//------------------------------// // 1/2: The Dawn of a New Life (Friendship is Magic pt. 2) // Story: Friendship is Deceptive // by Kris Overstreet //------------------------------// “I’m doin’ it! I’m doin’ it!” The bit of lawn next to the chasm that surrounded the castle shook and cracked as Rumble pounded his forehooves into the ground. His arms didn’t transform into pistons anymore, but the earthquake effect didn’t seem to have diminished, at least not so long as he focused on pouring... something... into the ground. “Hey! Watch it! WATCH IIIIIIT!” Rumble stopped, gaping with shock as a section of the lawn split from the rest of the grounds and slid down into the chasm, taking Frenzy with it. “Frenzy!” Rumble shouted, galloping to the edge. A midnight-blue light flashed past Rumble’s eyes, and then slowly, slowly, Frenzy rose back over the edge of the precipice. “Whew,” the red-coated colt gasped. “Thought I was a goner there. Figured I was gonna go splat like... well, like a horse.” “frenzy status: wriggling,” a strained monotone echoed from behind Rumble. “imperative: stop it at once.” Rumble walked over to Soundwave. The dark blue field of energy lifting Frenzy up out of the chasm came from his horn. The larger pony sweated with the strain, his eyes clenched shut in concentration. “You okay, Soundwave?” the smaller pony asked. “function... within parameters,” Soundwave grunted. Slowly, carefully, the field lowered to deposit Frenzy on the lawn, well away from the new edge of the ground. The light went out, and Soundwave, fell on his haunches, breathing deeply. “That was amazing, boss!” Rumble said. “How d‘ya do it?” “procedure: uncertain,” Soundwave replied. “reaction: automatic. analyzing now.” “Ya mean ya don’t know,” Rumble said. After so long working with the bigger bot, he and his fellow cassettes were used to Soundwave’s way of talking. “That’s all right. You’ll figure it out. But how’d you know where Frenzy was to grab him? You said your vision was broken or somethin’.” “vision: impaired,” Soundwave agreed. “hearing: greatly enhanced. Other senses: also enhanced, but unable to identify.” Rumble nodded: Soundwave’s specialty back home had been espionage, of course. Nobody on Cybertron, Autobot or Decepticon, had more sensitive sensors than he did. But... “But you’re organic now, right?” he asked. “I know you could tune out unwanted input, zero in on what you wanted, but organics can’t do that.” “filtering is difficult,” Soundwave said. “loud noises: painful.” “Aw, man, I’m sorry,” Rumble said. “I was so happy gettin’ my function on, I didn’t think-” “i do not complain,” Soundwave replied. “your function: vital. unwanted input: ignored.” “Hey, Soundwave!” Frenzy shouted, walking over to them after inspecting the edge. “Think you could lower me back over the edge?” The edge in his voice that sounded like someone scraping a thousand strands of barbed wire under tension over a chalkboard grew even louder with his excitement. “That was a fun ride! Almost felt like I could fly again!” Soundwave winced. “filtering certain unwanted input: more difficult.” Meanwhile, some hundred feet above them in the night sky, Laserbeak and Buzzsaw hovered, feathered wings flapping slowly. “I think he got looost,” Laserbeak suggested. “Let’s land now, hm? Let’s laaaand. No need to wait-” Buzzsaw snared Laserbeak’s black feline tail in his beak. “As much as I would like to leave,” he said out of the corner of his mouth, “this whole enterprise will be pointless without targets. And since we do not possess these... rrgh,” he shuddered as he forced himself to say the words, “cutie marks... we can only be useful in this fashion.” “Laserbeak is useful!” Laserbeak chirped, and then said in a darker mutter, “I’d be a lot more useful not scattered all over the bottom of that ravine...” Buzzsaw released his brother’s tail and said, “I have the liveliest of doubts-” Anything further he might have said would have been drowned out by the explosion of noise that went off less than a ponylength behind him, if Buzzsaw hasn’t been tumbling through the air too deafened and disoriented to continue. He spread his wings to recover his balance, discovered he was upside down, and quickly righted himself, flapping slowly again as his hearing recovered. The first sound he heard was Laserbeak’s braying laughter. “Target acquired! Target acquired!” the other griffin crowed like a parrot between hyena-like laughs. “Were you useful, Buzzsaw? Target acquired!” A shadow came between the moon and Laserbeak, and his braying laughter stopped. He looked up, saying, “What’s tha-” What followed next was a loud squawk as a small but potent lightning bolt plunged from the little cloud directly over Laserbeak and struck him directly in the rump. The red and black griffon sped off like a scalded cat across the skies, as a violet-haired equine head peeked over the edge of the cloud. “Target acquired,” Skywarp said, smirking wickedly. Thundercracker, who’d had to circle back around after his namesake maneuver, slowed to a stop next to Skywarp. “How’d you do that?” “It’s easy, dude,” Skywarp grinned. “It’s like pushin’ around a pile of packing pellets.” He demonstrated, flapping his way off the cloud and then giving it a little push. It floated a few feet away before coming to a stop. “And if you tweak it just right...” He slammed both forehooves down on top of the cloud, and a smaller bolt of lightning snapped out from the bottom. “Is that so?” Thundercracker reached out and grasped the end of the cloud. “Hey... you’re right... I can feel all sorts of stuff inside this thing.” He rolled it around like a ball above him, smiling as the cloud grew. “I can accelerate the condensation around it, too!” He held it in place, hefting it thoughtfully. “And it feels like doing that builds up more static charge...” “What are you two playing at?” Starscream shouted, swooping down from the skies where he’d been practicing his own flying. Thundercracker took a tighter grip on the cloud. Glancing at Skywarp, he muttered, “Do you mind?” Skywarp grinned. “I never mind seein’ Starscream in pain,” he said. Nodding, Thundercracker turned to face Starscream, who had slowed to a hover, red-tipped white wings beating up and down with impossible slowness. “We’ve made a little discovery,” he said. “Wanna see?” “Only if it’s not a waste of my time!” Starscream folded his forelegs in much the same manner he often did when bossing another bot around. “Well, is it?” “See for yourself,” Thundercracker said, grinning as he squeezed the back of the cloud just so. The stored lightning in the little cloud released itself all at once, lighting up the night sky for a moment almost as bright as day as it slammed into Starscream. Only after the lightning had struck and vanished did Starscream shriek in terror. “AAAAAH! LIGHTNING!” Thundercracker blinked as his eyes readjusted to the night, realizing slowly that for all his panic, Starscream hadn’t moved an inch... or even been hurt, so far as he could tell. “YOU STRUCK ME WITH LIGHTNING! YOU TRIED TO FRY ME IN THIS HORRIBLE FLESH BODY! AND...” Gradually it dawned on Starscream that he’d been shouting and hovering quite a lot for someone who’d just been electrocuted. “And... and I’m uninjured.” Starscream examined himself, forehooves patting down the point on his chest where he’d been struck. “Not even singed... I didn’t feel a thing...” Panic had faded to wonder, then introspection, and then, as he focused his eyes on Thundercracker, to incandescent rage. Skywarp took one look at Starscream’s face and said, “Well, later!” In a flash of violet light he was gone, leaving Thundercracker alone to face the Decepticon who, though not the strongest, was indisputably the most vindictive. “Um... impressed?” Thundercracker asked. “You attempted to incinerate your superior officer, Thundercracker,” Starscream murmured. “Um... yeah.” Thundercracker admitted. “So... um... here, catch!” Out of ideas, he hurled the spent cloud at Starscream. A foot away from him it shredded apart into tiny bits of scud and fog that evaporated almost instantly. “You know,” Starscream continued in the same low voice, “in our former bodies, I was the fastest flyer save for those with an orbit-capable alt-mode.” “Um, on Cybertron, yeah,” Thundercracker said, hoping that quibbling might derail Starscream’s astrotrain of thought. “But our Earth alt-modes were pretty much equal, all based on the same type of human aircraft.” “I think it’s time we find out if the same is true with our new bodies, don’t you?” Starscream continued, his lips baring teeth in a smile that almost reminded Thundercracker of Megatron in one of his most lethal moods. “I think we should have a race.” His wings spread as wide as they would go, and he hung in the air, for a moment almost sharing the silhouette of his robot body. “And the prize is that the winner WON’T get to experience just how many ways an equine body can feel pain!!” Thundercracker just barely had time to turn and begin flapping like mad before Starscream occupied the space he’d been in a moment before. A teal streak blurred across the night sky, closely pursued by red and white. Meanwhile, in the top of an ancient and gnarled oak tree growing right on the edge of the chasm, Buzzsaw perched overlooking an ancient well with smoke and steam rising out of it. “I do believe target practice has just ended,” he said conversationally. After a boom from overhead, he added, “For most of us, at least.” “Hooray,” Laserbeak’s voice moaned from the bottom of the well. Alone except for Ravage in the ancient throne room, Megatron glared with increasing frustration at the loose bits of stone at his hooves. Focusing on one and concentrating his mind on the sensation he’d felt when he’d yanked Starscream down to earth, he felt his horn warm and saw the golden light flicker around the broken brick. It rocked back and forth as it rose slowly from the ground... and then rolled out of his mental grip and dropped to the floor. Again. For the forty-ninth time. In his more convivial moods Megatron would admit that, though he could be patient as the grave over the long term, he occasionally had his “little moments”. He had one now, screaming with rage and raising a hoof and bringing it down with a bang, reducing the brick to powder. I am Megatron the conqueror! he thought. I pulled myself out of the gladiatorial pits, from the deepest gutters of Cybertron itself! I have slain rulers and destroyed worlds! My name is a synonym for terror through half the galaxy! I have the strength and the cunning to achieve any goal I desire! So WHY CAN’T I LIFT ONE STUPID ROCK?? He scorned the smaller pieces of debris he’d been practicing on, reaching his mind out to a large section of pillar that had fallen half across the chamber. The yellow glow fumbled up and down the length of the chunk of rock, and it rocked back and forth, rising, falling and rolling in his uncertain grip. NO! I WILL NOT BE DENIED! YOU WILL OBEY ME BECAUSE I! AM! MEGATRON!! He felt the flow of energy in his horn, and he willed it to flow faster, harder, slamming it at the stone. The golden light flared, and with a familiar-sounding FWAMP of energy, the rock vaporized. Tiny fragments struck what remained of the walls, clattering down to the floor in a brief rain of gravel. Megatron, winded by the exertion, took several breaths to steady himself. His rage faded instantly as he observed his work- the absence of the pillar, the scorch mark on the floor, the flecks of rock here and there. Weeeeeeeeeell. Megatron looked up at the tops of the ruined walls that formed what remained of the throne room. One stone beam still jutted almost to what had once been the peak of the roof, sticking out like a joint-locked digit. He lowered his head, pointing his horn as much as he could at it, and again willed the force he refused to think of as magic to strike- but this time with precision and measured force, not in bland berserker rage. FWAMP. The stone joist now more or less matched its fellows, smoking from the place where it had been trimmed down. Veeeeerrrry interesting, Megatron thought. I think I need no longer search for a replacement for my fusion cannon. As he looked at the open roof, he noticed fog beginning to curl over the jagged bits of shingles. More fog flowed through the open windows and doorways. “I don’t like the looks of this,” he muttered aloud to himself. “Decepticons! To me!” “My fog deadens sound,” the voice of Nightmare Moon said from right behind him. Megatron smiled a little: he’d mastered his involuntary reflex programming before he crawled out of the depths into the gladiator arena, and it felt good knowing that carried over into his new body. Meanwhile the Nightmare said, “I shall guide your followers to you here. Once you are together, make yourselves scarce. My sister’s student and her followers will be here shortly, and I do not want them to see you.” “Aaah,” Megatron nodded, turning slowly to face the madmare. “You wish us to set up an ambush?” “Of course not!” Nightmare Moon allowed herself a moment’s laugh. “They pose no threat to me! But if they see you here, it would be a distraction. If I am to crush their spirits and make them my servants, I need their absolute and total attention! No, mighty Megatron,” she purred, giving him that up-and-down examination of his form again, “in the future you shall have ample opportunity to fight in my name. But this time I must order you to desist. You may watch if you wish, but do not interfere- no matter what.” “I understand,” Megatron said calmly. He didn’t care for being ordered to do anything and never had, but for the long game he planned, he could pretend. “But what if, unlikely as it may be, they get the upper hand?” “Upper hoof, dear Megatron.” Nightmare smirked at the thought. “And that won’t happen. So far their tenacity and wisdom have overcome my every test. But with my sister gone only one power in Equestria could challenge mine...” She tapped a hoof on the stones beneath their feet. “... and I have that power firmly under my control. And when I show my sister’s dear student this fact, that her hopes are built on sand...” She trailed off into maniacal laughter, which faded along with her as the fog swallowed her up again. “Hey, Megatron!” Rumble walked out of the fog, leading Soundwave by the hoof. Frenzy followed along behind. “Soundwave heard you callin’, and then this dame’s voice told us ta come here.” Flapping wings stirred the fog above as first Skywarp, then Starscream, and finally a worse-for-wear Thundercracker dropped through the open roof and into the throne room. Not long after them came Laserbeak and Buzzsaw, flapping through a window. “You summoned us, Lord Megatron?” Starscream asked. “Indeed I did, Starscream,” Megatron replied. “We have been invited to watch a play. The only question is whether it shall be tragedy or triumph...” His little smile grew broader. “... or farce.” The galleries overlooking the main throne room, and the stairs leading up to them, turned out to still be sound. After a warning from Megatron to make no sound and to do nothing without his order, the Decepticons hid behind cracked and half-broken railings to watch and wait. They didn’t wait long. A flash of light lit up the room, revealing Nightmare Moon on a lower dais than the one with the thrones... and, on the far end of the chamber, a violet pony, horn but no wings, shaking her head and gaining her bearings after a rough-looking teleport. Megatron’s eyebrows rose as, after a few meaningless words exchanged between the two, the unicorn lowered her head and charged at the Nightmare, her horn glowing with a brilliant light. As small and pathetic as the newcomer seemed, she had courage. Megatron respected that. Nightmare Moon bounded off her pedestal and countercharged. Megatron nodded: a true leader fights their own battles. He respected that as well. Then, just before the two horses would have struck, another flash of light filled the room, and the Nightmare charged through the space where the violet unicorn had just been. Behind her, on the dais, a swirl of light resolved into the unicorn, who began throwing small sparks of magic here and there at the rocks in a frantic, obviously last-gasp attempt at victory. Megatron smiled. He respected courage and integrity, but the Decepticon ranks were full of cowards and turncoats. The true measure of a bot... of a person, possibly... lay in guile, intelligence, and above all never surrendering. These were the foundation of true strength... and this purple creature had them. Nightmare Moon, by comparison, he found... lacking. Once this charade is over, he thought, I shall have to take pains to cultivate this one. She can be my first ally in the campaign to overthrow Nightmare Moon and take her throne. Of course she was going to lose. Nightmare Moon teleported herself over to the dais, knocking Twilight back off it. The madmare looked frightened for a moment as a last few sparks danced across those stone spheres, but then they lay still, and she laughed as she shattered them with a single stomp of her hoof. Whatever hopes the purple one had, they died along with the spheres. Then voices came from the entryway to the throne room- the followers Nightmare Moon had spoken about, Megatron deduced. And then the violet pony smiled... ... and in the minute that followed, Megatron’s expectations got thrown into the smelting pot, along with all common sense rules of battle. The other Decepticons agreed, based on the mutterings he heard, despite his order for silence. “What are ya waitin’ for?” Frenzy whispered. “Shoot her! Shoot her now!!” “Don’t let her keep talking,” Starscream muttered. “End her! End ANY of them! It’s obvious they need all six of them for this to work! Don’t let them finish!” “Run, stupid!” Laserbeak snapped. “You’ve lost! Run before it’s too late!” And then a brilliant rainbow rose from the six ordinary ponies on one side and engulfed Nightmare Moon on the other side, and then it was all over. After that, as a white pony even larger than Nightmare Moon appeared out of nowhere just as the sun rose outside, Megatron heard Skywarp mumble, “Looks like th’ last ship back ta Cybertron just blew up on the pad.” Princess Celestia smiled at Megatron's reference to his arrival in Equestria. “Captain,” she said, “I think, after what happened to you, it’s my duty at the least to make your time with us as comfortable as possible. After all,” she continued, her smile fading and her gaze dropping to the ground, “if I had not been forced to seal my sister in the moon in the first place, you wouldn’t be here. I bear some responsibility. And I mean to make it up to you.” “And we are most grateful, Your Royal Highness,” the white-and-red pegasus put in. “Though you can best aid us by helping us return as swiftly as possible.” “I’ll do my best,” Celestia said. “Unfortunately the one pony who knew the secret of travel between worlds has been gone for a thousand years, and he didn’t teach me the spell. But maybe we can find a clue somewhere.” “That would be just… prime,” Megatron drawled. Celestia cocked her head. “Is that good?” she asked. Megatron’s smile took a distinctly wry twist. “Some have said so,” he muttered. “Well, that’s fine,” Celestia nodded. “And now I have to depart. My sister and I have a great deal to talk about after all these years." “I beg your indulgence first, princess,” Megatron hissed. “It is a small thing, but I wish to ask a question. Three questions, rather. I ask them of any new ruler or government I encounter. You may find them impertinent, but I never fail to find the response instructive.” Celestia’s eyebrow quirked. “Go ahead.” “My questions are these.” The unicorn brought himself to a stance of military attention, buzz-cut black mane perfectly straight, broad shoulders square. “First: in whose interests do you exercise your power? Second: to whom are you accountable? And third…” The red eyes glowed in the sunlight as they challenged Celestia, unbowing, inflexible. “How may we be rid of you?” Celestia laughed. “Well, you did warn me they might be impertinent,” she chuckled. “Though I have to say, none of the others who tried to overthrow me ever asked politely.” She sobered a little and added in an undertone, “They might have been surprised at the answer if they had.” “If you don’t wish to answer, that’s fine,” Megatron said. “It’s just-“ “No, Captain, I’m happy to answer,” Celestia said. With a flash of the white alicorn’s horn, images appeared in the air, displaying angular renditions of Celestia and Luna standing before a unicorn wearing a large hat and a bushy beard. “I have always put the protection of my ponies before all other considerations,” Celestia continued. “For over a thousand years I have been the last line of defense for them... sometimes more successfully than others.” The Luna in the images changed into Nightmare Moon, and the illusion of Celestia banished the dark spectre, “And even when doing so has broken my heart, I have never once put my happiness ahead of my subjects. Never.” The projection changed to show a series of battles: Celestia and Luna facing an enormous dragon; then, a strange, laughing serpentine patchwork monster; next, a strange red six-limbed creature with gigantic horns on its head; after that, a black unicorn with glowing green eyes; and, finally, Celestia facing Nightmare Moon again. “When I was but a filly my sister and I were summoned from our homeland by Starswirl the Bearded to become the rulers of the first united kingdom of earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi. In that time many outsiders have sought to overthrow me. But not once have the ponies I rule asked me to relinquish my crown.” In a softer voice she added, “After losing my sister, I very much wished they would.” The images winked out. Celestia looked directly at Megatron, saying, “As to your third question: the day I am confident that another pony can take up the burden, I shall lay it down.” She turned to look over the rooftops of Ponyville, at the sun hanging almost directly overhead. “Do you understand how lonely it is, living for a thousand years, when not a single pony is willing to talk to you as an equal?" she asked. "When everyone is either a subject or an enemy? I almost welcome the occasional invasion or monster attack, because it means at least someone isn’t groveling at my hooves like I was some sort of god. I am tired, Captain. I want to see the world I've protected. I want to be just an ordinary pony again. I am tired of the lives I destroy every time I make a mistake. Do you understand what that is like?” Megatron understood far too well what Celestia meant. Leadership was a heavy burden, and he had seen from both sides the dangers of having too many yes-men around. It was why, despite everything, he kept that idiot Starscream around. And it was why he always looked forward to the moments when he could face Optimus Prime one on one, despite Prime’s philosophical weakness. He understood, but he wasn’t going to tell this pony that- especially when she was confessing her weakness to him. Instead he said simply, “If it is so hard, why don’t you just quit?” “Because my ponies need a protector,” Celestia replied. “And I expect a new protector will emerge, very soon. If she can rise to the challenge, that is.” A small smile flitted across her lips, then fled as Celestia continued sternly, “Because as much as I wish to have my own life back after so long, I will not fail in my duty. So long as my ponies need me, I will be there. And maybe I will fail... but no honest pony will be able to say I didn’t try!” Megatron suppressed the derisive chuckle which lurked in his throat. This female had Optimus’s disease of the brain- a desire to self-sacrifice in favor of a rabble who would never appreciate it nor learn from it. In short, Celestia fancied herself a hero. The only wonder, Megatron thought, is that she lasted this long without being terminated by someone. But for all that heroes were congenitally blind to the realities of existence, they possessed uncanny insight in other ways. You could only gull a hero once, if that. And a hero’s trust was precious coin that could so easily be frittered away- as Megatron knew from experience. So, for now, caution would be his watchword around the two princesses- caution until he had a certain method to overthrow them, or a road back to Earth or Cybertron, whichever came first. But deep inside himself, a tiny part of Megatron asked: if the Quintessons, or the old Senators, had answered so forthrightly, would I ever have raised the standard of rebellion? He stamped this stray thought out. Ridiculous. Something in this primitive squishy organic brain must be malfunctioning, to even take his mind back to such ancient days. “Well answered, Princess!” he said, bowing his head. “And I thank you for indulging me.” He gestured a hoof at his warriors and continued, “For indulging us.” “My sister and I owe you,” Celestia said. The key to the guardhouse floated over to Megatron, who fumbled with his hoof to catch it. “The funds I mentioned will be sent by courier this evening. And I will start my archivists looking for anything that might help you return to your world. Until then, welcome to Equestria! I look forward to seeing what you make of your new life!” The princess spread her wings, and with a gust of wind she was airborne, above the rooftops and banking towards the parade grounds where the Summer Sun Celebration was still in full swing. Megatron glared at the large iron key on his hoof. Gritting his teeth, he focused his will on his horn. Shakily, awkwardly, the key lifted into the air, floated over to the thick wooden main door of the guardhouse, and bumped into the latchplate. It took five attempts and a loud squeal of grinding metal before he finally got the accursed thing into the keyhole. As soon as the latch clicked, Skywarp barged forward. “Dibs on best room!” “Hey! You can’t do that!” “Get out of my way! I am your superior-OOF!” “Buzzsaw! The roof! Yes, quickly, the roof! We can get the good rooms that way!” “Hey, come back here! C’mon, Rumble, let’s get ‘em before all the good rooms are gone!” Megatron sighed as most of his Decepticon warriors galloped or flapped their ways into the stone building. Not that it mattered. He’d take his time, pick his own room, and throw out whichever unlucky subordinate happened to be in it. And letting them settle the rest among themselves was far more efficient than wasting his own time doing it. But it would be nice if, for a change, his warriors put a little less effort into bickering among themselves. It would never happen, but it would be nice… Megatron grumbled at the armor. For one thing, it left his hindquarters totally bare. For another, it chafed his fur abominably- something which never happened with a titano-alloy chassis. He liked the helmet, though, once he’d removed the idiotic scrub-brush crest from it and beat out the back into a proper flare. The helmet made him feel like his old self, at least a little. So many strange things to deal with, he thought. Clothes, although the ponies here treated them as options instead of necessities. Food. Hygiene. Sleep. Money, and the need to earn it. He had always sneered at inferior organic life forms, and now he was one, with all the failings and weaknesses they possessed. For now, anyway. Until Starscream found a way home, or until the princesses did. Or until Megatron worked out a way to shift from this pitiful village, this Ponyville, to the center of power, where he could begin actively planning a coup. Or, he ruefully admitted as he looked out at the peaceful, bucolic dirt streets and thatched-roofed homes of the ponies, until I die of sheer boredom. I’ve seen many villages like this on many worlds. They’re all the same- dull boring towns full of dull, boring peasants. Nothing exciting will ever happen in Ponyville. Tapping his helmet to make sure it sat straight on his head, Megatron gave himself one final look in the mirror, nodded with satisfaction, and marched out in proper gladiatorial style into the arena that was the world. It was the first day of the rest of his pony life.