mere sight. That she was still there for her. Not abandoning her at the first chance possible.

No, she thought to herself. She knew her mission. Tyranny and victory, those were the only things that mattered.

Though upon seeing her, Windblade gave her that sweet smile, “So! Did you get the signal?”

“All commlinks on Earth are scrap,” technically, this one wasn’t a lie. Primus knew where the Nemesis boarded by then. “There was no chance to ever contact my team. No matter how hard I try.”

A shadow of worry overcast her features, “There’s nothing you can do?”

“Not a single thing left.”

To which something within Windblade’s optics changed. Then she took out her arm and accessed her inner panels. One last hope it was.

Not that Slipstream could realize so, “What are you doing?”

Windblade didn’t answer. Instead, she kept on fixing up the settings buried within her panels. As it was all done, she retracted the screens and looked back at her. Only determination laid beneath her stare.

“Do you remember the masking of my signal I have up, so the Decepticons won’t target me?” With a tentative nod of Slipstream’s, she continued. “I disabled it. Now your troops can find me and with that… They can find you too.”

“You did it… For me?”

Then without a single extra smile, all solemn Windblade answered, “You didn’t have any other possible choice. Standing there and seeing you get deactivated is not how it should go. I want to help, Slipstream and if that’s the only way.”

The only way.

Her only choice.

Then it all clicked in Slipstream’s mind.

No relief. No thankfulness. Simply the anger she’d been surpassing all those breems spent with Windblade. To think that seeing her, Slipstream’s processors would have suggested anything else than pity and the need of destruction. Windblade was nothing but a self-righteous Autobot with no reference to actual reality. That was the true difference between the Autobots and the Decepticons. At least, the Decepticons knew how the world worked. The lies of the Autobots could have never become the truth.

As well as another reason. The Autobots could have been preaching about their need to give everyone a fair chance and a choice all they had wanted. Yet when the time came to it, Windblade had taken it from her. Within Slipstream’s glaring red optics she couldn’t think of it as help. It was but a pity.

“So that is what you think of me,” Slipstream gritted her denta her servos shaking exponentially. “This is what you’ve been thinking of me all this time, right?”

The slow movement tensing her frame didn’t make Windblade back down. Of course, thought Slipstream. She truly was playing the long con with her.

“Slipstream. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stood firmly. The Autobot warrior from Caminus would’ve never showed her any signs of doubt. Nor would she ever try to give her any reason she wouldn’t pull her to shreds.

“You think I didn’t see through you. Do you think I’m that naïve, Windblade!?” this time Slipstream snapped, towering right above her. Peace through tyranny, as they had always said. “You’ve been feeding me lies thinking that I would ever start doubting what the Decepticons are saying. All that… “Fun” or defending me. You thought I would believe you. But your lies are spread way too thin to just make me want to have anything to do with you.”

“Do you really think that was all to mess with your head? Answer this one yourself,” every word of hers spoken with utmost precision. Even if she stood her ground, everything about Windblade told her she was ready to strike. At least this time Slipstream would know her as a worthy opponent. “I don’t think you know how cityspeakers work. Nor even the Autobots.”

“It’s about how all you Autobots deny others a choice. It’s either your way or no way and I won’t stand by it. And with your tactics and what I’ve heard? This didn’t even have to be anything a mere Autobot couldn’t do. ”

Even if she wasn’t, Slipstream reminded herself. Even if everything about Windblade could allude to her being extraordinary. It was just a part of the trick.

Maybe that was the most damning thing out of what went down between them. All her lifespan Slipstream had heard about the supposed low intelligence of the Seeker mold. When you were a copy-paste soldier, there was no use in preparing a special processor for you. No doubt Windblade knew this… Even seeing Slipstream work like so, she internalized those facts and worked with them to destroy her. Probably that was how she did the least intelligent thing out of all. She believed that Windblade wouldn’t be just another lying, opportunistic Autobot.

Yet just like everywhere, the Seekers had their goals to fulfill. And Slipstream was about to excel at her own.

“I didn’t want this, Slipstream,” although her tone was calm, everything about her demeanor was alert. As if it had to work like another wave of mind games created especially for her. “All I wanted for us both to survive this. You keep talking about this manipulation but I could’ve destroyed you once and for all as we fell from the sky.”

“You knew exactly what you were doing,” this had to end. There was not a single reason why she would let Windblade live another solar-cycle. Her shoulders tensed even more, “I was wounded, helpless and you stroke when I was down. And now when I’m at my lowest you will let me see my Seekers so they can ridicule me, so I will definitely join your Autobot team. I’m no fool, Windblade.”

Even if it all hurt to mention, Slipstream had to retrieve her stance. There was no way she would ever appear soft to a single mech in the optics’ viewpoint. Not Thundercracker nor Nova Storm, not Starscream, not Megatron himself. And especially she wouldn’t lose that built confidence for Windblade’s own wants.

That was when the sword became double-ended.

“Oh, right? And isn’t this how the Decepticons have treated you? Ever since they forcibly dug out your spark and thought of you as their experiment?” Windblade’s tone as firm and sleek as it could be, hitting every possible note. Though considerably smaller, she stood tall and proud, having that power above Slipstream, one she couldn’t name. One she had over her all this time. Only at the end, she withdrew for a micro-klik. Compassion returning to her optics in that one last attempt. “Can’t you see it? Slipstream. I don’t want to be your enemy.”

“Shame. Cause I think you’ll make a perfect one for me.”

Yet Windblade didn’t give her any time to react. With one confident move, she ducked, retrieving her leg. One spin around and Slipstream landed on the ground. The sounds of Windblade’s pede-steps getting faster and the snowstorm getting more dire had rang in her audio processors.

Her back slammed into the ground, everything seemed to get too real too quickly. The humiliation was imminent, Slipstream was sure of it. Wasn’t that everything about her solar-cycle, anyway. Finally tracking down Windblade just to be defeated in the battle with her. Then landing in some Earth mountain range where there was no hope to reach the Cybertronian frequencies. Or so she had thought, thinking of Starscream. Oh, Primus, Starscream. Reporting to him might be the most painful thing of all.

Placing her servo on her chest, Slipstream had accepted her defeat. Who cared at that point, honestly. The amount of shame within her was indescribable. That was when Slipstream had to admit something – she was weak. She was down, she didn’t deserve the name of the captain. All of the reasons could’ve been read from Windblade’s smile. How easy it was for Slipstream to simply… Believe those lies. It wasn’t the Decepticon way. Her words should never hit her like so, she should’ve never even considered them as anything but a manipulative lie.

And yet whenever her optics glanced at Windblade’s faceplate, her spark seemed to melt away. As if no matter the cold, the warmth of simply her presence was enough even for someone as resistant as Slipstream.

Could it really be the end of her? On the ground, her sensors, ready to shut down. Not the Decepticon warrior she was always meant to be, not the future of the Seeker elite. Just a mech who was too weak to fight. Who never proved that she was worth a damn and deserved a spot in the ranks of the most successful Decepticons.

Then something clicked. It couldn’t end like this.

No one, not even Windblade could ever let Slipstream doubt her ideals and who she was. She told Starscream, she would tell it to herself. The Elite guard captain, a Decepticon, someone to be respected. Not swayed away by the Autobots’ stories of holding servos and smelling cyber-flowers. She was much more and she would take the AllSpark and destroy Windblade. Within her last sparkbeats. Even if it hurt. Especially regarding her.

Finally, Slipstream got herself up. Ready to fight and never back down, never let Windblade have the upper servo. The snow got into her systems, the cold was everywhere. But it was nothing of importance. With a shaky move, she stood tall and proud above the drifts. Pleading to be able to run forward, Slipstream yielded. A particular sound then started to get into her systems. Then a sight of two jets landing.

Approaching closer and closer, soon two figures transformed and landed. Finally receiving the signal from… Oh, right.

“Captain!” Nova Storm rushed to her side, unsure if she should even attempt to touch her.

“Captain, are you okay?” Following her suit, Thundercracker joined in.

Unamused, Slipstream furrowed her brow ridge, “Do I look fine?”

“I dunno. I think you look great!” Thundercracker said, yet quickly shut up as Nova Storm gave him an unnerved look.

To which Slipstream could only draw a longer ex-vent, as her digits clasped at the edge of her enstril ridge, “We don’t need this now, Thundercracker. Nova Storm! Report!”

“Yes, sir!” Quickly, Nova Storm nodded and straightened herself up. “Me and Thundercracker were looking for you through those Himalayas but there was no sign of you, as the storm was getting too thick. We tried contacting you too, to no avail. That was when we spotted Windblade’s signal back on our comms. Did she do anything to you?”

There was a genuine concern on both her and Thundercracker’s faceplates. No way Slipstream could tell them the truth. That the list of what Windblade had done to her couldn’t be spoken of in just several kliks. No use in appearing defeated in front of her troops. Especially when she had such a plan. They were all Decepticons, anyway. Nothing a little white lie couldn’t handle.

“You should’ve asked if I didn’t do anything to her,” gritted Slipstream, assessing her position once more. “I had an accident with my wings. None of your concerns. Thundercracker, I hope you have your medical kit ready.”

“Right on, Captain!” He confirmed immediately.

“Good. All this time I’ve been trying to get intel from Windblade. Her signal, position and all other Autobots.”

“Where is she right now?” asked Nova Storm, looking around herself.

Once more, Slipstream got herself together. Absolutely no weakness allowed to be shown, she kept convincing herself, “She got away but she’s wounded too. She couldn’t have run too far. And I’m going to finish the job.”

Thundercracker nodded, yet a question emerged, “Uh, Captain? Don’t you want your wing repaired first?”

“No. This is a now or never situation,” taking several firm pede-steps forward, Slipstream reassured them as best as she could. “Stay put. There’s no need for you to scour the area. I have it memorized. Thundercracker – prepare the kit. Nova Storm – observe any anomalies.”

“Do you not request any backup?” all confused, Nova Storm wanted to make things certain.

“Everything that happened is between me and Windblade. None of your concerns, understood?”

Sharing worried looks, at first it could seem that they would insist upon helping her. Yet immediately after, like soldiers they were, both Thundercracker and Nova Storm stood at attention. Together, they confirmed, “Yes, sir, yes!”

Now, those were the Seekers Slipstream loved to command. With a smirk painted at the edge of her dermas, she nodded, “And I’ll come back to you with Windblade’s spark in my servos.”

With that she rushed through the snow, ready to meet up with her destiny. Wings intact or not, even now Slipstream felt like soaring through the place.

It all seemed to lead her into this one exact place. Of her steps leaving heavy marks on the snow, speeding through the fog. No matter how little she could see, Slipstream could tell there had to be just one way to finish it all up. Within her systems her spark was racing, the reason, for her, completely unknown. All she knew was that it had to end. Immediately.

Then she saw the flickering light. Far away, obtuse by the snowstorm. The source was the shiniest beacon in all of Cybertron and Earth combined. Windblade.

Yet all Slipstream could feel was anger. With that sting of pain no wound could compare to. Hence she screamed to the ether, hoping it would answer back in the slightest.

“The Decepticons will take the AllSpark!” The light became brighter, the presence of her definitely close. “There’s no hope left for the Autobots,” and then she saw her. Or at least the very outline of her. It was enough. “Or you.”

With her last words slipping like poison from her glossa, Slipstream had taken note of Windblade. Looking all around, trying to strike her down. Not this time, she thought to herself. As irony had it in its plans, the only attack Slipstream wanted to execute would be the one that struck her down before. Hence taking a run for it, she jumped and kicked back at Windblade. No restraints, no drawbacks and no second thoughts. Just the sweet revenge she had to give right to her.

Retrieving her stance, Slipstream reveled in her momentary victory. As Windblade’s chassis ran across the snow into another drift and her sword had stuck into the ground. One move and she’d be gone forever, Slipstream knew that. And yet… She didn’t. At least not immediately.

Anger seeping through her, she took a confident and firm step towards Windblade. If she wanted to destroy her, at least she wanted to look at her faceplate one last time. Maybe in the recharge her breathtaking visage would soothe Slipstream’s nightmares. At least in the form of a memory.

Right at that moment, she also noticed how Windblade managed to stand up. Of course, she wouldn’t go down that easily. For Slipstream it was nothing but a plus to this whole situation. Beautiful, fearless and relentless. No matter what, it seemed that this image of her would burn forever in Slipstream’s processors.

“You talk too much,” Windblade gritted, before taking another shot at the attack.

With the warrior’s yell, Windblade rushed in her direction, ready to strike her down. Yet as energon boiled in Slipstream’s lines, she was ready to defend herself. She stood firmly, her servos already clutched together. At the impact of Windblade’s own servo, she dodged it with her forearm.

“At least I talk with sense,” she answered and with her full force, she managed to fight off Windblade’s attack again. So much so, she stumbled backwards. On Slipstream’s faceplate there was that certain kind of smirk.

It wasn’t long before Windblade answered with her punches. This time on the offense, her servos almost danced in the air, as Slipstream tried to dodge it with her armor. Her missiles clank with every attempt of hers. Both were aware that this was not the test. Not this time.

“What kind of sense? The Decepticon one?” Already at her boiling point, Windblade didn’t back away anymore. Though she was a much less skilled melee fighter, her moves were agile, fluent, perfect in their own way.

“At least it’s better than those lies Autobots spread,” one last dodge and then Slipstream took her servos on her own and stopped the attack at the source. Spinning her around, she turned their tides, letting herself have the ground to strike. “No matter how much you try, you know we won’t all be friends singing songs and holding servos.”

As her own servo tried to strike down at Windblade, her dexterity took the best of the attack. In the blink of the optic, Windblade dodged the punch. Yet she didn’t let Slipstream fall. Ex-vent stuck in her chest, suddenly Slipstream felt her servos drawn back, as Windblade immobilized her from behind.

“I’m also not naïve, Slipstream,” standing behind her, Windblade whispered into her right audial. The sensation made everything in Slipstream stop. Even her own attempts at escape. “I know some Decepticons will never change. But I saw something within you. I thought I had a chance… With you,” hearing such words, Slipstream could feel her ex-vent right on her own plating. Optics turned, so in the corners of them, she could get that perfect glimpse of her. “Seems that I was wrong after all.”

The terrible feeling within her spark spread all across her own chassis. Slipstream’s optics closed as her ex-vent got even shakier. Everything Windblade had said… Did she really think so? Did she really think that out of everyone she, the captain of the Seekers could be different?

Images appeared before her. Ones of Windblade’s faceplate, laughing at one of Slipstream’s jokes. Could she even joke around anymore? Could she give Windblade back the same feeling she received being in her presence? There was something more to this vision. The clearest skies imaginable. No more war and carnage. Just them both soaring through the skies. The touch of her plating beneath Slipstream’s digittips. Safety she never thought she’d achieve. And happiness. Nothing but happiness.

Then Slipstream opened her optics back, getting into the reality. Reality in which there could never be a truce or peace. Not without destroying one of the sides. There was no safety, there was no them. And the only way Slipstream could achieve this happiness was to rise above the Seeker ranks. Taking what’s hers and destroying what was in her way.

Even something as beautiful as Windblade herself.

The grip of Windblade’s decreased in power. That was when Slipstream had a clear shot. So she did what she had to. She turned around and escaped Windblade’s trap. As she stood faceplate to faceplate, Slipstream gritted her denta again. In that split klik, she saw nothing but anguish and pleading in Windblade’s optics.

“You don’t know anything about me. No matter if you used your cityspeaker power or not, you know nothing,” as her voice fell upon itself, Slipstream said it all right at her. Not giving her any chance to respond.

With one last attempt, she struck Windblade down with one correct punch from her right servo. One that made her fall into the ground. No chance at escaping. At her last ditch attempt to end her, Slipstream approached her fallen chassis. Pede stepped right onto her lower tanks, crushing her just a little.

“Any last words?” leaning a little closer, Slipstream asked.

“Yeah. I meant it when I said I never used my powers on you,” coughing a little, Windblade answered. Her blue optics focused on Slipstream. The same shade as the sky in her happiest vision. “And I have never lied to you.”

At that moment, Slipstream hesitated. And that hesitation cost her everything she had at her servos.

Taking her opportunity, Windblade reached the turbines on her outstretched wings. Launching them right into the air, with all the force she had. The turbines hit right at Slipstream’s chassis. Power strong enough to make her stumble away and hit the ground. Letting Windblade escape her grip and leaving her onto the ground.

Everything else that had happened was unveiled via her almost closed optics. Vignettes showing themselves, yet not making much sense in Slipstream’s processors. Turbines returned to Windblade’s wings. Windblade took her sword. The familiar ship landed. Some yellow bot greeted Windblade. And the one last look she gave her.

Maybe Windblade said something to her. But Slipstream couldn’t hear it.

“I am to understand that you didn’t retrieve any information, you didn’t find any other Autobot AND you didn’t even manage to take down Windblade!?”

Slipstream’s optic twitched. Oh, how glad she was that this particular comm didn’t display the images of mechs while talking to them. The last thing she wanted to see today was Starscream’s pissed off faceplate, yelling at her.

“I-It wasn’t like that, sir!” Slipstream tried to redeem herself in his optics far, far away on the Nemesis.

“Really? Then go on and actually tell me what have you done or I will make Soundwave try out his new blast attack with that horrible techno music on YOU,” though never being too patient, Starscream seemed to lose the last bits of it. Then she heard something a little more muffled, “And yes, it sounds horrible!”

The only proper reaction she could have was to roll her optics. She shouldn’t be surprised that Soundwave was also there but the mention of him did make the energon within her lines freeze. Sure, Starscream was an annoying pain in the aft of a superior for her. Even if he was intelligent and cunning. But Soundwave, his Amica Endura? Omniscient and powerful, could hear everything and use it against her. These two just had to be the worst duo Slipstream could come across that solar-cycle.

Scrambling to find anything that would be worth telling, Slipstream looked around the mountains. Spending so much time within them was almost soothing for her. Almost if the mere sight of her wouldn’t remind her of everything that went down. Especially the simple look at Windblade’s wings covered in snow. That would be one of the most painful memories to recount.

But there was some kind of method to this madness. She simply had to… Work around it a little. Slipstream looked at her companions too, knowing they wouldn’t say a word. Nova Storm on the lookout, pretending not to hear anything but in fact, living for each new gossip bit. Thundercracker repaired her wing, yet his annoying little whistle told her everything. Of course, these two wouldn’t even try.

So she did it all herself. Clearing her vocoder, Slipstream grasped at the last straws possible, “Well… For example, we found a stasis pod. So that means there are definitely more Autobots on Earth.”

“Why, Slipstream. must I remind you that you still haven’t FOUND THEM,” taking it all, Starscream didn’t seem too happy about the response.

One more try. Slipstream recollected herself, “Not yet but we’re on track. Nova Storm will test out her new tracking system and we will find them, haha! Besides that, we have learnt more about the Earth and the customs and…”

“Details or else you will bore me into deactivation.”

“Right! Right, sir…” Slipstream knew what she had to do. It was just that every mention of it just sent her over the edge. But she had to try, “We have found the Autobot Windblade and we know she’s not alone. I haven’t seen who else is with her but from the tentative analysis I think it’s the Autobot Bumblebee.”

“Bumblebee, you say…” almost intrigued Starscream thought to himself for a moment. Then he returned to his harsher tone, “No matter, I’m pretty sure the bug is as good as scrap now. At least, you finding Windblade is a worthy thing. Did you uncover anything about her?”

What didn’t she uncover about her.

Only then that feeling within her spark returned. Kaleidoscope of visions of herself and Windblade together. So many words Slipstream wanted to say about her. None of them would equal a fraction of who Windblade truly was. Not to mention, Slipstream also wasn’t a fool. Things within her systems should be kept for herself only, not for Nova Storm, not for Thundercracker and especially not for Starscream. Little secrets of hers, ones she would take to the AllSpark. At least that was one thing Slipstream was certain about.

“Windblade is a skilled fighter, who should not be treated lightly. She’s of the utmost danger and she has to be eliminated immediately. I’m sure she knows something about the AllSpark but as soon as we get it, we gotta destroy her. For the good of the Decepticon Cause,” almost like a learned formula, words escaped Slipstream’s mouth. Things that would satisfy her for a moment. Maybe Starscream too.

It seemed to work even better on Starscream than she had realized. On the other side of the line, she had heard his low hum of approval. Wasn’t that something completely new.

“How do you propose we do this?”

“We kidnap her, extract her processors and then… All that’s left is to snuff out her spark. As simple as it is.”

“I hope it’s simple enough for you all to follow,” Starscream admitted. “As much as you all have failed, at least there’s new intel to share around that I will immediately report back to Megatron. But if you fail once more, you can be sure that I’ll get you all TERMINATED! Is that clear!?”

“Yes, sir, yes!” All three of them had answered at once. Slipstream could already imagine Starscream’s victorious smirk.

“Good! So if you confirm then–“

“Sir?” Slipstream shot her one last shot. For better or for worse. “Permission to add another one of my Earth goals, sir.”

“Depends on what even is this,” with a tired ex-vent Starscream answered.

With all of her might, Slipstream spoke as firmly as she could, “I need to deactivate Windblade.”

“Granted,” Starscream agreed. “Now if you insist, I need to cover all the rest of your blunders. Starscream, out.”

Not letting her say anything back, Starscream ended the comm. Only the silence getting into Slipstream’s processors. Along with that damn solitude that showed itself up once more.

Everything within her was empty. She said what she had to say, did what she had to do. What else Slipstream needed to see in the Himalayas, she had no idea. She only knew that every other klik spent there brought Windblade’s words to echo in her processors. Wasn’t that just the most pathetic thing to feel.

All she wanted was to be free again. There was just one way.

“Thundercracker! Report, how are the repairs?” She hissed.

“Done and done, Captain!” confirmed Thundercracker, nodding back at her. “Now you’ll be able to transform and fly as much as you want.”

“Great work,” Slipstream answered, not even realizing the weird influx of, well… Saying anything nice to him. Getting back to herself, she commanded them, “No time to waste. Let’s leave this place.”

“But Captain!” Nova Storm stopped her, ever so shyly. “Don’t you want to take a moment here and rest? Are you sure you’re able to fly away now?”

The more time spent there, the more visions of Windblade hit her processors. Her blue optics, rose-colored dermas, her agile physique, her crafted wings… Her voice. Her laugh. Slipstream didn’t need a constant reminder of what had been. Or what could have been. The last look around and she saw Snowatron already covered in more of the storm, barely recognizable. All for the best.

“Never been more sure,” Slipstream nodded. “Decepticons! Rise up!”

Just like that, all three of them transformed back into jets and flew away from the place. Feeling all of her parts form the flying machine, Slipstream couldn’t achieve more freedom than at that moment. Soaring above the clouds, feeling the air on her plating. Even if everything told her it was all but a product of loneliness. The same song of the centuries of her very existence. Now still accompanied by Windblade’s laughter within her audio processors. One thought still lingering onto Slipstream.

Maybe… Maybe if she wasn’t a Decepticon.