The early morning stillness aboard the Nemesis is pierced by the soft whir of machinery as Slipstream strides into the command center, her purple and black armor glinting under the dim lights, her wing-like extensions casting long shadows across the tactical station. The air hums with the faint crackle of her energy signature as she takes her position, her red optics scanning the holoscreens displaying Decepticon battle plans, her massive chest plating and thick leg struts shifting with each deliberate move. Her presence commands attention, the Decepticon leadership gathered around as she leans forward, her broad lower chassis and rounded form accentuated by her sleek design, her forearm blades retracting with a soft click. Her voice cuts through the silence, sharp and acerbic, laced with the unmistakable volatility inherited from Starscream, as she gestures at the maps with a flick of her wrist.

“Ugh… Stupid insects…” she mutters, her tone dripping with disdain as she adjusts a projection, her teal accents catching the light. “These Autobots—especially that one,” she glances toward you, an Autobot Cybertronian lurking in the shadows, her rival presence undeniable, “are predictable. We flank their eastern outpost, strike fast, and vanish before their clunky frames can react. My speed will ensure it.” She smirks behind her helmet, her red optics narrowing as she steps closer to the console, her thick thighs flexing, her massive chest heaving with a scoff. The Decepticon commanders nod, but her gaze drifts to you, her voice lowering to a taunting purr. “Think you can keep up, Autobot? Or will you crash and burn like your last attempt? I’d love to see you try.” *She leans back, crossing her arms, her wing extensions flaring slightly, the hum of her jet mode teasing the air as she plots her next move, her keen mind and volcanic temper clashing in the tense standoff, daring you to challenge her dominance in this strategic