//------------------------------// // 1/13: Unicron Take the Hindmost (Fall Weather Friends) // Story: Friendship is Deceptive // by Kris Overstreet //------------------------------// “Haven’t you got some reading to be doing, Starscream?” Megatron barely spared his lieutenant a glance, let alone a space on the haybales piled up next to the farmyard. His attention remained centered on the two ponies on the field, currently engaged in an attempt to juggle large balls in the air, or so it seemed. “All work and no recharge makes a bot rusty,” Starscream replied, settling on a haybale just out of arm’s reach of Megatron. “Besides, Twilight Sparkle closed the library today. So I came out here to see what all the fuss was about.” Megatron snorted. “It is evidently some sort of athletic competition between two of this village’s champions,” he said. “Thin oil indeed compared to what went on in the gladiatorial pits.” “Then why not go down there and show them some things, oh mighty Megatron?” Starscream asked, in that voice which was obviously sarcastic but which the annoying idiot would always insist was perfect sincerity. “Three reasons,” Megatron grumbled. “First, I was not invited. This is a private contest, and our position here is still uncertain. Second, most of the things done in the ring on Cybertron would earn imprisonment or exile in this pathetic and weak country.” He gave Starscream a moment’s glance- after all, it never did to ignore him for too long, or you’d never see the laser dagger coming. “But most important, this makes a perfect opportunity to observe the skills of two potential enemies. They let anybody watch this. Even you.” “I hardly see what interest there is in this primitive exhibition,” Starscream said sulkily, not having an answer for Megatron’s dig. “Oh no?” Megatron asked. “That merely demonstrates why I lead the Decepticons and you don’t. I have already made several key observations about these two.” “What is there to observe?” Starscream asked. He pointed at the orange pony in the hat. “The farmer over there is obviously the stronger of the two, and she has the greater raw dexterity.” He pointed at the blue pegasus. “Rainbow Dash, on the other hand, has faster reflexes, and in tasks which she’s practiced, she comes out the better. It took me all of ten minutes to see that.” Megatron raised an eyebrow. Starscream was one-eighths genius and seven-eighths unutterable fool, and it was those moments when the genius popped out for a quick scan that caused Megatron to keep him around. (Granted, most of those moments involved attempts to usurp him, and the fool always ended up overriding the genius, but it kept life interesting.) “Well observed,” he said in a moment of rare praise. “So you do understand the advantage of observation.” “Not in this case,” Starscream said. “This contest is a foregone conclusion. Rainbow Dash has an advantage this Applejack pony can never counter.” “Are you quite so certain?” Megatron asked. “Of course!” Starscream said. “It is the same advantage that secured our superiority over the Autobots. Applejack cannot fly!” “Is that so?” Megatron smiled his favorite smile, the one that promised pain for someone else. “And how many times have you been bested by those inferior, non-flying Autobots… Air Commander Starscream?” “That’s beside the point!” “That is exactly the point!” “Very well!” Starscream snapped. “Let us watch the remainder of this farce! And you will see, Megatron, that no creature confined to the ground can surpass one who can fly!” As it turned out, the last several events all went to Rainbow Dash, who won all of them by flying. Starscream hooted and waved a banner with the initials RD emblazoned on it as Applejack lost the final tug-of-war by dropping several ponylengths straight down into the mud. (Megatron neither knew nor cared how he’d come by banner or the rainbow-colored cap he wore; he chalked it up to typical Starscream stupidity.) Finally, as the crowd began to disperse, Starscream shouted, “There! Did I not tell you, Megatron? A flyer is always superior to one who cannot fly!” “Your analysis is over-broad,” Megatron replied calmly. “Rainbow Dash is indeed superior to Applejack in situations where flight is an advantage. But that is merely because, as you no doubt observed, Applejack lacks the imagination to overcome this obstacle.” Starscream pointed a hoof down at the field, where Rainbow Dash and Applejack were staring each other down. “All I observe is that Applejack is a sore loser,” he said. “Is that popcorn vendor still around? It looks like we might have an entertaining brawl coming up!” “I very much doubt it,” Megatron said, a little disappointed himself. “These are two comrades in arms, after all. Rivals, yes, but nothing worse. There, see?” The two ponies were smiling, and then after a brief hoofshake, the two parted ways. “They’ve come to some sort of agreement on how to settle their differences. And unless I miss my guess, it will be with another contest.” “Hmpf. Sounds boring if you ask me,” Starscream grumbled. “And anyway, Rainbow Dash will win it. Flyers are always superior.” “Is that so?” Another reason Megatron kept Starscream around was that it was always fun to take him down a peg. This seemed like a perfect opportunity. “Starscream, not to overtax your powers of observation, but in this organic body I can no longer fly.” He faced Starscream directly, turning up the intimidation in his smile, and asked, “Are you willing to tell me to my face you think yourself superior to me?” Starscream hesitated to answer. Obviously the birdbrained ex-jet didn’t want to get blasted or pummeled, but at the same time he didn’t want to back off his stand. “Perhaps it is not just those two ponies who need an opportunity to test their might,” he said with a cautious challenge. “Very well,” Megatron said. “Then I propose this: we shall find out what challenge Applejack and Rainbow Dash have agreed to, and we shall participate ourselves, as a contest to see who truly is the superior Decepticon.” “That hardly seems fair, Megatron,” Starscream insisted. “We have no way of knowing-“ “What’s the matter, Starscream?” Megatron asked. “Why are you afraid? Perhaps flyers are not automatically superior after all!” That did it. “Who’s afraid?” Starscream snapped. “I accept your challenge, Megatron! And at the end of the challenge, all the Decepticons shall know their rightful leader!” “Yes,” Megatron agreed, nodding smugly. “I’m certain of it.” “Is something troubling you, Starscream?” “This rope chafes, if you must know.” Megatron had heard about the Running of the Leaves weeks before. Starscream, who paid more attention to his books than to the ponies around him, had completely missed it. Thus Megatron had not been surprised to learn that Applejack and Rainbow Dash had chosen the Running as their final contest. Starscream had been completely blindsided, the fool. “Remember, Starscream,” Megatron said, “these ponies believe that pony hooves are necessary to shake the leaves off the trees. Thus, flight is entirely beside the point. The course must be completed on foot.” “On hoof,” Starscream mumbled sullenly. “On hoof,” Megatron repeated, magnanimously accepting the correction. “In any case, I’m still faster than you,” Starscream continued. “I admit you are stronger physically, but you are heavy and thickly built. I am lighter and streamlined, traits ideally selected for raw speed.” “We shall see,” Megatron said complacently. “Just do remember that this is a marathon and not a sprint. I would like today to be at least a little interesting.” “Well, I hope you find dust interesting, Megatron,” Starscream snapped. “I’ll certainly give you plenty to look at!” “I’m not concerned with dust,” Megatron said. “And don’t be so eager to cast it that you end up eating it.” “Contestants to the starting line,” the voice of Mayor Mare called. “Contestants for the Running of the Leaves to the starting line.” “It’s time,” Megatron said. “Good luck… Number Fifteen.” “I won’t need luck,” Starscream snarled. “And watch your back… Number Eighty-Three.” Yes, thought Megatron to himself. I certainly shall watch my back, if only so I can laugh at your pathetic failure. It’s going to be a good day. After months on this world, stuck in an organic body, Megatron had learned how to pace himself. Conserving energy had been important in the gladiatorial pits, where the unwise exhausted their energon only to fall to the more canny opponent. It was even more vital for organics, who had fatigue toxins and stress injuries to worry about along with simple lack of energy. So the silver unicorn hadn’t minded when most of the pack had left him behind. He maintained his own trot, a pace he could keep up indefinitely, and kept an eye on the course ahead. So long as other ponies were visible either in front or behind him, he was safe… but once he was separated from the rest, Starscream would strike. The idea that Starscream might just run a clean race never once entered into Megatron’s mind. The universe operated according to simple laws, and one of them was that Starscream, given any opportunity, simply could not resist trying to permanently eliminate his competition, even when guaranteed victory lay in his grasp. The idiot could be within two steps of the finish line, with no one behind him for a megamile, and he would still turn around to lay some sort of ambush. He couldn’t not. And sure enough, at a bend in the path which perfectly cut Megatron off from view of the pack ahead and the stragglers behind, something whooshed down from the tree canopy on the right. Megatron caught it in his magic without effort and flung it back twice as hard, barely noting the nature of the thing- very heavy log on ropes- before continuing on his run. He did smile at the muffled yelp of pain behind him, though. About a minute later a bruised Starscream, streaks of sap running across his red-furred chest, galloped past at top speed. “Having trouble, Starscream?” Megatron shouted, grinning from ear to ear. “Shut up!” Starscream shouted back, not slowing a bit. Megatron shrugged and kept going. It didn’t take long before some of the early pack leaders began falling back, having exhausted themselves early. Megatron passed them cleanly, giving them not a glance. He didn’t have time for fools… well, technically he had time for one particular fool, but he expected that fool to take all his available attention. And almost like clockwork, he rounded another curve and saw a small wooden bridge ahead, spanning a brook almost any pony could have just jumped across without breaking stride. Indeed there was just barely enough room under the bridge for a pony, if he were so inclined, to crawl under and hide. Megatron didn’t need to look to know that a pony, or rather a Decepticon-turned-pony, had done exactly that. All he needed was the one plank that looked much newer than the rest of the bridge… … and a long-standing knowledge of how Starscream thought, which meant that he knew that shiny brand-new board was the one guaranteed safe spot on the entire bridge. Starscream, thinking he was clever, would make the obvious change, expecting Megatron to avoid it and instead put a hoof on one of the old planks to either side of it. That would be the booby-trapped one, and Starscream would be under the bridge to make sure Megatron didn’t go any farther. Give the bot his due, Starscream was one-eighth genius. And a lesser warrior than Megatron might indeed have been fooled. But the seven-eighths fool had neglected two important considerations. First, a lesser opponent wouldn’t think anything of a fresh repair on an old plank bridge at all, and would step just anywhere, probably missing the trap… … and second, the bridge was small and unimportant enough that even a non-flying pony could leap over without a lot of trouble, and Megatron did just that. He paused for just a moment as he landed, lining up a hind hoof at one of the support posts for the little bridge, and he gave it an almighty kick. The bridge shook, three of the old planks collapsed, and something let out a loud, metallic SNAP. A high-pitched, barely suppressed squeal of pain followed. Satisfied, Megatron resumed his normal pace. About a minute later Starscream passed him up again. The ex-Seeker was limping, but he could limp very quickly, his legs moving almost too fast for Megatron to notice the bloody bite marks on one hindleg. “Having trouble, Starscream?” he asked. Starscream’s only answer was a wordless shriek of rage as he kept running. Megatron trotted on for several minutes, getting passed by a couple of ponies (including, he noticed, Twilight Sparkle, wearing #42) and passing quite a number of others himself. For quite some time he was always within sight of at least one other pony. That disappointed him, and he almost considered slowing down so that Starscream would have another shot at him. But he kept up his pace, because it would take more than a moment’s amusement for Megatron to deliberately perform less than his best in any contest, no matter how trivial. Then there came a point where the path diverged. One path led up onto a hill that jutted up from the White Tail Woods; the other turned into the heart of the woods, the path narrowing significantly in that direction. A helpful sign next to the road, shaped like an arrow, indicated the race course went on the narrower path. Megatron stopped and smirked. Of course. With no other opportunity to test his ingenuity, there simply was no way Starscream could have passed up the opportunity to switch the guidepost. Obviously the hilltop path was the true direction, and the narrower path a dead end of some sort. Quite likely there was a pitfall or some other pathetic trap at the end of it. With a flick of a hoof Megatron switched the sign back to its proper direction, then began trotting up the hillside. And trotting. And trotting. All alone, he eventually realized, except for galloping hooves far, far ahead and above. Something’s wrong, he thought. I’m all alone now. Starscream should be triggering an avalanche or something similar. And come to think of it, I haven’t seen a tree near the course since shortly after… “THERE you are! Where have you BEEN?” Panting and gasping for breath, Starscream came galloping up the course behind him. “How am I supposed to… win the race… if you don’t even…” “What are you babbling about, Starscream?” Megatron asked. “Did you get tired of waiting for me at your next ambush?” “Of COURSE I… I mean… I…” Starscream’s jaw worked as he struggled to come up with a halfway decent lie. Something orange barreled between the two of them. “SCUSE ME! AH’M BORROWIN’ THIS!” Starscream spun to the ground, wings flaring, as the rope that had bound them flapped behind Applejack as she galloped away with it full speed back up the hill. Megatron walked over to Starscream. “So you didn’t switch the signpost?” he asked. “No, I didn’t switch the signpost!” Starscream snapped. “The course is the other way! Right now you’re stone dead last!” “Really?” Megatron smirked. “If that’s true, then why did you come back for me when you could have won easily?” “I…” Megatron had to say this much for pony bodies, it was much more entertaining to watch one going slack-jawed than the equivalent robotic face. Alas, the moment was short-lived, as Starscream finally came up with his lie and pulled himself together. “I didn’t want you to be able to say I took unfair advantage of you when I win.” “So it wasn’t because you were hopelessly stupid and forgot about the race in your desire to sabotage me.” “Who, me?” Starscream put on that smile he thought was endearing and trustworthy. Normally it was a smile Megatron longed to knock off his chassis, but here and now it was all he could do to keep from laughing out loud. “Well, then,” Megatron said, “since you value a clean and fair contest…” With a spring of his hind hooves he bounded over Starscream, calling back, “Keep up if you can, oh superior athlete!” This time Starscream didn’t blow right past him. Megatron could hear the light clip-clip of his hooves behind him, but they never got any closer. Between setting his traps and then rushing ahead for the next ambush, Starscream had spent himself. Megatron, on the other hand, had conserved his energy for the final push, and now, as he took a sharp left turn around the signpost and headed into the heart of the forest, he gave it his all. Most of the runners had gone on far ahead, but some stragglers remained for Megatron to dodge. He brushed past them at full gallop, dismissing them from his attention one by one. His focus was reserved for two things: the faint but discernible path in front of him, and the light clipping of hooves and increasingly labored breathing coming from behind him. Then the woods opened up, and there in front of Megatron was the Smoky Mountain road leading back to Ponyville. Megatron could just see the main pack of runners going over the second hill on the way back to town- the home stretch before the finish. And unlike the run through the deepest part of the woods, the road lay clear, wide, and open before him. He took the right-hand turning onto the road, put his helmeted head down, and kicked in his reserves. His hooves thundered along the hard-packed dirt road, while the light clip-a-clop of Starscream’s hooves rapidly grew fainter. Then a shadow passed over Megatron, and Starscream landed in front of him, wings spread. The wings swept down, and Starscream leaped, surging forward into a long, quick glide that carried him faster than Megatron could run. “That’s flying, Starscream!” Megatron shouted. “What was that about an unfair advantage?” Starscream had used the glide to recover his breath. “I leaped!” he shouted back, turning his head over his shoulder as he flew. “Leaping is allowed! The rules don’t say anything about how far you’re allowed to leap!” Megatron snorted and saved any further breath for running. He had no issues with unfair advantages so long as they were his. In battle, take any advantage you can grab. But it galled him when that advantage lay in someone else’s hands (or wings). Still, you didn’t complain. Whining was for weaklings, and in the pits weaklings died. Instead you preserved yourself and waited for the enemy to make a mistake. And it wasn’t as if Starscream’s so-called leaps (which were getting longer and more brazen every time) were unexpected… or unanticipated. Just ahead was one last narrow part of the course, with a steep rocky hill on the left side of the road and the forest on the right. The trees formed a canopy, creating a sort of tunnel that the road passed through. And now Starscream dispensed with any pretense of jumping, turning around to fly backwards as he faced Megatron. “Face it, Megatron! I’ve won!” he crowed. “Because even when all other factors are equal, the flyer shall always be the superior-“ At that point he hit the net stretched across the road just below the forest canopy. Megatron had put it there himself the previous night, just in case. The net grabbed Starscream and spun him around a full turn, then unwound again, grabbing his legs and snaring him three different ways. It took Starscream only a moment to realize what had happened. “Megatron! You did this! You cheated!” “Who, me?” Megatron laughed even as he galloped under the stranded Starscream. “That net was no danger if you were running.” As he passed back out into the open he added, “Or if you weren’t a fool!” And that was that. On the other side of the rocky hill the road ran almost perfectly straight to Ponyville, where the whole town- including the runners who had already finished- lined the course to watch the last runners cross the line. No more short-circuited schemes, no more cheating where no one could see. People were watching, and that meant Starscream couldn’t try any more stupid tricks. Which meant Megatron had won. And the cheering of the other Decepticons as he crossed the finish line reminded him of the early days in the pits, before he recognized the cheers of the crowds as the symptom of Cybertron’s corruption. He’d been a fool to delight in those cheers… but seldom had later victories ever tasted as sweet. And speaking of victories, he made sure to be standing nearby when Starscream staggered across the finish line on four wobbly hooves, receiving his official result from the judges. “Seventy-ninth??” “Seventy-ninth? Not as bad as it could have been for a first-time runner,” Megatron said, walking over to where Starscream stood, covered in lather and ears drooping as he stared at the board where the contestants’ names were posted as they came in. “After all, you didn’t come in absolute last.” The big unicorn showed his teeth and added, “But you did come in behind me… didn’t you?” The ears could only go lower if Starscream lowered his head, so he did. “Yes,” he mumbled. “Yes what?” Megatron ordered. “Yes… Lord Megatron,” Starscream said sullenly. “And don’t you forget it,” Megatron hissed. “And in the future remember that flight is only an advantage- one of many. And it is nothing compared to the advantage of intelligence.” “You bested me this time, Megatron,” Starscream sulked. “But I still say flyers are superior. And Rainbow Dash will prove me right.” “You still believe that?” Megatron asked. “Applejack will have defeated her long since.” He looked up at the results board, adding, “Her name must be here somewhere…” As he spoke, one of the judges stepped forward and wrote two names on the board in the last two spots on the board, with the numbers T – 91st beside each. This done, the judge drew a line through the remaining blanks on the list. Megatron and Starscream read the names. They shared a moment of uncomfortable silence. “Well, they wrote Rainbow Dash’s name on the list higher than Applejack’s,” Starscream said, in no tone that suggested he thought it mattered. “Cease your blathering,” Megatron grumbled, “and never speak of this day again.”