A.N./Watched RWBY: Ice Queendom. Wrote my thoughts on it in the AN at the end of the chapter.

I've had to do a little research on Transformers lore to write parts of this story, mostly to fill in the gaps, and holy hell is it both fascinating and confusing as hell.

Chapter 4: Amongst the Stars

"You're taking this information remarkably well."

He didn't respond, only drummed cybernetic fingers on the surface of his desk. The man across from him, Ozpin, was someone he'd met a few times when preparing for his promotion. He seemed like a good man, if a little eccentric, but he had no idea that his fellow headmaster was hiding such secrets. Maidens, magic, relics, Salem?! It was borderline madness! Even when he compared it to aliens it was hard to believe. Except aliens were nothing compared to learning about the gods from Winter's report.

"General?"

He glanced over at his fellow headmaster. "Apologies, this is a lot to process."

Ozpin chuckled. "I admit, you're taking this better than the other headmasters have."

"Yes, well. I am used to big secrets." Wasn't that a massive understatement.

"Nothing too dangerous I hope?"

"Just standard military secrets. Various projects and operations." He lied smoothly. Just as Ozpin had secrets he clearly wasn't sharing in spite of all that he has already shared, he too had secrets he was unwilling to share.

Ozpin narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. "I look forward to your cooperation. Atlas has always been one of the pillars holding Remnant up."

"Of course." The flattery flowed off of him like water off a glacier. "Atlas strives for unity and peace between the Kingdoms."

"Your ever increasing militarism suggests otherwise."

"That is merely a consequence of our ever advancing technology and drive to finally destroy the Grimm."

"Some don't see it that way, and are growing concerned." His eyes looked over Ozpin curiously. What is this? When did this recruitment turn into a prodding of ideology?

"Their concern is misplaced." He stated confidently. "The Atlesean military has made no aggressive moves towards the other Kingdoms, nor does it ever intend to. All we have done is begin the extermination of Grimm on our land."

"Some fear those efforts are merely a measure to provide more room for your military industry to grow, and subsequently weaken huntsmen academies by tricking other kingdoms into pushing more funds into military spending; despite the fact that their militaries will never match yours."

He stared at Ozpin's serious visage with the most dumbfounded expression he has ever worn. The man's words bordered on pure conspiracy insanity! "That's lunacy! Even if it were Atlas's goal, what would we hope to possibly accomplish from it? World domination? Even if we were to try and succeed, we simply wouldn't be able to hold the territory. Sure, we might gain control of the main cities, but it'd turn the world against us!"

The spectacled headmaster eyed him critically, scrutinizing his every feature for some form of deception. "I agree. Those who believe such conspiracies are… overly fearful."

"Then why grill me over it?"

"Merely words meant to gain a better grasp of your character."

"Yes, well… I have other duties to attend to. A meeting with particularly annoying coworkers specifically. I'll keep in touch over our shared secrets."

Ozpin stood. "Please do."

He waved the man off in silent goodbye, and spun around to observe Atlas through his office window.

Nothing has changed. The threats and obstacles remain the same as before, but he now possessed greater intel on his enemy than he once had.

He'll need to request even more from Backblast. Far more, now that he knows his current foe is not a mindless horde, but instead is an intelligent and malicious force actively working against him.

Atlas will be victorious over the Grimm, he'd be sure of it.

Or he'd die in the effort.

"Backblast?"

He paused in his typing. With a slight turn of his head he regarded Winter as she silently stood on the catwalk. A moment later he fully turned from his terminal to face her. "Yes?"

"The general has requested you take a look at our encryption algorithms, as well as provide several new designs."

He raised a curious brow, but turned back to his terminal. "Encryption was more Soundwaves specialty, but I can provide you basic Decepticon ciphers. It should be impossible for anyone on Remnant, aside from me, to crack. However, I must ask. Why?"

"General Ironwood has deemed our current cybersecurity measures to be insufficient to protect against future threats."

"I gathered as much." He droned sarcastically. "I had been inquiring as to why he suddenly thinks his current measures are insufficient."

"He deemed that information to be currently outside of my need to know."

"Hmm." He's familiar with such methods. Oftentimes Decepticon soldiers wouldn't have any information on their missions outside of "go here and do this". So, he was able to sympathize with her not knowing her superiors' reasoning.

"This cipher should prove sufficient for his needs." He stepped aside from his terminal so she could see the cipher currently displayed on its purple screen.

Winter squinted at the cybertronian glyphs rapidly making their way across the purple surface. "I… I have no idea what I'm looking at."

"It's Cybertronian." He revealed. "My people's language has no basis for reference on your world, and should provide complete protection against any would-be hackers for decades to come."

She hummed thoughtfully. "I believe you, but aren't you underestimating the capabilities of Remnant hackers?"

His head shook slightly in the negative. "Even if they could translate my language, they would then still have to decipher the code it's worded in."

"Impressive."

"Not really."

She rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Yes yes. Hyper advanced alien, however shall we primitives compare?"

"Wait a million years or so. I'm certain you little fleshlings will make some progress." He said with no small amount of snark.

She laughed lightly. "Funny."

He chuckled lowly. "You said he required other designs?"

A nod. "Yes. He compiled a list of several items he wants you to provide replacement designs for."

She took out her scroll, what a strangely named device, and inserted it into a slot that directly connected to his terminal. Immediately, a lengthy list of items ranging from simple rifles and machine guns all the way towards a competitor design to something called the "paladin". Well over a dozen designs in total. Far more than any amount Ironwood has requested at one time before.

He furrowed his brows. "Has something happened?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Out there. In the world beyond this lab. Has something happened to trigger these requests?"

Winter immediately went to respond in the negative, but held back and adorned a thoughtful expression. "I do not think anything has drastically changed, but the White Fang has become violent as of late."

"The protesters?"

She nodded. "Yes, perhaps General Ironwood is worried that it might escalate out of control?"

"I see…" It did sound plausible, he knew the General had been a veteran of the Faunus War, but something about it just didn't quite feel right. "I shall create some designs for him, but I cannot help but wonder what is going on outside of this lab."

"You mean in the world at large?"

He tilted his head, mulling over her question. "I am… feeling a desire to explore your world. Or at least just your home Kingdom."

"That would be… difficult." An amused huff escaped him. Difficult would be understating the idea greatly, but perhaps…

His mind wandered to Dr. Polendina and Penny. Penny was almost indistinguishable from a normal human without an in-depth investigation, and Peitro built her. Alas, before he could continue his train of thought, Winter provided a solution.

"We could probably have you fly around with some Shrike escorts under the guise of testing a new aircraft."

He hummed slightly. "That could provide me with a nice change of scenery, but it's not exactly an ideal solution."

She shrugged. "It wouldn't hurt to at least try it."

"I suppose not." He conceded.

Winter smiled. "Well, that concludes my business here for today. I'll submit a request for your "test flight" to General Ironwood, and when we next talk I'll be asking you more about your people's history."

"I look forward to it, Winter."

"This is the Javelin smart howitzer, the towed version, it has an integrated coordinate computing system making this weapon capable of slinging two hundred fifty five millimeter shells twenty kilometers with pinpoint accuracy, and it's one of the key players in Atlas's recent victories." Sarge explained. "It's going to continue to be a staple of the Atlesean army for the foreseeable future, but that doesn't mean you gagglefuck idiots can get complacent! So today we'll be training in concert with the third armored battalion and the twenty second artillery company."

Groans went around the platoon in no small amount, him included, which prompted Sarge to start collectively chewing them out. "Sarge?"

"Yes, private?"

"Why is it called the Javelin?"

Sarge gave him the most hatred filled contemptful glare he possibly could. "Because Private Grif, it looks like a javelin stuck in the ground."

"Looks more like a tree to me. Like a tilted pine that had all of its branches ripped off." Sarge looked at him, at the artillery, then back to him.

"Private, that is the dumbest thing I have ever heard. Now shut up before I beat you over the head with my shotgun."

He bit back a witty retort and remained silent as Sarge continued to explain the nuances of the new equipment.

"Nice going numb nuts."

He glanced to his left and scowled. "Shut up Richard."

"At least I didn't piss off the Sarge, Dexter."

"Kiss ass."

"THANK YOU BOTH FOR VOLUNTEERING!" Both he and his friend startled at Sarge suddenly screaming in their faces. "FRONT AND CENTER!"

Without hesitation the two stepped forward, the rest of the squad snickering at them the whole while, and winced when Sarge slapped their helmets. "Now, if you two idiots are done gossiping like girlies we can begin the first part of the exercise."

Sarge lifted up what looked like a large scroll of some form and pressed a button. Immediately, roughly forty humanoid robots unfolded and did an about face. They were gray in color, humanoid in shape, and their head consisted of an odd looking smooth faceplate that glowed red and a strange almost visor-like metal piece on the top. "These are the new Atlesian Knight model number one hundred thirty. Aka, the AK-130. They are General Ironwood's solution to Atlas's manpower problem. Each soldier will have command over five of these semi autonomous killing machines in the heat of battle; granting you numbskulls an incredible boost in firepower. Observe."

Sarge pressed a button on his scroll thing and the Knight's arms transformed from hands into rotary light machine guns. Richard let out a quiet whistle, and he had to admit that they were impressive.

"Now you may be wondering how to give them orders, but because of our eggheads that sit in labs all day; we can simply speak and they will listen. Observe."

Sarge cleared his throat. "Knight units! Designated target at bearing three three one and open fire!"

The "visors" of all forty knights slammed down, giving them a much more sinister appearance, and turned in sinc to open fire on a pile of sandbags. The shitstorm of bullets completely shredded the target till little more than scraps remained. "Holy crap!"

"Holy crap is right, private. These new weapons are part of General Ironwood's new doctrine called "combined arms" where infantry, vehicles, and aircraft will work in concert with each other to perfectly fulfill each role in a battle." Sarge paused. "Or something like that."

"So this is a training exercise to implement these 'bots, sir?"

"Correctamundo private." Sarge shoved the scroll thing into his orange highlighted breastplate, and he staggered back from the force of the blow. He grabbed the scroll thing- know what? He's just gonna call this thing a tablet because it's too much mental effort to just keep calling it a "scroll thing". He turned it around and hesitantly tapped the button labeled: "command register", and all knights instantly turned to face him. "Uhhh… take cover?"

The robots immediately crouched.

…

…

…

"Uh, sir?"

"They still have some kinks to work out." Sarge admitted. "But the firepower can't be brushed off."

He looked down at the tablet, thinking of all the ways he could use these guys to kill Grimm. "Fan out and surround the target at bearing three five seven."

They obeyed his orders perfectly. "Open fire."

The target was shredded in moments by the combined fire, and he grinned.

Maybe these guys aren't so bad.

She zipped up the incredibly snug white G-suit, shifting slightly to make sure it fit right, slung the black flight vest over her torso, slammed her locker shut and grabbed her flight helmet off the nearby bench. "Alright. You've got this, Winter."

She left the locker room and strutted out of the building onto the cold tarmac of the runway. It was lightly snowing out, a common sight on the continent, and the breeze chilled her to the bone, but she had long since grown used to such discomfort.

A loud screech of metal grinding drew her attention to her left.

Large hangar doors, unmoving for almost a decade, once more opened the interior to the world beyond. A small cart with strobing orange lights slowly emerged from the hangar, towing the alternate form of Backblast behind it. It's actually the first time she's seen him in his "jet" form. Smooth gray paneling accentuated the sharp edges and bulbous cockpit, giving the craft a predatory look. Though it still looked incredibly foreign, and dare she say alien.

She strolled up to him as he came to a stop and a flight crewman brought a ladder up next to BB's cockpit. "Ma'am?"

She paused and looked at the service crewman. "Is something the matter, corporal?"

He stiffened. "N-no ma'am! I was just surprised is all. I had no idea you were a pilot. Is that why you're always in the hangar with this thing?"

She narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. "That's classified."

"Of course! Sorry ma'am!"

She disregarded him, climbed into Backblast's cockpit, and slapped her pilot helmet on. She idly noted hearing the ladder being pulled away, but paid more attention to BB's cockpit. It was perfectly sized for an average human being to fit in, which was odd considering Backblast had this form since before he arrived on Remnant. Of course she didn't voice these thoughts until the canopy was firmly closed around her. "How nice, you seem to have accommodated us in your disguise."

An electronic snort echoed in the enclosed cockpit, and one of the displays showed that face-like emblem of Backblasts'. "The proportions your species possesses are not unique to Remnant in the cosmos."

Hmm that made some sense she supposed, the galaxy is a big place if what she's learned from BB is any indication. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask, but what other species have you encountered among the stars?"

Backblast remained silent. "Backblast?"

"Sorry, it's just been a long time." He explained somewhat hurriedly. "Was just trying to remember them all."

"Were there many?"

"Mostly just animals, beasts large and small." He paused. "But there were a few more intelligent beings out in the cosmos."

"And I presume this disguise of yours belonged to one of them?"

"Indeed." Another pause. "They were both more advanced and more primitive than Remnant at the same time. Still small and weak compared to any Cybertronian, but crafty and dangerous if underestimated."

"They sound… interesting."

Backblast made a noise she couldn't decipher. "I hated them."

"What, why?"

"That doesn't matter right now. What matters is that you put on your oxygen mask, we're about to take off."

Blinking in surprise she looked up and saw her second escort Shrike finish taking off. She quickly grabbed the oxygen mask that was dangling from her helmet and firmly secured it to her mouth. Double checking the clasp on the side of her helmet, she was satisfied to find it fully closed.

It was then that Backblast decided to take off. She went from a near standstill to being shoved back into the seat in an instant. The base rushed by as Backblast went from zero to really fucking fast in an instant, and she marveled at the feeling of experiencing high speed flight for the first time. Suddenly, Backblast pulled back, so to speak, on the stick and went vertical, rapidly climbing in the sky. Her chest suddenly refused her commands to breathe as the force of the acceleration pressed her back into the seat. As soon as it began it ended, and she could breathe again.

She greedily gulped in air as her radio crackled. "Holy! Uhh… Dagger-1 this is your escort Blizzard-1, my wingman on your other side is Blizzard-2. That's quite the craft you're flying ma'am."

As soon as she managed to get her breathing under control she scowled at the display showing Backblast's emblem and clicked on her radio. "It's the future of our military. Now, follow my lead."

"Yes ma'am."

She leaned back into the seat and relaxed while Backblast took the reins, so to speak. "Why does your demeanor change when you're not speaking to me?"

A harsh sigh escaped her. "Most on the base fear me because I have the General's ear, and because of my name. So, I don't really bother with being nice."

"Your name?"

Her head bobbed in a nod. "My father is the richest man on the planet. It makes the prospect of approaching me a little intimidating."

"I see… you are casual with me because I am not intimidated by you?"

"Correct." They fell into a blissful silence after that, observing the kingdom as they flew over it at high speeds.

"So, what do you think of Atlas so far?"

"It's very white and cold." He paused. "But it is also pretty."

"You find it pretty?"

"Yes. Cybertron and our colonies were entirely made of metal. So worlds like Remnant are considered somewhat exotic in appearance."

"It's hard to imagine a world made entirely of metal."

Backblast let out an electronic amused huff. "For one born on an organic world like this one; much of our civilization would be hard to imagine, but for me it is this world and others like it that is strange and bizarre."

She shook her head, not fully able to grasp what he meant. "Where were we in our talks?"

"We had just reached the age of stagnation."

Her head tilted in confusion. "Age of stagnation? Sounds self explanatory."

"It's a misnomer. It would be more accurate to call it the age of decline." He explained.

"Ah." She nodded in understanding. "Please, continue."

"The age of stagnation, which most consider to be a part of the Age of Rust, was a relatively short period of my peoples history involving a series of regressions that eventually led to the Cybertronian Civil War which ended our status as a star fairing civilization. The first of these "regressions" was the implementation of a harsh caste system; ruling class, scholar class, warrior caste, and miner/worker caste. I had been born into the warrior caste some time into the age of stagnation, during the tail end of a war with a neighboring space faring species."

"You were born during a war?" It was a surprise to her, the only war he had ever mentioned was the civil war… interesting.

"Yes, according to Sentinel Prime, they had seen our weakness at the end of the Age of Rust and decided to abduct our people in preparation for an invasion. How much of that is true and how much is propaganda is something that I can't tell you, but it matters little as the war ended before I could reach the front line."

"So you didn't see combat against another species?"

"Not that early in my life, no." She refrained from speaking. When he mentioned the war she had thought that's where he picked up the disdain that General Ironwood had mentioned, but it seemed she was incorrect. Regardless, it brought up a topic she had been meaning to broach for some time now. "You said you were born? How… exactly does that work?"

"You… you wish to learn about Cybertronian procreation?" Her ironclad discipline allowed her to shove down her embarrassment and she eventually nodded in confirmation. "That's difficult to explain. Mostly because I am no expert on the subject."

Oh. That's a little disappointing.

"But I will try nonetheless." She perked up. "Our birth involves something called a protoform which is a metaphorical blank slate body, no life, no nothing; composed of raw free flowing "living" metal. They then only require a spark to truly become alive, but are almost always given an alt form at the same time. It is then that a Cybertonian is truly born."

"You're manufactur-" A horribly loud electronic screech cut her off before she could finish, but it stopped just as abruptly as it began. Idly she rubbed the side of her helmet in a futile attempt to soothe her ear.

"I highly recommend you not debase my species by implying we are some simple product made in a factory!" She cringed at the realization that she did in fact just do that.

"I apologize, that wasn't my intent. I just meant to express the similarities of your people's "birth" to that of building something."

A derisive snort echoed in the cockpit. "It is very little like building something. From a conversation I held with Commander Starscream, creating a protoform requires directly manipulating the living metal in a vat of energon by programming it to take a cybertronian form. It is more an art form than a method of production. As for giving it a spark? That's beyond me. It likely has to do with the Allspark in some capacity or possibly is granted by Primus. Either way, I don't know."

"Allspark?"

Backblast sighed. "A topic for another time. Now where were we before we got sidetracked?"

"The war ended."

"Oh, yes! With the war's incredible success, Sentinel Prime was able to secure his position and implement many… what's the word you use for it… draconian! Yes, he implemented many draconian reforms harshly restricting exploration of new worlds and ideas. Wholly preferring to simply preserve what was left of our society with the exception of anything he personally designed or took part in."

"Sounds tyrannical." She noted.

"Whether it was tyranny or desperate measures by a Prime in over his servos is academic and not a topic I wish to broach because of deep personal bias." That was an incredibly wise thing to say, to acknowledge one's own bias requires significant self reflection that most don't even bother to consider. "Regardless, the results ended up speaking for themselves. Because of the Rust Plague, optimism brought about by the space exploration and colony programs were irrevocably ruined, and most citizens of Cybertron felt they no longer had anything to strive for. So they merely went through the motions of existence, in a sort of limbo for a million years or so."

"That sounds awful!"

"It was." He acknowledged. "Day by day. Year by year. Millennia by millennia. It was the same routine with no variation. The most exciting thing to happen was blowing up a rogue asteroid that got too close to Cybertron."

She looked down at the screen displaying Backblast's logo. "How coul-"

"Dagger-1, this is Blizzard-1." Her radio blared, interrupting her before she could finish expressing her confusion.

"Hold on, I've got to answer this." She leaned forward, and pressed the button to activate the radio. "Blizzard-1, go ahead."

"Our radars seem to be malfunctioning, you aren't showing up on them. I request we cancel the test flight."

"Negative, your radars are functioning correctly. The test will continue as planned." There was a pause, and she could practically hear the unasked question.

"…Understood ma'am."

A sigh escaped her lips as her radio clicked off.

"I take it they aren't aware of my secret?"

She gave the current placeholder for her friend's face a sheepish smile behind her breathing mask. "Sorry to say, but only a couple dozen people know your true nature."

"How lonely." He remarked sarcastically.

"What, am I not good enough company?"

"You are adequate."

A short bark of laughter burst from her lips. "Ass."

"I am no simple posterior."

They both devolved into chuckles at that statement. She leaned back into her seat and stared up into the blue abyss of the sky, marveling at its beauty. "Hey, Backblast?"

"What is it, Winter?"

"How'd you like to show these two what you can really do?"

"…You don't even know what I can really do."

"Is that a no?"

Her friend paused. "They're in for a shock. Better make sure that mask doesn't come loose, you're going to need it force feeding you oxygen."

With those words as her only warning, Backblast shot forward in a burst of acceleration that violently pressed her back into her seat.

"Shit!"

"We're not gonna let the rich girl show us up are we, Dave?"

"Hell no!"

Although she couldn't see it visually, her two escorts also shot forward as they pushed their engines to combat speeds. With a great heave of effort she managed to overcome the forces pressing down on her body and glance at her speed gauge. Her eyes almost bugged out when she saw that they broke the sound barrier, although it was still slower than what she knew the Shrike's top speed to be. Speaking of which, she glanced to her side and saw the nose of one of her escorts slowly gaining "ground" on her and Backblast.

"Ha! Looks like your fancy prototype ain't up to snuff when it comes to speed, ma'am."

"Hmpf. Stop playing with them."

"As you wish." A harsh whine echoed from the engines as the thrust flame glowed even brighter and Backblast took off in another burst of speed, leaving her two escorts behind as she broke the sound barrier twice over.

"Now that's more like it! C'mon Dave, full throttle! We'll make her eat exhaust even if it melts our engines!"

"Yes sir!"

The race was on once more.

Another boring morning full of tedious reports and coffee. Although, it could be worse. His reforms have been going smoothly, and its success allowed him to allocate funds to other projects. He lifted the mug and took a sip of the steaming black fluid.

BOOM!

Scalding hot fluid spilled all over his chest, as his office rumbled slightly. "Son of a-!"

BOOM!BOOM!

Two more soft rumblings assaulted his office, but he was able to identify the source this time. Two Shrikes blasted by the city at top speed in pursuit of a very familiar looking craft. He let out a sigh at the impending shitstorm that he'll have to deal with.

Sure enough, before he could even begin to plan an explanation his scroll rang; showing one of his fellow councilman's numbers.

"They are in so much trouble."

She laughed jubilantly as they blew past Atlas in the blink of an eye. They had probably just created a really big disturbance, but she couldn't bring herself to care; the adrenaline rush of shattering the sound barrier twice overwhelmed her completely. "C'mon! They're slowly gaining on us!"

Backblast huffed, and accelerated again, not only slamming her back into the crash webbing but also pushing past the limit of mach three, and completely leaving her escorts in the dust. He then went straight vertical and any adrenaline in her body flushed out, dumping her with a cold fear.

"Holy shit!"

"Can Dust even provide that level of thrust?!"

"I have no idea, but if she keeps climbing her engines will die from leaving the atmosphere."

She knew as much, it was an established fact that any Dust would become inert once it left the atmosphere. A threshold that she was rapidly approaching.

"Backblast?! What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Something you'll thank me for later." With that, they left the atmosphere.

"By the gods…"

"She actually did it…"

She was too stunned to shut off the radio, completely captivated by the star filled void. "Congratulations, Winter. You're officially Remnants' first astronaut."

How was she supposed to respond to that? Knowing that she just made history. Well, it's far more accurate to say that Backblast forced history to be made. It was then that he rotated his body, and she gasped. Before her, Remnant floated in the void like a peaceful blue marble. The sun was hitting it just right, only shadowing the world a small amount and leaving most of it perfectly visible. "It's beautiful."

"It is."

They remained like that for a while, just staring at Remnant from orbit; saying nothing and enjoying the silence. "I should take a picture."

"I doubt your scroll will work."

She let out a string of curses as she realized that she would need to buy a new scroll.

"Worry not, I've taken a picture for you."

Relief flooded her, It would be criminal to not show the rest of the world this sight. "I don't even remember what we were talking about before this."

"I'd been regaling you with the stagnation of my people."

"Oh yes! I remember, you'd mentioned how your people suffered through what sounded like hell. How did you not go insane from it all?"

"It likely has to do with our lifespans being so long, but it thankfully didn't last forever."

"What changed?"

"Gladiators." He said simply. "Great arenas were constructed where any could enter and test themselves in combat against colossal alien beasts or other gladiators. It is here that the seeds of change were laid."

"Gladiators? That sounds like something that existed in ancient northern Mistrali history." She remarked with some surprise. "If I recall correctly, they were bloody, and often to the death. How could such a place be where your society changed?"

"You have to understand something." He started. "These arenas were the only places in our society not dictated by routine or caste. It was there that my people felt alive again. Which made them immensely popular, a perfect stage for a disillusioned citizen to influence a crowd if they grew in popularity. Which is exactly what a veteran and member of the mining caste did in the arena pit of Kaon."

"I take it he was influential to your people?"

"Incredibly. An Autobot would tell this story differently, but let's begin. The gladiator had discarded whatever his name had been and claimed the name of one of the Thirteen original Primes; Megatronus."

He named himself after an ancient demi-god? "Sounds arrogant."

"It was not undeserved." He defended softly. "Megatronus had been the greatest gladiator in the world and drew immense crowds from all walks of life who eventually shortened his name to Megatron. Megatron had been a visionary as well as a warrior, and began addressing his audience of fans about the possibility of social change, even revolution. It captivated all of us."

She had to hold back some good natured laughter. "You were a fan?"

"I was." He admitted. "Megatron had a way with words that let him captivate the hearts of all who listened, and so the Decepticon cause was born."

"Just like that?"

"Well, there's a bit more to it, but that's pretty much how it happened."

"Why didn't Sentinel Prime stamp you out before your cause could grow too big?"

A sigh. "By the time Sentinel had learned of our movement, the population had already been split in two, and he would've had to wipe out half the population to stop us."

Shock rippled through her. For an organization to grow that fast shows just how dissatisfied Backblast's people had become with the status quo, and how much they desired change. "And that's when you rose up in revolution?"

"No. That didn't happen for a while. What came next was Megatron recruiting influential individuals to the cause. First had been Soundwave, who was rumored to be a former council member. Then came a backwater scientist by the name of Shockwave who continued his experiments in spite of the threat it presented to his life if Sentinel had found out. Finally was an idealistic scholar named Orion Pax, who became a sort of protege to Megatron."

"A colorful bunch." She snarked.

"Eventually Megatrons' influence grew to the point where he, his inner circle, and guard retinue, which I had been a part of, received an audience before Sentinel Prime himself and the council to address our concerns."

"You were there?!"

Backblast sighed wistfully. "Yes, I was. I watched Megatron deliver an impassioned speech about our societys' deep corruption, unfairness, and need for systemic change. However, the council sidestepped Megatron when his protege Orion Pax stepped forward and cautioned Megatron that perhaps a less extreme approach would be better. The council presented the title of Prime to the archivist, publicly humiliating Megatron and the Decepticon cause by brushing him off so easily. As Pax rose to become Sentinels' direct successor, Megatron rejected his now former friend and stormed out of the council chambers promising war."

She looked at his logo in disgust. They just brushed off the de facto second leader of their people like he didn't matter?! It reminded her a little of how her father would brush off any of her desires that didn't benefit him. That's… that's! That's infuriating! "How did they respond?"

"They laughed at him." Her jaw dropped. "An action that they would regret when a day later all of Cybertronian civilization was engulfed in a brutal civil war, formally ending the Age of Stagnation and starting the multi-million year long Cybertronian Civil War."

"By the gods."

"That's enough of our talks for now. Besides, the good General has tried no less than fifteen times to call you, and your oxygen tank is getting low."

She let slip a curse and fumbled to try and find an answer button, only to realize that she had no idea how to answer the General with any of these buttons. A soft chuckle projected from the speakers. "Allow me."

The screen displaying Backblast's logo changed to instead show General Ironwood with a brown stain on the front of his uniform, steepled over his desk and a frown written across his face. "Lieutenant Schnee. You better have a good explanation."

She didn't, but she had something that means she won't need one. "I'm in outer space, General."

He stared at her in complete incomprehension. "You're… what?"

"Our- I mean, the prototype is capable of reaching outer space, sir. And, well… here I am." She paused. "It's beautiful, sir."

"I-I see…" Ironwood looked deep in thought. "Collect as much data as you can and get back down here ASAP. The disturbance you two caused has kicked the hornet's nest."

"Of course, sir!" With a meaningful look, she silently told Backblast to send the picture of Remnant. "But you should see this picture first, it might be of some assistance."

A soft ding echoed from the screen and Ironwood's eyes widened. "Is that…?"

She nodded. "It's Remnant, sir. Our home."

If she didn't know any better, she would've thought the General to be mesmerized by the image from how intently he was staring at it. "I can use this, but you need to be down here, now."

"Yessir!" The communication cut, leaving her in silence.

"Well." Backblast started to accelerate back towards Remnant. "Best hold onto something, this is going to get hot and rough."

She looked at him scandalized, but that soon changed when Backblast started shaking and flames burst into being.

This wasn't going to be fun.

A.N./Fusing different timelines gets a little fucky, but I think I did it alright. Obviously, Backblast is speaking from a point of Decepticon bias and perspective, so it's not quite how people will remember it going.

Right, so… RWBY: Ice Queendom.

Its animation was weird because it was both stunningly good at times and incredibly meh at others.

I absolutely fucking DESPISE Shions' character design. I think it's not only hideous beyond words, but I also think it sticks out like a sore fucking thumb compared to the relative "normal" look of the rest of the cast; and this, sadly, soured my opinion of her character.

Not that there was much to her character anyway.

The story is a'ight. Tiny Weiss is absolutely fucking adorable. Jacques is still a dick. Jaune is still a bumbling idiot with a heart of gold. I like Blake a little more than I used to; because holy shit, she was interesting again. The nightmare Grimm is a cool concept that I wish will be further explored. The fights mostly kicked ass. Finally, there were some pretty nifty looking pieces of artistic design and Easter Eggs.

Holy fuck the food fight at the end hit me with a vicious wave of nostalgia. I felt like I was in High School again, getting excited over a new RWBY or RvB episode. The emotion was so strong it actually made my chest hurt a little.

All in all, it's a perfectly serviceable addition to the RWBY franchise, and I am glad it was made.

Sure it has issues, but I'll take what I can get these days.

Peace muh dudes!