Operation: Patriotism

by Darkryt Orbinautz


II: These Rites of Ours

Equestria, Wonderbolt Academy.

The Wonderbolt Academy was a military camp, accessible only by those with the power of flight. Before the Decepticon Occupation, that meant only pegasi and Equestrian gryphons, but now, with the humans' plane technology and the Decepticon jets, flying was no longer such an ubiquitous feature.

Like most military installations, it had a mess hall, comfy offices for the commanders, and very poorly padded huts for the cadets and trainees. Most of the huts were identical to each other, except for a number above their door. But there was one hut that was identifiable as Rainbow Dash's by its very distinct neighbor.

A navy-blue F35-Lightning style jet adorned with subdued yellow, like a Blue Angels aircraft, parked just to the side of the building. This was Dreadwing's vehicular mode.

Dreadwing had joined the Wonderbolts to give him a sense of purpose after Megatron's demise. He was a soldier to his core, and like any soldier, he wasn't happy if he wasn't given orders. Spitfire, a yellow pegasus with fiery red hair who was captain of the Wonderbolts, had initially been reluctant to the idea of accepting a Decepticon within her ranks, but Dreadwing had quickly proven himself a loyal and steadfast trooper.

Rainbow Dash, having fought in the War before the New York Massacre, was resistant to the idea of Dreadwing being her wingpony. Her previous wingpony had proven herself to be something of an arrogant jerk, eventually leaving the academy in shame. Getting Rainbow Dash a new wingpony to replace her old one had been a pain . . . until Dreadwing came along. Naturally, having just spent the last days of the war on opposite sides, Dash vehemently resisted Dreadwing's efforts to ingratiate himself, but Spitfire and Dash came around after seeing Dreadwing's ability to follow orders.

As the time came for the cadets to haul Cutie Mark out of their bunkers, Dreadwing was just a minute ahead of Rainbow Dash. His jet-form broke apart into panels and blocks, revealing swivels and hinges other mechanical parts that would give his autonomous robot mode movement. Once his transformation sequence was complete, Dreadwing took a look around and attempted to enjoy the fresh air. He heard about organics doing that sort of thing and he wanted to fit in.

Being a machine, Dreadwing had an internal clock wired into his body, so he knew exactly what time it was.

Dreadwing raised his hand and knocked gently on Rainbow Dash's hut. Being made of metal, even a gentle knock from him was enough to send reverberations throughout the hut.

Dash swung the door open, still clad in white and pink-striped pajamas, rubbing her tired eyes. She yawned. "Oh . . . what's the problem?" She asked thin air.

"Nearly 8 A.M on this planet's time, Captain." Dreadwing stonily informed her, appearing from the side of her cabin. "Time for all the cadets to get up, unless I'm mistaken."

"Whatever. . ." Dash grumbled. She was not a morning pony by any stretch of the imagination. "Alright, alright . . . come on, Dreadwing." Dash instructed, walking the steps from her cabin. She had only taken a few steps out before realizing Dreadwing wasn't following her.

"Yo, Dreadwing! There a problem!?"

Dreadwing pursed his lips. "You are . . . not in uniform."

"Oh, for Celestia's sake . . . " Dash muttered under her breath, bringing a hoof to her forehead. "Fine. You go on without while I get dressed." Dash turned and headed back inside her cabin while Dreadwing saluted her and then followed her orders, tromping his way towards the plateau where Spitfire belted out their orders for the day.

Dreadwing frowned, which increased inch-by-inch into an angry grimace. Rainbow Dash hadn't noticed. Spitfire hadn't noticed, or she had and turned a blind eye to it. But all the other cadets gave him looks. They were uncomfortable around him. They were distrustful and suspicious of him.

Most days, Dreadwing ignored them. His sense of professionalism meant he disregarded their uncertain stares and dismissed their nervous posture.

But today, he heard them whispering, and even though he wasn't one for baseless accusations, he knew they were whispering about him. Two cadets, one a blonde light-blue pegasus mare, the other a white, blue-haired stallion, were muttering fervently into the ear of the other.

Dreadwing would allow them all the stares and gestures they liked, but spreading rumors was where he drew the line.

Approaching the two gossips, Dreadwing crossed his arms and growled.

"Is there a problem, my fellow cadets?"

The two ponies looked up, worried that they had been caught.

"Uh, no!" The mare assured him uncertainly. "No problem here at all!"

"Hmm." Dreadwing leered at them before turning and resuming his march to the plateau.

"Alright, cadets!" Spitfire, clad in her uniform, shouted at them once they had all been gathered. "It's time for a performance review!" Spitfire blew on her whistle and shook her hoof at the clouds. "Fly!"

The cadets all galloped towards the edge before spreading their wings and taking to the sky, Rainbow Dash included. Dreadwing waited for the other cadets to depart before running after Rainbow Dash. The force of his cobalt legs could easily trip the other cadets if he wasn't careful.

Only mere seconds behind Rainbow Dash's jump off the cliffside, Dreadwing jumped after her, transforming mid-jump to follow. Rainbow Dash began swerving through the air, showing off her aerial skill. Despite Rainbow Dash’s increasingly complicated flight maneuvers, Dreadwing followed her movements with pinpoint accuracy.

"Hey guys!" Rainbow Dash waved as she smashed through a cloud and happened upon her fellow cadets in flight. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much . . . " One cadet said.

"Yeah, nothing much here . . . e-excuse us, we have to go."

The two cadets straightened out their wings and did a swan dive away from Dash.

"Huh. Wonder what that was all about."

Dreadwing speculated it had something to do with his bulky jet-form tailing closely behind Dash, but he felt she didn't need to know that.


Later, after the drills were all done, Dreadwing flew away from the Academy by himself and did a fly by of some otherwise unnoticeable lake some distance away. He swerved down and converted into robot mode, landing down at the side of the lake. Fluttershy was there, on the other side of the water, standing by the edge and watching the water with two of the Insecticons – giant dark green Cybertronian beetle-bots – were lying in their beast modes with her.

"Hmm?" Fluttershy questioned, looking up. "Oh. Hello, Dreadwing." She resumed staring at the lake.

Dreadwing grunted. He was a Decepticon, a Seeker! A brutal aerial warrior with no equal! He shouldn't have been sitting next to this shy pony, idly gazing at still waters! He should be drawing his blaster and demanding her immediate surrender in the name of Megatron!

But Megatron was dead, and the "shy pony" had established herself as capable of kicking as much Decepticon flank as the next well-trained Autobot guardian.

Most Ponies and Humans probably wouldn't have understood Dreadwing's discontent with his situation. To them, it was an ideal scenario; the driving force of his military is gone, so he needs something to do with his life. Bam, finds a place with the Wonderbolts. Now he's got something to do, right?

But in Decepticon terms, Dreadwing had gone from being a five-star general to a bum living with whoever was willing to put a roof over his head. Decepticons did not need measly, tiny organics to be their keepers. They could take care of themselves!

Except for Dreadwing, who had chosen to sign up for the Wonderbolts and be barked at by creatures who he was capable of stepping on.

Dreadwing sighed, reflecting his lot in life.

Fluttershy noticed. "Dreadwing? Is something wrong?"

Dreadwing looked at her, then looked at the water. He knelt on one knee and touched his silver finger to the lake, making it ripple.

"Why are you at this lake, Fluttershy?" Dreadwing asked. "There is nothing here!"

Fluttershy shrugged, giggling. "So you say, but I know if I wait long enough, I'll get to see the cute little fishies making their rounds!"

Dreadwing shook his head, Fluttershy's nature-loving ways lost on his Seeker-Warrior mind. "Why? What is the purpose in such activity?"

"Oh, I don't know . . . it makes me happy, I guess. To see the fish living their lives happily, with nothing on their mind. Nothing to worry about except food and air for them." Fluttershy closed her eyes, imagining a blissful life as a simple-minded fish. "Wouldn't that be great? A life free of conflict and strife . . ."

Dreadwing's carmine optic twitched in disbelief. A life free of conflict? That sounded dreadful. Dreadwing had been born for war, built for war, and trained for war. Conflict was his driving purpose. If he wasn't in a fight, he was thinking about how to improve himself for the next fight.

Dreadwing took a moment to think about what Fluttershy said, when an unpleasant memory made its way into his mind.

Are you happy, Dreadwing? Blackout's voice echoed in his mind.

Dreadwing turned to his reflection. He saw the Wonderbolt stickers pasted over his wings where his Decepticon badge would be. He saw it- he saw himself, standing there. Standing still, motionless. Purposeless. A rebel without a cause. A knight without a flag. A black knight, devoid of identity and renounced of his kingdom. Where would all this training at the Wonderbolt Academy get him, anyway? Into the Wonderbolts themselves? To do what? Fly around and around in circles at air shows and fail at being an effective military presence?

No. That was not a life Dreadwing thought was worth living.

"Hmph." Dreadwing grunted, turning to leave.

"Dreadwing?" Fluttershy squeaked. "Where are you going?"

Dreadwing didn't answer her, transforming and blasting off.


Meanwhile, in Twilight's library, Twilight observed herself in the mirror. She was wearing a black dress, black veil, and a sun hat with a red band around it.

This is what Earth women wore at funerals, right?

Twilight Sparkle exited out the door of her library, trotting out onto the grass. She sat on her haunches.

She arranged for a Space Bridge to pick her up, and was waiting on it to open so she could go through. She noticed an orange filly, a white filly, and a olive-yellow filly running towards her. The group was collectively known as the Cutie Mark Crusaders, comprised of Scootaloo, a pegasus, Sweetie Belle, Rarity's younger sister, and Apple Bloom, Applejack's younger sister.

"Twilight!" Apple Bloom shouted as they ran up to her. "Twilight! Hey, Twilight!"

"Hey, girls." Twilight greeted as they excitedly trotted up to her. "What can I do for you?"

"We heard you were gonna go to Cybertron!?" Scootaloo chattered.

"Yes, that's right . . . whyyyy do you ask?" Twilight’s voice started off pleasant, but swerved abruptly towards suspicious. The Cutie Mark Crusaders were never the most responsible kids, so Twilight had reason to be suspicious.

"Can we come with you?" Scootaloo blurted.

"We've never been on Cybertron ourselves!" Apple Bloom added.

"I heard that its covered in ruins and powered by Changelings!" Sweetie Belle exclaimed. "Is that true!?"

"Yes, it's true." Twilight replied, putting a hoof on her head. Her mind was heavy right now, so it didn't occur that maybe something as nasty as the Changeling Batteries would be best ket hidden from the fillies. "Yes, it's covered in ruins. And I would love to take you sometime, but I'm . . . going to a very dark place, today."

"A dark place? Does that mean all the lights are permanently off?"

"No, no." Twilight grimaced. Should I tell them about the Vehicon funeral I’m going to? She eventually decided against it. Twilight didn't know if they understood enough about death rituals, let alone foreign rituals, and she didn't want to be the one to explain to them. Applejack and Rarity would overreact and have her hide if she did that. "It's adult pony stuff. You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, pleeease?" Apple Bloom begged. "We'll be real good! We promise!" They huddled together and quivered their lips, yellow halos of light magically forming around their heads.

" . . . Hooow are you doing that?" Twilight questioned, pointing to the halos on their heads. In magical Equestria, spontaneous generation of light wasn't unexpected, but these three were fillies, and the only unicorn amongst them wasn't even old enough to do magic.

"Do what?" Scootaloo asked innocently.

Twilight sighed. She clearly wasn't going to get anywhere with this.

"All right, fine. But don't touch anything, don't wander off, and don't interact with anypony unless I say it's okay!" Twilight sternly warned them, as the Space Bridge appeared next to her. Twilight shepherded them through the Bridge with her.

On the other end of the Bridge was a copper-colored plaza area. The Bridge deposited the quartet of Ponies right in front of what appeared to be a Cybertronian reception desk, where a Vehicon was stationed. The Vehicon turned his head, seeing the Space Bridge, but not its comparatively tiny occupants

"Hello!" Twilight called. "Down here!" The Vehicon put his claws on the desk and leaned forward, eventually spotting them.

"Oh. Hello. What can I do for you?" The Vehicon asked pleasantly.

"I'm here about the . . ." Twilight frowned and looked the Crusaders. Twilight beckoned the Vehicon closer. The Vehicon reached up and used his claw to pick Twilight like a crane, bringing her close to his head.

" . . . The funeral?" Twilight said quietly.

"Oh." The Vehicon replied. "Yes, I understand. I'm sorry, but . . . the funeral has been delayed."

"Delayed!?" Twilight shrieked. "What possible reason could you have for delaying it!?"

"Miss, I'm just the attendant. I don't make the decisions, I just follow them. But to answer your question, it's been delayed because we've been given notice we'll have another addition."

"What!?" Twilight exclaimed. "How could you possibly know ahead of time that a Decepticon is going to die?"

The Vehicon hesitated before answering.

"Because this death has been prearranged."


Later that night on Equestria, where the sky was a clear, vivid dark purple adorned with stars . . . Dreadwing stood cross-armed on the edge of the Wonderbolt Academy plateau, waiting for Rainbow Dash.

"Hey!" A rainbow blur appeared and landed behind him, shifting from a blur into the image of a blue Pony. "You wanted to see me, Dreadwing?"

"Yes." Dreadwing answered, turning to her. "Yes, I did."

"What about?" Dash asked casually, bouncing up and rolling over onto her back side.

Dreadwing turned his head away. "About . . . my future."

"'Kay." Dash said, missing Dreadwing's grave tone. "What about it?"

Dreadwing lowered his brow, observing that Rainbow Dash was missing his body language.

"Rainbow Dash, I no longer wish to be a Wonderbolt cadet."

Dash's eyes widened. Being a Wonderbolt had always been her dream. And for Dreadwing to be as close to realizing that dream as she was, only to want to quit? It was inconceivable. A scandal, even!

"W-what? But why?" Rainbow Dash didn't want to admit it, but she was upset. Dreadwing was a good partner.

"This is not my place." Dreadwing stated simply. "I am a Decepticon. A soldier. A warrior." A look of disgust creased his face. "I do not belong with peace-loving, friendship-toting, "redemption"-happy Ponies. I was meant to win glorious battles in the name of my sovereign. With my . . . defection to the Wonderbolts, my "sovereign" is now Princess Celestia, who would never send me to fight for her cause. If she needs something done, she calls upon you, Twilight Sparkle, and the rest of your compatriots . . . while I am stuck behind at this base, forced into repetitive flying training day in and day out! And for what!? To fly around in circles as some form of amusement!? No. No, that is not a life I wish to live, Rainbow Dash."

"In fact . . ." Dreadwing continued. "I no longer wish to live, period. I've sent a communique the Decepticon Justice Division to turn myself in as a deserter. In two days, I will meet them on Messatine, and they will fight with me to the death. They will inevitably kill me, after a long and ..." Dreadwing paused, savoring the mental images of himself in glorious battle, "brutal, devastating fight." Dreadwing thought about being thrown into a gladiator pit and being forced to fight with opponents far superior to him. Robots with more upgrades, bigger guns, and faster equipment for movement. The thought made him smile peacefully.

Which contrasted sharply to Rainbow Dash's open-mouthed, slack-jawed expression of horror.


The next day at Omega One, Optimus had dislocated Ratchet from his usual post to take over the computer. Optimus was gesturing towards the computer, which was displaying a view of a planet from spatial orbit. In front of him were the rest of Autobot High Command, Magnus, Magnum, and Grimlock.

"-reports indicate the base is located here, in this sector." Optimus said, adding to the information he already gave to his fellows.

"Uh-huh." Grimlock cricked his neck. "What do you want US to do about it, exactly?"

Optimus was about to answer when a Bridge opened smack-dab in the middle of the floor, and Rainbow Dash came careening out of it like a skidding car about to crash. She skidded to halt at Magnum's feet.

"Guys!" Rainbow Dash panted, out of breath. "Guys! I . . . - need your help!"

"Slow down there, soldier." Magnum said. He bent down and picked Dash by the scruff of her neck. "What seems to be the problem?"

Rainbow Dash took in a deep breath. "Dreadwing . . ." She gestured at the Bridge. "Dreadwing's gone crazy!"

Ultra Magnus chuckled. "So? He's a Con, isn't he?"

"Yeah, but . . . he's not usually like, Con-Con levels of crazy!"

"Con-con? I'll never understand your organic slang. . . " Magnum noted.

"He- he just told last night he arranged to meet the Decepticon Justice Division, and they were going to kill him!" Rainbow Dash made to go through the Bridge. "Come on! We gotta stop him-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Ultra Magnus pinched Rainbow Dash's tail between his fingers. "Hang on there, little pony." Dash glared. Magnus continued. "While I'm normally all for rushing headfirst into the field of danger, guns a-blazing with no plan or strategy, you can't fight the Decepticon Justice Division!"

"Can too!" Rainbow Dash protested.

Magnus blanched. "No, no you really can't. Let me explain something to you, Rainbow Dash: In 'Decepticon Justice Division', 'justice' means unmarked graves. Their alternate modes? All torture devices. One of them turns into a freakin' electric chair. You really don't want to mess with a bot who decides he's going to transform into a stationary execution device!"

"So!?" Rainbow Dash protested, shaking herself free of Magnus' grip. "We still have to save Dreadwing! He wants them to kill him because he 'doesn't want to be a Wonderbolt'!" Rainbow Dash prepared to zoom through the Bridge again. "Come on, people! We need to smack some sense into him AND smack some Division flank!"

Rainbow Dash moved for the Bridge, but was surprised when she smacked into the glass of Optimus' chest. She removed himself from Optimus' windows and hovered in front of him.

"Rainbow Dash," Optimus said in that stern voice of his, "while I do not condone Dreadwing's willful decision to end his own life, I also do not approve of you deciding what is best for him." Optimus put his hands on his hips and leaned down as Rainbow Dash looked shamefully at the ground. "Did Dreadwing mention why he no longer wishes to be a Wonderbolt?"

Rainbow snorted, crossing her forelegs. "Yeah! He said that he was 'a soldier' and that Celestia always has me and the other girls do things, so he was never gonna get any action!"

"Anything else?" Optimus inquired, not thinking this was the full story.

Dash sighed. "He also said that Equestrians were peace-loving, and he didn't belong with us. Which is, like, soo not true! He totally belongs in Equestria as much as the next Autobot!"

"Dreadwing is not an Autobot." Optimus reminded her. "And he is indeed, first and foremost, a warrior. It is likely that Dreadwing feels that, without a war or cause to fight for, Dreadwing feels he no longer has anything to live for."

Rainbow Dash attempted to argue. "But – he could be a Wonderbolt with me! Can you imagine!? Ponies will talk about "Rainbow Dash and Dreadwing, the very first Pony-Decepticon aerial flying duo!""

"And are you certain that a life of fame and fortune is what Dreadwing wants?"

Rainbow Dash's limbs sagged towards the floor. "No . . ."

Optimus carefully placed his fingers comfortingly around her back. "I will attempt to persuade him otherwise, but I do not believe I will be successful." Optimus carefully placed his fingers comfortingly around her back. "I will attempt to persuade him otherwise, but I do not believe I will be successful." Optimus took his hand off her, then put a finger on his head. “Hello, is this the right frequency? I’m calling for Dreadwing. This is Optimus.”

What do you want, Prime?” Dreadwing snapped through the comm.

“I wish to talk.” Optimus left the room for some privacy. “I’ve been told you are looking to kill yourself?”

Rainbow Dash was left hanging, flying in the air with nothing for her to do but worry. Ultra Magnus brought his fingers down her back the way a human might bring their fingers down the back of their cat, but it did little to sooth her.

“Rainbow Dash is not taking the news of your decision well.” Optimus said in the other room.

Rainbow Dash is not my keeper. She does not own me.” Dreadwing replied.

“While that is true, she still cares about you, and her opinion should be considered. Moreover, , what you are doing destructive and harmful, and it is a course of action I must highly advise-”

Save your breath, Optimus. I do not answer to you. I …” Dreadwing’s voice lost some of its steadiness. “I don’t answer to anyone, anymore. My mind is made up. Do not bother with any further attempts to dissuade me.” His ferocity returned. Optimus opened his mouth to speak, but the comm clicked off. Optimus shook his head.

He returned to the main room, where Dash was waiting.

"Well?" Dash questioned.

Optimus remained silent for awhile before answering.

"I am sorry, Rainbow Dash. Dreadwing appears to have his mind made up, and he will not deter from this course of action." Optimus looked up, painful memories resurfacing, brought up by Dreadwing's behavior. "That same kind of attitude that cost many Autobots and Decepticons their lives . . ." He shook his head sadly.

"What!? No!" Rainbow Dash flew up and put her hooves on Optimus' face, the way she might a fellow pony to physically shake their head. "Can't you do something!?"

"I tried, Rainbow Dash." Optimus said, sounding a little irritated by her touching him. With his finger, he gently pushed her hooves off his face. "But Dreadwing will not change his position."

"But . . . but . . ." Rainbow Dash stuttered weakly, eventually lowering herself to the floor. She put her hooves over her face. "But . . . I was actually starting to like him!"

"I'm sorry." Optimus said again with a tone of finality. He turned his attention back to the screen, continuing to explain about the planet. If Rainbow Dash could have heard him over her despair, she might have heard Optimus mention interesting names like "Scorponok," "Fearswoop," "Deathsaurus," and "Straxus."


When it was night on Equestria and Rainbow Dash still hadn't stopped moping around the Autobot base, Ultra Magnus and Grimlock decided to forcefully evict her through the Bridge to her living quarters on Equestria.

She settled into her bed, lying awake for most of the night, worrying about Dreadwing. She slapped herself. Dreadwing was a Decepticon! She shouldn't have been this . . . distraught over his passing. But she was. Perhaps, she realized, because though Dreadwing was a Decepticon, he never exhibited common Decepticon traits like megalomania, hubris, or homicidal urges to kill everything. Instead, he was thoughtful, logical, and respectful. As he was when he first came to the Wonderbolt Academy. He made every effort to ingratiate himself.

Rainbow Dash twisted on her bed, still wondering if there was anything she could for her unlikely Decepti-pal. Optimus wouldn't do anything she approved of, (for example, beating Dreadwing down and chaining him up until he let go of the idea) and the rest of the High Command, while powerful figures in their own right, ultimately submitted to Optimus.

Then it hit her.

Smokescreen!

Smokescreen was a member of the Autobot Elite Guard, the cream of the Autobot crop. He somehow ended up on Equestria after some wacky accident involving an escape pod that knocked him into stasis lock, a form of suspended animation. Thankfully for him, this was after Earth and Equestria made first contact, and Optimus had Smokescreen stationed on Equestria, as a easy go-to when the Ponies found themselves in need of an Autobot's services.

He was also an impulsive daredevil, so it would be easy for her to persuade him to go along with whatever scheme she cooked up.


"Okay." Rainbow Dash said, waiting in a meadow. She had arranged for the other girls and Smokescreen to meet her there. They arrived in short order.

"Rainbow Dash, darling, whatever is going on?"

"Yeah. Fluttershy shore got worked up on her way over here. Wut's up?"

Rainbow waved her hoof. "Yeah, yeah, hang on . . . I'm still waiting for someone." The sound of a roaring engine filled the air. Within seconds, a silver and blue racing car with a very long hood, sqaushed roof, and a checkerboard pattern with screaming 38's on its side arrived. It swerved into a stop, just shy of hitting one of them, then broke apart into panels and blocks as it took the form of a speedy-looking Autobot. Smokescreen's robot mode was lithe, sleek, and shiny. His feet were formed out of his headlights, his car-doors made wings off his shoulders, and he a broad, youthful face, like a jock, with a silvery-white helmet with red and blue crests.

"I'm here." Smokescreen said, alternating his gaze between the six of them. "What's up?"

"Dreadwing . . ." Dash said heavily, not wanting to explain again. "Dreadwing's arranged to kill himself."

The six mares let out a collective gasp. Smokescreen looked on, clearly puzzled. “...and?”
Rainbow Dash’s upset glare was enough to silence him.

"But-but why?" Fluttershy stuttered.

"He says he doesn't want to be a celebrity." Dash answered, sounding spiteful. "Says he's meant for combat, and Celestia won't let him. Says he wants to die in combat."

"Well, that makes sense." Twilight said. "Dreadwing is a Decepticon whose proud of his warrior heritage, and Celestia probably doesn't even realize that he's technically under her control . . ."

"That doesn't matter! Point is, we have to stop him! We can't just let him do this!"

Everyone exchanged worried glances.

"Are you sure about that, Rainbow Dash?" Twilight asked.

"Have you told Optimus, yet?" Rarity questioned.

"Yes, I told Optimus, and he wouldn't do anything about it! And – hey, what do you mean, 'am I sure?'" Rainbow Dash questioned, leering at Twilight.

"Well . . ." Rarity stressed, grimacing.


"Dreadwing isn’t used to life on Equestria. The culture shock might be getting to him."

"So!?"

"And … well, more seriously ... we know Dreadwing, Rainbow Dash. We fought him, and some schools of thought teach that combat is something that lets you know who a person really is. Have you ever known him to give up on anything once he’s set his mind to it?”

“No …” Dash groaned.

“Right.” Twilight placed a hoof on Dash’s shoulder, “So even if we stop him, what’s going to keep him from trying again? What if we keep him away from the fight, but then he decides to forgo all this ceremony and just stab himself and be done with it when we’re not looking?”

"That’s a good point, Twilight." Fluttershy said. “Why doesn’t he just do that?”

"I think it’s because he wants to die … semi-honorably. Most schools teach that suicide as a coward’s act, but with these other Decepticons involved, it’s more like a ceremonial execution of a deserter, which is probably what Dreadwing sees himself as." Twilight said. "Heey . . . wait a minute ..." Twilight put two and together and became angry. "This is the reason why they delayed the funeral? Because of Dreadwing pulling some nonsense?"

"You didn't tell us you were going to a funeral!" Fluttershy squealed. "Whose it for?"

"Oh . . . Vehicons." Twilight answered nonchalantly.

"A funeral for Vehicons?" Rarity questioned. "Well, that's funny. They're not . . . real, are they? They're drones?"

"That's what I thought, but I've since been informed otherwise." Twilight answered.

"Can we focus on the real issue, please!?" Dash screamed. "We need to find some way to keep the Decepticon Justice Division from offing Dreadwing!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Smokescreen interjected, making a 'T' with his hands. "Time-out! Did you say Decepticon Justice Division!?"

"Yeah?"

"We can't fight the Decepticon Justice Division! They say Tarn nearly ripped Optimus Prime's arms off on one encounter. They say the entire team's armor is made thicker with plating taken off their victims! They say, one day, Tarn walked into an Autobot saloon, and every Autobot inside spontaneously off-lined themselves rather than go up against him!"

Twilight and Rarity were unimpressed.

"They say a lot, don't "they"?"

"But Smokescreen!" Fluttershy protested. "You arrived here on a ship with the Decepticon Justice Division, remember?"

"I was lucky!" Smokescreen objected. "They decided I was too trivial to bother killing, so they just let me off on the first planet they reached!"

"Okay, okay!" Twilight shouted. "Everypony take in a deep breath!" The others did as Twilight instructed, including Smokescreen . . . somehow . . . despite . . . being a robot, and . . . not needing to breath.

"You said Optimus didn't do anything?" Rarity asked Dash. "Well, now, that doesn't sound right. I don't think Optimus would approve of Dreadwing marching into his doom."

"He didn't, and he tried, but all he did was just talk to him." Dash scoffed. "Can you believe that?"

"Actually, I can."

"What!?"

"It makes sense." Twilight added. "Optimus believes . . . what was it, again? . . . "The freedom to choose is the right of all sentient beings." He also believes in the sanctity of life. He would certainly try to convince Dreadwing not go through with it . . . but if Dreadwing didn't listen, Optimus wouldn't force him not to. It's like a Catch 22. He can either violate either his principles about life and let Dreadwing kill himself, or he can violate his principles about freedom of choice and keep Dreadwing from doing what he wants, even if he "wants" is to die."

Dash stuttered. "You . . . I . . . I can't believe this! I thought you were my friends!"

"We are your friends, Rainbow Dash." Rarity gently reminded her. "That's why we're trying to make you see this from a different angle. I certainly respect that you want to keep Dreadwing alive . . . but given everything Twilight's said, I’m not sure that we can, unless we put him a straight-jacket, and I don’t think they make those in his size."

Dash's face contorted in anger.

"Goodness, darling!" Rarity exclaimed, taking another look at Twilight's face. "What are those bags under your eyes?"

"Oh, these?" Twilight asked, rubbing her eyes, which had dark bags under them. "Oh, Princess Celestia made me read twelves books in one weekend. She says its part of a study for a really, really big test."

"Well, that's kinda ridiculous." Rarity said.

"I know, right? In one whole weekend!"

"Actually, darling, I was referring to how it was ridiculous you'd have trouble reading that many books. I was very much under the impression you read nearly as four times that . . . in your sleep."

Twilight blushed. "Well, what can I say? Apparently it's a very, very big, important test that's, like, going to determine if I can advance to 'the next level' of my studies."

"Next level?" Rarity raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?" Twilight shrugged.

"Um, hello!?" Dash yelled. "Can we please focus on MY problem!?"

"Oh. Sorry. Yeah. Sure."


Elsewhere, on a distant planet far, far away from Equestria, a Space Bridge portal opened.

On this arctic planet, Dreadwing stepped out of the portal onto icy-white ground, his fists curled for a good fight. The weapons holstered on his back were raised slightly, and his face was grim, but it seemed to be hiding a smile. The area was dead silent, the only sound being the clang of Dreadwing’s footsteps as he walked across the frost, the ice cracking beneath his feet.

Messatine was the planet's name. It was a far-off "galactic outpost", which the Cybertronians' War had caught in its grasp during the period of expansion. It was known for being where the Decepticon Justice Division spent most of their time.

The Space Bridge Dreadwing arrived on closed behind him . . . and Dreadwing was displeased to hear the hum of another Space Bridge opening.

Dreadwing turned around and reached over his back, drawing out his hand-held sword that curved at the top. "Who goes there!?"

Dreadwing was both relieved and upset when Rainbow Dash, Smokescreen, Twilight, and the other girls stepped out of the Bridge. The Ponies were dressed in blue space suits that looked like they came from a cartoon, with glass bowls for helmets and green rings around their suits.

"Hey, Dreadwing!" Smokescreen said, trying to break the ice. "What's up?"

Rainbow Dash trotted briskly forward, planting her hooves into the ground.

Dreadwing scowled, aiming his sword at them. "You should not have followed me here, Rainbow Dash."

"Well, I did!" Dash said defiantly, rising to meet him. "I'm gonna stop you from this, one way or another! We came here for you, Dreadwing!"

"I did not ASK for you to come here for me!" Dreadwing said.

"As your Wonderbolt captain, I order you to stand down!"

"AS A DECEPTICON SEEKER, YOU HAVE NO AUTHORITY OVER ME!"

Dreadwing reached over his shoulders and tore off the Wonderbolt stickers covering his Decepticon insignias, tossing them to Rainbow Dash.

"Dreadwing!" Twilight shouted, intercepting the stickers' trajectory. "It's not too late to go back through the Space Bridge and forget about this. Rainbow Dash is too proud to admit it, but you're a pretty good partner, and you're not really a bad guy. I could put a good word and have the Princess give you a new purpose. Like . . . a reserve officer, or . . . a consultant of Decepticon psychology!"

Before Dreadwing could reply, there was a scream.

"DREADWING!"

Smokescreen, Dreadwing, and the girls turned around to the sight of five Decepticon shadows marching across the landscape, approaching them; the Decepticon Justice Division, in the mesh.

"We have agreed to meet you here, Dreadwing." The foremost shadow said. "It always pains me when a loyal Decepticon abandon Megatron's path. You were one of the good ones, Dreadwing. I'm so glad you came to your senses and decided to turn yourself in."

"Who are your friends, there, Dreadwing?" One of them asked.

"They're not my friends." Dreadwing said quickly.

The shadows got closer, revealing their colors and shapes. Their names were Tarn, Vos, Tesarus, Kaon, and Helex. Tarn was a purple and white Decepticon that turned into a tank, and it showed; his boots were wide and flat, and his shoulders were made completely out of folded-up tank treads. His face really had been altered to look like the Decepticon logo. He had an arm-cannon on his right arm that was like two cannons stacked on top of each other and pointed antennae behind his head, from his back. Possible sword hilts, perhaps?

Kaon was more meek and normal looking, a violet and cream purple with bumps on his helmet, and a mostly normal face. There was fan in his chest, and cylinders generating electricity on his shoulders.

Vos was even smaller than Kaon, but no less creepy for it. His colors were black and silver, and he was covered in studded belts. He had normal optics (as far Decepticon optics can be "normal") and a face plate. He looked almost small enough for the other DJD to . . . wield.

Tesarus was bulky, olive green, and had treads in his shoulders and legs. His chest had a whirling pit of blades in, like a garbage disposer, and long tentacles that ended in claws were mounted on his chest. His mouth was normal, but his eyes were covered with a huge red "X".

Helex was less eccentric, with a normal face. Green, lavender, white, and olive green. He had a glass chamber in his chest, and two pairs of arms. His normal pair and a smaller pair around his waist, and vents spread through his upper body.

"Come on!" Rainbow Dash shouted, running forward. Twilight used her magic to pull her back.

"Rainbow Dash!" Twilight scolded. "Don't just charge into the fight like that!"

Rainbow Dash charged towards them the DJD again, but Vos leaped into the air and transformed, revealing his alternate mode of being a large, black sniper Cybertronic rifle with a purple glowing sight. Tarn grabbed Vos' handle and pulled Vos' trigger, firing at the ledge just in front of Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash barely stepped back in time, a crater forming from the blast.

"Stay out of this, whoever you are!" Tarn shouted, Vos' barrel smoking his hand. "This is strictly a Decepticon matter!"

"My name is Rainbow Dash, and I'm gonna -"

Twilight ran up to Rainbow Dash and put a hoof on Dash's shoulder. "Rainbow Dash, maybe it's for the best if we don't interfere."

"But . . . but . . ." Dash stuttered.

"You saw what that gun did to the ledge." Twilight said, gesturing to the crater.

While they talked, Dreadwing jumped off the ledge to face off against his foes. In seconds, he was on them. He charged Tarn and yanked Vos from Tarn's hand, then blasted Tarn with it. Tarn staggered back and clutched his chest, which gave off smoke, but seemed unharmed.

"Hahahaha!" Tarn laughed joyously. "Good to see these Ponies haven't robbed you of your warrior spirit!"

Dreadwing threw Vos down, then kicked the poor gun-bot aside. Vos exclaimed something in Cybertronian.

Dreadwing drew his sword and ran at Tarn with it raised. A blade of black metal formed from underneath Tarn's cannon-barrel. Dreadwing brought his sword to bear on Tarn, but Tarn raised his arm-blade and blocked it. Dreadwing removed his sword, then kicked Tarn in the stomach, pushing him back. Tesarus jumped into the fray, reaching for Dreadwing with his tentacles. Dreadwing grabbed the claws before they grabbed him, then used his leverage to toss Tesarus aside.

Tarn transformed into his autonomous mode, adjusted himself, then converted back into a rifle. He was now in position to blast Dreadwing, which he did. The blast had more noticeably effect on Dreadwing as it did on Tarn, as it now Dreadwing's chest had a hole in it, and his cockpit had shattered.

Despite the violence going on, it didn't seem like raging Decepticons were turning on Dreadwing for going into the care of organics. It didn't seem like Tarn was trying to punish Dreadwing for abandoning the cause. It seemed more like a bunch of former college frat-boys reuniting and roughhousing for old times' sake. Dreadwing and Tarn were enjoying themselves as they fought viciously into each other.

"Is . . . is he smiling!?" Rarity shrieked.

"Looks like it." Smokescreen replied, nonplussed.

"Yeah . . ." Rainbow Dash answered, with growing uncertainty that what she was doing was right. "Yeah, he . . . he looks pretty happy."

Indeed, Dreadwing was smiling and laughing. When Tesarus grabbed Dreadwing's wing and ripped it off, and Helex followed up by slugging Dreadwing, Dreadwing grinned as he staggered for ground. Dreadwing turned and responded to Helex in kind, but Tesarus got behind Dreadwing and performed a fireman's lift before tossing Dreadwing to the ground. Dreadwing rolled over, whipping out a pistol and nicking Tesarus' shoulders. Tesarus, more amused than anything, stomped on Dreadwing and kicked him over. Dreadwing pushed himself up, bringing his sword up and smashing Tesarus with it.

"Come on." Twilight coaxed Rainbow Dash. "Let's go."

Rainbow Dash looked at the ground, then back up at the fighting Decepticons. "No, no. I . . . want to see this to the end."

Dreadwing was able to fend off Tesarus, but before he could do anything else, Tarn came up behind him and literally stabbed Dreadwing in the back. Tarn removed his blade, and Dreadwing fell to his knees. Tarn walked around to Dreadwing's front.

"Hrm." Dreadwing noted. "Well done."

"You're not too bad yourself, Dreadwing." Tarn said. "A shame you went to live with organics. But as I said, I like that you came to your senses and contacted us instead of us having to hunt you down. Now . . ."

Tarn raised his cannon at the weakened Dreadwing. "Do you, Dreadwing of the Decepticon Seekers, have any last words before I, Tarn of the Decepticon Justice Division, execute you?"

Dreadwing looked up, weakly raising his arm to clutch at Tarn's barrel in one last act of defiance. Then he made a fist with his other hand and pumped into the air.

"Decepticons Forever."

Tarn blinked, saddened by the loss of such a proud, loyal Decepticon. "Decepticons Forever."

"Let's go." Rainbow Dash told her friends, realizing there was no point in them trying to do anything.

Tarn fired his cannon point-blank, exploding Dreadwing's chest. Dreadwing's sparking corpse fell to the ground. Tarn and the others turned around and left behind the body of the one of the Decepticons' most honorable warriors, as he joined ranks of his brothers that had fallen before.

A Space Bridge opened up, and two Vehicons stepped out to collect Dreadwing's remains. The Ponies and Smokescreen went through the Space Bridge, which led to Cybertron, where a vehicle for Dreadwing's body had been set up.

The Vehicons placed Dreadwing's body on the trolley, then tossed wires, Dreadwing's wing, and any other bits the DJD tore off Dreadwing's body in the scuffle.

"He looks happy." Rainbow Dash said on Dreadwing's body. She sighed, huffed, then trotted into another directions.

"Excuse me!" Twilight said, running after the Vehicons started wheeling the trolley away. "Are you going to the funeral today?"

"Yeah." The Vehicon answered. "Gonna put Dreadwing's body in with the rest of them. They'll all be smelted down for scrap to build new protoforms."

"I have an invitation to the funeral." Twilight explained. "Can I join you?"

"Eh, don't see why not."

"Thank you." Twilight turned to her friends as the Vehicons continued wheeling. "This may sound strange, girls, but . . . please don't join me. It's . . . nothing personal. I'd just rather do this alone."

Fluttershy nodded. "We understand, Twilight."

"Thank you."

Twilight ran off after the Vehicons.


Elsewhere, Rainbow Dash flew up and landed on a random Cybertronian-sized crate, sitting cross-legged on its edge while she sulked and thought about things.

"Hey." A deep voice caught Rainbow Dash's attention. She turned to see Blackout approaching her.

"Hey." Dash threw back at him, not interested.

"Hello." Blackout greeted her, putting his claw on the crate. "May I join you?"

"Sure."

Blackout climbed up on the crate and sat down next to her. "Word travels fast. I . . . heard about Dreadwing, and . . . your opposition to his choices."

"Yeah?" Dash raised an eyebrow.

Blackout raised his claw to comfort Rainbow Dash, before he thought about not having the same bond with her as she did with the Autobots, so he didn't.

"What do you want?" Dash snapped.

"I just wanted to let you know . . ." Blackout said. "That while it may not make much sense to you, to Decepticons, Dreadwing did the right thing."

Dash rolled her eyes. "I've heard that before."

"Well, I just thought I'd mention it." Blackout said. "I understand you might be confused by . . . these Decepticon rites of ours. Optimus Prime wants peace, does he not? And does not that involve us learning to tolerate each other's cultural differences?"

Rainbow Dash made a confused face, looking up at Blackout. "You know what?" Dash smiled subtly and nodded her head. "You're right, Blackout. I hadn't thought about it like that. Thanks." Rainbow Dash flapped her wings, lifting off, and she flew away.

Of course, what she didn't know was that just a ploy by Blackout to divert suspicion from him as he attempted to subvert that very peace.

Blackout jumped down from the crate, then walked back the way he came. He came across a door with a keypad next to it. He punched a code into the keypad. The door received the code and slid into the wall. Blackout went inside, where Dropshot, the Cutie Mark Crusaders, and a number of terminals were waiting for him.

"Ah, Blackout!" Dropshot said, wheeling around his chair. "Was wondering where you went."

"Just removing potential unwanted attention." Blackout answered. He looked down at the Cutie Mark Crusaders. "I understand your plan, Dropshot, however half-baked it may be . . ." Blackout put his claw to his chin. "But I still don't understand how you got these fillies under your control."

"Ah, easy." Dropshot got down from his chair and went to the CMC, lifting their manes. "Cerebro-shells on their back."

Blackout sputtered. "Cerebro-shells!?" Cerebro-shells had been a project during early days of the war, which Blackout had only heard about. The idea was that could be implanted into a target's neck or head, and it would tap into their nervous system and give the Decepticon operator complete control over the victim. "We abandoned those because we could never make them work!"

"No, but the people I work for . . . are not Decepticons." Dropshot said. He got back on his chair and typed something into the terminal. "Now, you remember your instructions, little fillies?"

The Cutie Mark Crusaders nodded, the cerebro-shells giving Dropshot direct, total control over their minds and bodies, by essentially "hacking" their brains like it was a computer program.

"And Shockwave will be at the funeral." Dropshot said, looking at Blackout with a sly expression.

"I'm going, I'm going." Blackout said. He beckoned the Crusaders to follow them. "Come along, little ones." The Cutie Mark Crusaders followed Blackout out the door like a flock of sheep, carrying vials full of a pink, bubbling liquid on their backs. Blackout reached down and took one vial off. He held it in his claw, contemplative.


Twilight Sparkle attended the funeral with other Decepticons, including Blackout, Barricade, Heavy Load, Thundercracker, Fractyl, and the Combaticons, an elite five-man Decepticon team that had a remarkably high success rate. As well as numerous other Vehicons. It was awkward, as she was a tiny, little pony in a crowd of towering Decepticons equipped with cannons and guns and things.

The funeral was not like a human funeral. Rather than bury the dead in a pit, all their bodies were loaded up on a large industrial device. The device looked like a block, mounted on four pillars. There was a see-through container on its underside, with a metal spout attached. A series of Cybertronian-sized molds were set on a treadmill underneath it. Thundercracker had explained to Twilight that the bodies would be loaded up, then the device would be activated, lighting a fire that would melt the bodies. The resulting scrap and metal goop would be poured into the molds from the spout, which would be the basis of a protoform.

Of course, the protoform was useless without a means to produce a Spark, Twilight thought to herself. The Spark was the life force of a Cybertronian. Their consciousness and self. The thing that made them different than piloted robot a Pony or Human could build in their garage.

The fire on top of the device lit up, exposing the bodies to temperatures high enough to melt a Cybertronian. Twilight pursed her lips, noting famous Decepticon warriors – ones she had fought on Earth and Equestria – added into the pile of corpses. Airachnid, Knock Out, Breakdown, and a bunch of Vehicons. And Dreadwing, too.

"Hey . . ." Twilight realized. "Where's Megatron's body? Shouldn't he be here?"

"He should." Barricade grumpily replied. "He absolutely should, but Optimus wouldn't give us his body. Said it was too valuable a bargaining chip."

"What?!" Twilight sputtered. That didn't make any sense. Optimus was big on respect and due to the dead, so he should have forked over Megatron's body for a funeral. Sure, if the Decepticons said they wanted to bring him back, Twilight could understand Optimus hesitating then, but - . . . wait. Maybe that was it. Maybe Optimus didn't trust the Decepticons to not try resurrecting Megatron if he gave them Megatron's body. But Optimus himself was always talking about all the trust they needed if they wanted to make the peace last . . .

The Combaticons stepped around the crowd and stood up, raising their weapons. They fired three shots in into the air, making a testament to their fallen comrades.

Twilight watched as the bodies' began to lose their shape and form, turning into scrap that filled the glass chamber, before the spout dispersed the molten metal into the molds. When the mold filled up, the spout stopped, and the tread moved, bringing an empty mold up and throwing the filled mold off. Two Vehicons went over and picked up the soon-to-be protoform, carrying it off.

Twilight began to tear up. Heavy Load was surprised by this.

"What are you crying for, Sparkle?"

"It's . . . it's beautiful." Twilight answered, to everyone's confusion. "I- I've read a lot about human and Pony religion, and in a lot them, there are myths about reincarnation . . . about souls of the dead being used to make souls of newborn foals . . . and you . . . this!" Twilight gestured to the foundry smelting bodies. "And you! You don't believe in that, you live it, using the material from the dead to make bodies for Cybertronians yet to be born!"

"Oh." Fractyl said quietly. He smiled thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose if you look at that way, it could be beautiful, yes!"

Heavy Load smack Fractyl with his cement-mixer arm. "Shut up, Fractyl."

"Both of you be silent!" Shockwave shouted. "That goes for you too, Twilight Sparkle! You may chat as much as you wish when the funeral is over!"

Twilight and Heavy Load nodded respectfully, but Twilight shot Heavy Load an angry glare. Fractyl rubbed his arm where Heavy Load had hit him.

After all the bodies had been smelted, the molds filled and carried off, the Decepticons gave one last salute, which Twilight awkwardly fumbled to replicate when she realized it everyone was doing it. After which, Shockwave declared the funeral dismissed.

As the Decepticons made their way out from the funeral's area, Twilight attempted to talk to Fractyl.

"Fractyl? Fractyl!"

"Hmm? Oh, hello again, Twilight . . ." Fractyl said as she ran up to his feet. He seemed depressed that she was even talking to him, which upset Twilight greatly. She – it sounded insane, but she could sense a kinship with Fractyl. She could tell that he was like her when she was young; a socially awkward nerd who preferred to avoid interaction.

"I have a question, Fractyl."

"Shoot."

"Why do you let Heavy Load bully you?" Twilight tilted her head in concern. Fractyl stared at her like she was a crazy loon he was in danger if he was too near her.

"I . . . I don't know." Fractyl said. "He's . . . he's been Thundercracker's student longer than I have, so I just assumed . . ."

Twilight gulped, really hoping she wasn't about to stumble on another "cultural difference", where Decepticon undergrads beat on each other like they were Sith apprentices.

"That's not okay, Fractyl!" Twilight shouted. "You're not supposed to let him bully you! You have rights!"

"Really? Gosh, I-I never thought about that way . . ." Fractyl put a finger to his chin.

"Fractyl!" Heavy Load called, grabbing Fractyl's arm and pulling him away. "Come on. We need to go. Thundercracker will make us rewrite one of our old papers if we keep him waiting."

Heavy Load dragged Fractyl along, but Fractyl looked over his shoulder at Twilight. After a moment, Fractyl yanked his arm out of Heavy Load's grasp. Heavy Load seemed confused, but brushed it off. Fractyl glared at him angrily the rest of the way.

Twilight smiled, certain she had ignited a spark of self-worth in the unlucky Decepticon. She turned at the sound of her name.

"Twilight! Twilight!" The Cutie Mark Crusaders appeared, running towards Twilight a drink tray on Apple Bloom's back.

"Girls?" Twilight asked. "What are you doing here?"

"We heard about y'all going to tha' funeral . . ." Apple Bloom said.

"So we thought you could use a pick-me-up!" Scootaloo picked up the glass from Apple Bloom's back and presented to Twilight.

"How do you know about the funeral!?" Twilight inquired, her mind disregarding the drink.

"A little birdie told us?" Scootaloo shyly suggested.

"Actually, it was more like a little - " Sweetie Belle put a hoof on Apple Bloom's mouth.

Twilight raised an eyebrow. "Okay. . . " Twilight took the drink and eyed it cautiously. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had something of a reputation of being poor cooks and thoughtless experimenters, so she had reason to be wary.

"It's fine!" Scootaloo assured her.

"Yeah, totally fine!" Sweetie Belle added.

"Totally does not contain love potion, love poison, or any kind of love drink, or poison, or potion in it!" Apple Bloom cheered, apparently aware of Twilight's concern. "We learned our lesson last time!"

"Last time" referring to when the Cutie Mark Crusaders made a well-meaning, but ill-advised attempt to hook their school teacher up with Apple Bloom's big brother. It didn't go over so well.

"All right . . ." Twilight said. "I trust you on this one. But if anything happens, anything at all, and I will haul you all to your big sisters and have you spanked, understand?"

"Absolutely!" Scootaloo said.

"Cutie Mark Crusader's honor." Sweetie Belle added.

With her last trace of reluctance fading away, Twilight took a sip of the drink.

"Say, I do suddenly feel much happier! What's in this stuff?"

Twilight looked to the fillies, but they had somehow disappeared in the time it took her to take a sip.

"Hmm. Oh well." Twilight decided she may as well finish the drink, so she did.

Elsewhere in the roving crowd of departing Decepticons, Blackout rushed to catch the attention of Shockwave.

"Shockwave? Lord Shockwave?"

"Yes?" Shockwave asked irritatedly. He had better things to be attending.

"I'd like you to try this drink of mine." Blackout said, holding a vial full of pink liquid. "I've been thinking about getting into the bartender business. What do you think?"

"Ugh, very well." Shockwave groaned. He took the glass into his claw, and a panel popped open on his arm, like the gas tank of a car. Shockwave poured the pink liquid into the socket, then tossed the vial aside, where an inattentive Vehicon crushed the glass under its feet. This socket was how Shockwave drank Energon drinks, given that he had no mouth.

"Hmm . . ." Shockwave's optic swiveled at the taste.

"Well?" Blackout asked, tapping his claws anxiously.

"Stick to fighting, Blackout." Shockwave advised him, turning to leave. But just as Shockwave was about to take his next step forward, he turned back around. Blackout had disappeared, but that wasn't a concern to him. No, his attention was suddenly very focused on their unexpected guest, Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight Sparkle was also putting a lot of attention on Shockwave, as she was somehow able to pick him out from the crowd of Vehicons. She trotted towards him and tapped him on the foot to alert him to her presence.

"Hello, Twilight Sparkle." Shockwave said, sounding much warmer than his monotonous voice usually let him be. "W-what can I do for you?"

"Oh, nothing . . ." Twilight said idly. "You know, I just thought I'd talk to you . . ."

Shockwave nervously adjusted his foot.

"Do you . . . want to visit my lab?" Shockwave asked. "Maybe . . . do some research on old Cybertronian projects?"

"I would like that."

Meanwhile, Blackout sneaked back into the private room where Dropshot was hiding out, where the enslaved Cutie Mark Crusaders were standing blankly, awaiting orders.

"Now . . ." Blackout said, the door closing behind him. "I understand your plan, Dropshot . . ."

"Yeah?"

"Use the Cutie Mark Crusaders and myself to give love potions to Twilight and Shockwave . . ."

"Uh-huh . . ."

"Twilight and Shockwave attempted to get 'married", some organic ritual I've never heard of." Blackout concluded. "And this will . . . somehow disrupt the peace talks and cross-alien legislature because?"

"Because, my bulky friend," Dropshot replied with a smirk, "Twilight Sparkle and Shockwave are some of the most powerful, influential figures in their hierarchy. With an Equestrian love potion altering both of their minds, they'll go heads-over-heels for each other. With the effects of the love potion, they'll be so consumed with each other they'll neglect their duties. And that's just getting the ball rolling. From there, my employers and I will continue to rock the peace, and cause total chaos on all three planets."

"And . . ." Blackout drawled. "This will . . . somehow bring about Megatron's vision?"

"Don't you worry about a thing, friend." Dropshot assured him.

"We're still not friends."


Shockwave's Tower was the base of the New Decepticons. Where operations were planned, where projects were scheduled, and where Shockwave penciled in his meetings with the other race leaders. It was located in the ruins of Kaon, the Decepticon capitol city. The black and grey tower itself was massive, reaching high, high up into the atmosphere. Four bridges extended from it an X shape, connecting to smaller towers housing other facilities. The top of the tower was dressed with angled pillars and a terrace, looking somewhat like a bony crown.

In one of the higher floors of the main tower, Barricade angrily walked through the hall. The hall was circular, with glass windows forming its outer wall. The floors were separated into even square panels.

"Shockwave!" Barricade shouted, coming along a triangular door. He banged his fist on it. "Shockwave, get out here!"

No one knew what was on the other side of the room. Shockwave had explicitly forbidden anyone from looking. The other Decepticons had theories. Shockwave was a mad scientist, a tinkerer, so there was no doubt it was something science related. But what? What!?

And today, to add insult to injury, Shockwave had invited Twilight Sparkle today. Twilight Sparkle, an Equestrian. An organic! What, did Shockwave suddenly just trust a random Pony with his secrets more than he did his Decepticons? Barricade intended to give Shockwave a piece of his mind about it.

"Shockwave! Shockwave, can you hear me!?" Barricade continued banging on the door, but he got no response. He sighed, then pressed the side of his head up against the door.

"Wha'cha doing?" A voice asked.

"Ssh!" Barricade hissed. "I'm trying to listen on Shockwave's and Twilight's conversation."

He heard giggling. Giggling! Shockwave didn't giggle. He barely so much as made a motion more expressive than 'staring' and 'not staring', but they were definitely two voices giggling in there.

"Oh, hey, remember Bruticus?" Twilight's voice asked.

"Of course I do!" Shockwave said.

"We should make one of them do that!"

Make one of what do what!? Barricade pondered. Obviously, they were talking about turning something into a gestalt – a combined form of Cybertronians, were five or more merged into one, titanic gestalt form, hence the name. Another of several ethically questionable Decepticon war projects. Strengths for a gestalt including strength, firepower, endurance, and near-invulnerability. Drawbacks included stupidity, single-mindedness, and an inability to tell friend from foe. As such, the Decepticons only used them when they were in dire straights. (Though being Decepticons, their definition of "dire straits" was a bit loose)

Barricade huffed and turned his head, only to be greeted to another unwelcome sight. An Aerialbot, a red and glue Autobot generic with wings folded on its back, and a visor forming its face.

"It's bad enough I have to put with Shockwave inviting Twilight into areas we're not allowed, but now I have to deal with Autobots roaming the base unchecked, too?" Barricade complained, walking past the Autobot.

The Aerialbot let him get a few steps before turning around and speaking. "Aren't you going to tell Shockwave your problem?"

Barricade stopped dead.

"That's none of your business, Autobot."

"Oh, but you were banging on that door ferociously when I came in!" The Aerialbot continued, gesturing towards it. "Don't you want to know what's behind it? What secrets Shockwave is keeping from you? From all the Decepticons?"

"Yeah . . ." Barricade agreed. "Yeah . . . yeah!" Barricade turned around and marched right back towards the door. "I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind if it's the last thing I do!"

It was quite nearly the last thing Barricade did. As soon as Barricade was near, the Aerialbot pushed his hand against the wall, triggering an explosion. Barricade was blasted backwards, and for a minute, all he could see and hear was rampaging fire and the sound of shattering glass. The explosion took out most of the surrounding area, obliterating that section of the hallway.

Barricade was thrown backwards into another section, covered in scorch marks. He was singed, and the explosion had torn off his right leg beneath the knee.

"Frell!" Barricade sworn, disoriented but conscious. He attempted to get up and assess what the Pony Hell just happened, but seeing his torn-off leg, reasoned he wasn't going to stand anytime soon.

Looking at the billowing smoke from the now-destroyed section of the hallway, Barricade realized he should thankful his leg was the only thing the explosion blew off.

Barricade activated his built-in comm. "Barricade here. Explosion in the hallway. Request immediate assist. Oohgh . . ." His request put into the communication channels, Barricade let himself fall backwards. He groaned, clutching at his torn leg, watching the embers around him burn.