//------------------------------// // Part 9: Speed Metal // Story: Equestria Girls: Transformation // by The Bricklayer //------------------------------// Early that next morning on the backstreets of Canterlot, just a few hours before the sun was to rise over the sleepy town, several cars were to be found lining themselves up on a heavily forested road. Fast, expensive cars to be exact. Pagani Zondas, Nobles, Lamborghinis, I think you get the picture. From either side of the road, colorful red smoke was beginning to rise up. Both early in the morning, and late at night, street races had become a staple of Canterlot’s more privileged youth. Just kids who had nothing better to do, than throw their money away to get an adrenaline high with their fancy toys. Of course, even in this menagerie of supercars, one did somehow manage to stick out from the rest. Might have been the fact that it was an Aston Martin, or maybe it was the paint job, a deep crimson red with bright yellow rims. Whatever the case, as soon as ‘it’ pulled up, all heads turned to look at the car. The windows were a thick tinted color, so it was impossible to see who was driving. Whoever it was though, the driver let out a low whistle upon seeing his competition. “Nice wheels, man. Sweet rims, as well, 17 gauge? You're reeeeeeal heavy-duty! Built for speed, I like that!” the driver commented from inside his car, eying the Zonda as he revved his engine. “Hey, who are you anyways?” the driver of the Zonda asked. “Never saw you on the roster.” “What, a guy can’t show up unannounced?” Knock Out asked. “Alright, you got me, I’m gate-crashing, but at least let a racer have his fun m’kay? It was a long drive to get here, and I’m going to be picking bugs out of my grill for days!” “Ugh… fine. You’re in,” the driver grumbled. “Suppose you want my car if you win?” “No, I’m just in it for the fun of it. Prizes don’t really matter to me, as long as I look good crossing the finish line. If you have this type of car, all op-Er, eyes are going to be on you anyways.” Knock Out replied, quickly catching himself and correcting his speech. He flashed back to a brief time on the Darksyde on it’s journey to Earth, where he had to explain himself to one of the flyers onboard about why he chose a car as his Alt-Mode. “I’m sorry, but what’s wrong with my choice of alternate mode?” Knock Out complained to his cohort, a rather… incorrigible Decepticon known as Triggerhappy. “Yes, right, you're one of those.” Triggerhappy grumbled, shaking his dark blue head, and running a hand down his dark crimson faceplates. Knock Out gave him a look. “Come again?” the Stunticon asked, raising an eye-brow, and crossing his arms. He sighed inwardly, he knew of Triggerhappy’s reputation. He was a nut-ball, you used to get them in the Decepticon ranks from time to time. Apparently, if it was to be believed, it all stemmed from an incident in boot camp, where he was practicing firing while surfing on his hoverboard but apparently fell off and hit his head and suffered cranial processor damage in the fall. What did happen though, was he remained firing all the while and ended up shooting and disintegrating half-a-dozen other fellow Decepticons. Apparently, the camp commander was so impressed, he graduated Triggerhappy on the spot. Nobody else had figured out why this was a good idea, or figured out why it was an even better idea to actually arm the Con with his twin rifles. “Honestly,” Triggerhappy proclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration, as a green coated Decepticon with a body-type similar to Shockwave passed them by, watching and shaking his head in bewilderment. “I never understood why any self-respecting Decepticon would choose an 'automobile' as his vehicle mode when he could have flight!” “I like the way I look in steel-belted radials,” Knock Out replied simply. “I'm not only an automobile; I'm an automobile enthusiast, comes with the territory you know. Hello? Stunticon here!” he exclaimed, pointing to his brand mark on his chest. It was a normal Decepticon symbol, but with a hazard mark behind that making it resemble those markings you would often find on crash test dummies. Fitting really, give half of the team’s driving styles with no regard for the rules of the road. Knock Out liked to consider himself more refined than that, he really preferred his paint job unscratched thank you very much. While the rest of the Stunticons had spent their life on Cybertron working away their crimes during the Great War in community service putting on stunt shows, Knock Out had never actually participated in the fighting and had no such troubles. Actually, for most of the war, he’d been a medic helping others on both sides and continued as such after the war ended. It was only after it had been ‘discovered’ that he’d been doing some rather unethical experiments on others did he fall in with Onslaught’s lot. So there he was, on a stolen ship bound for another planet fleeing from the Autobot brigade led by Prowl who’d been sent after him. His only comfort was that his sparkmate (Or Conjunx Endura as it was known) was onboard the ship was well and that the planet was known to have an advanced enough civilization that built cars. “Right…” Triggerhappy muttered to himself, before walking off to his quarters still shaking his head. Knock Out huffed, rumors were probably true that he’d been dropped on his head, if he didn’t understand the fundamentals of looking quite fine and the feel of rubber against the open road. But none of that really mattered now, as right now, the flags went down, and every car on the starting line sped off into the early morning light, tires squealing and engines roaring. Knock Out smiled as he switched to a local radio station, this was where he belonged. “One foot on the brake and one on the gas, hey! Well, there's too much traffic, I can't pass, no! So I tried my best illegal move Well, baby, black and white come and touched my groove again! “Gonna write me up a 125 Post my face wanted dead or alive Take my license, all that jive I can't drive 55! Oh No!” Crystal Prep: Of course, as soon as school let out that next day, the Shadowbolts set off for their favorite meeting place, the skatepark in the middle of Canterlot. As they walked down the steps from the Crystal Prep Academy, Sunny was soon greeted by a pure black husky-like dog (With a hint of wolf in him if you looked closely enough) bounding towards her as Twilight and Trixie walked up. Sunder, in his guitar form, was slung over Trixie’s back in a case while Twilight, as ever, had books under her arm. “Girl, do you not ever have any books on you?” Indigo asked. “Believe me, Trixie’s been asking the same thing ever since we started dating…” Trixie muttered to herself but wilted under Twilight’s glare. Lemon laughed quietly to herself and mimed cracking a whip. Sugarcoat sighed to herself. Must her friend be so… crude? “So, what’s wrong with a few books?” she asked. “Might do you some good to start reading Indigo, would help you raise your grades.” Sugarcoat sniffed. “Ooh, burn!” Lemon laughed, mimicking a small hissing noise. “Need some ice for that?” “...I’ve been betrayed by my own best friend.” Indigo sighed, hanging her head. “She’s got a point you know,” Twilight put in. “I mean, I could easily help you find something in a book that would help you with soccer, help you calculate the best angle for kicking the ball in a net,” “No offense Twilight, but I’d rather figure out how to kick the ball in the net for myself, than learn from someone who’s probably never played a game in her life,” Indigo commented, crossing her arms. “F-for your information, I did play a game of soccer!” Twilight sputtered out. Behind them, and going unnoticed by anyone was Knock Out in vehicle mode pulling up around a curb. “It was only one game mind you, but I did respectively well.” “Funny, that’s not how Trixie remembers things,” the showmare teased. “I seem to remember Rainbow actually kicking your ass! Quite badly, I might add.” As Twilight let out a small moan, and Indigo patted her on the back in sympathy, Knock Out sighed. Human teenagers, honestly he never quite exactly saw the reasoning behind Steeljaw, the big brute, ruling them an actual threat. “Then again,” he mused, as he looked at the guitar slung around Trixie’s back and the husky dog near Sunny’s side. “Maybe he’s onto something, if those Predacons deem them worthy of their protection.” He wasn’t stupid, hologram or not, Feral couldn’t hide his distinctive life signatures from him. Deep down, underneath all that advanced stealth tech fitted onto him beat the Spark of a Predacon. “Hey Sunny, I have to ask,” Trixie inquired curiously. “What’s with the dog?” “Er, that’s the interesting thing,” Sunny Flare replied as she led her friends out of earshot of her fellow students. “He’s not a dog. Just happens to look like one.” “Wait, you’re not saying he’s a…?” Sugarcoat asked, and seemingly in confirmation, Sunder beeped out a small yes. “Apparently, last night, my dad had a visit from him, and so he decided to have Feral here,” Sunny continued, stroking the Predacon’s head. “Keep an eye on me. Normally I’d be mad, but-” “But why not?” Trixie asked. “I thought you hated your dad being all overprotective of you and stuff!” “Yes, but I decided to take a page out of Sugarcoat’s book as it were,” Sunny replied, as said girl beamed in pride at her friend. “And look at things logically. Most of the Autobots’s vehicle modes would… stand out as it were, and Road Rage can’t keep an eye on us because of her ‘condition’ so Feral here, who can make himself look like a regular dog and Sunder with his Guitar alt mode are the best choices,” Sunny continued with her friends following along with every word. “Unless more Autobots arrive on Earth, and get vehicle modes nobody would question, we’re stuck with these two for the time being. ...No offense.” she quickly told Feral and Sunder. “Ah, I see. Makes sense,” Trixie agreed before she raised a finger. “On Autobots though, remind me to have them make alterations to our uniforms as it were. I don't care what Perceptor says, that armor chafes to no end!” “Better uncomfortable, than dead,” Sugarcoat pointed out. “Besides, if what Perceptor is saying is true, and Lemon, you’re going to like this, that armor will help us help them in their battles.” “How so?” Lemon asked, getting excited. And a little too close to Sugarcoat’s face for her own personal comfort. “He didn’t say much on that part, except it was just a working theory at the moment.” Sugarcoat replied as she pushed Lemon away gently. “Hey, a question?” Twilight asked as the group began walking to the local bus stop. “Perceptor did leave me some awfully cryptic clues when we last talked. Quoted a bit of Ronald Reagan, actually.” “What made you think they were clues?” Indigo asked. “The exact quotes he used,” Twilight replied, as a bus pulled up and the girls stepped inside with Feral following. If the driver took notice of him, he didn’t comment on him. Might have figured he was a service dog or something. “The first one was: “The most terrifying words in the English language are: I'm from the government and I'm here to help.” Exact quote.” she said. “Anything else?” Sugarcoat asked curiously. “Hey, between one consistent Grade-A scoring student to another, maybe we can figure something out together.” she offered. “Yes, he did mention that he seemed to be uncovering that at least some of the Decepticons onboard Onslaught’s ship weren’t as guilty as they were originally thought to be, from what he was beginning to figure out. Nothing concrete yet, but…” Twilight commented, before a thought occurred to her. “Hey, you don’t think…?” “Yes, I do,” Sugarcoat replied. “That some higher up in his government wanted certain members of Onslaught’s crew to seem like criminals. Perceptor didn’t quote Richard Nixon at any point, did he by any chance?” Twilight laughed a little at the historical reference, but shook her head. “No, he didn’t. Though if his theories are correct, along with ours, a certain quote from him would fit wouldn’t it?” “Ugh, politics…” Lemon muttered. “The second oldest profession in the world, you want to know what it is? It’s the politician. On the outside, it's nothing really all that particularly special. You go out and help with managing your community and start pushing your agenda, whatever that may be. But once you really, and I mean really get into it, it's probably not that much different than the world's oldest profession.” she grumbled. Trixie had to snigger at that, and even Twilight and Sugarcoat did as well despite usually not liking Lemon’s sense of humor. “She’s got a point, doesn’t she?” Trixie remarked. “When the girl’s right, she’s right.” she begrudgingly admitted. Lemon smirked, and put in her earbuds before tuning her phone to Xiraia’s radio show. “Hello all of you girls and guys out there, so nice to know you’re all listening. Now, picking up from last week, we’re continuing speculation on the strange set of meteors that came down outside Canterlot over two months ago. Now, could be nothing… But if you believe that, why the Hell are you listenin’ to me? Go and pretend you’re safe in your home, and lizard aliens haven’t landed in your own backyard and replaced Canterlot’s higher-ups! “Anyways, for those of you not in the know, not too long ago, some scientists at the Canterlot Observatory, they sighted two strange meteors coming down right outside the city. One impacted in the canyons outside the town, while the other crash-landed in the mountains. I say crash landed, because despite all of head scientist Night Light’s comments that they are not spacecraft, I know better. Seriously, what else could they be? Asteroids?” Here, Xiraia broke out into a sharp laugh. Lemon motioned for her friends to come over and put an earbud in Sunny Flare’s ear. “You don’t think…?” Lemon asked. “Oh, I more than think. We have to tell Prowl and the rest, we might just know the location of the Decepticon base!” Sunny said firmly, before bringing up her wrist and pulling back her sleeve revealing a small wrist mounted terminal. A gift, from Perceptor, to the girls. Apparently, someone at the Autobot base had a sense of humor, and had played Fallout. Sunny would just never have imagined it to be Perceptor of all Bots. Each of the group had one, part of their armor. Quickly, she typed in these words: “Have important info relating to Cons. Tell you later!” With that, she quickly pulled her sleeve back forwards before anyone could notice. What none of them had seen, however, was Knock Out, still in vehicle mode, tailing them. He’d make his move eventually of course, but not for the time being. However, had he known what Sunny had just figured out, he probably would have been of a different mindset… Eventually, Knock Out broke off the tail before anyone got suspicious. Anyone of course, being one of the girls or their Predacon protectors. Honestly, he still didn’t quite understand it. Predacons catered to no master, so why would two go to Onslaught’s side, especially when he had the known Predacon Hunters Steeljaw and Flamewar on his side? Then again, maybe that giant oaf Darksteel and that shiny loving Corvicon Filch were afraid of Onslaught and his power. As he opened up a groundbridge back to base, Knock Out dismissed that thought as soon as it came. It was ridiculous really, he’d heard rumors of Predaking’s power, and as powerful and cunning as the leader of the Combaticons was, even Onslaught was no match for the self-proclaimed King of Beasts. A title, which Knock Out swore was definitely deserved, considering he’d heard that Predaking had managed to keep up with the legendary Autobot leader Optimus Prime himself. “Then again,” Knock Out thought as his wheels hit solid metal floor and he quickly transformed to robot mode. “There is that ‘ability’ of Onslaught’s.” An image flashed through his mind. No, a memory of back in the Great War. It was of a massive goliath of a robot with a frighteningly red crimson visor, whirling blades on one arm and a powerful flamethrower burning Decepticon and Autobot alike to a crisp. He shuddered at the thought and tried to clear the images from his mind. That was a sight he hoped he never saw again in his lifetime. Combiners, they were a mad experiment of Shockwave’s, beginning with the Constructicons and just getting wilder from there. He’d even heard rumors Shockwave had been planning to clone Predacons that could form a gestalt known only as Abominus before the mad scientist was put down by a combined Autobot/Decepticon team, with Megatron himself personally blasting a hole in Shockwave’s chest after his ambition finally went too far. Swallowing nervously, Knock Out waited for the doors that led to Onslaught’s personal chambers to open. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally opened to reveal an office, with a massive dark blue Decepticon with a red visor and two cannons resting on his back sitting behind a desk drawing up what looked to be battle plans on a datapad. “So, am I correct?” Onslaught asked, as Knock Out bowed and forced himself to look anywhere but Onslaught’s optics, which he swore could peer into your very Spark chamber. His head was tilted upwards, and he soon found himself looking right at the Combaticon commander. “Yes… Yes, you’re quite correct, the Predacons are indeed protecting those human girls as Steeljaw theorized.” Knock Out replied nervously, and if Onslaught was capable of smirking he would have.