Random Writing

This scene is back story and does not, nor will appear in the main story. The setting is made up.

Maverick sat back on the couch in the library. It was dark outside, about 9pm. The weather team had scheduled a large storm, and lightning was flashing outside, rain lashing against the windows. Soft candle light lit the room and Twilight walked in, holding another in an ivory candle holder with her mouth. She set it down on a table in front of Maverick, before settling onto an armchair opposite him.

"So are you going to tell me how you got that scar on your back?" Twilight asked.

Maverick nodded. He had agreed to tell her sometime, and being stuck inside during a storm seemed as good a time as any. He rubbed the two-foot-long scar going diagonally across his back, before starting.

1 Year 8 months before the events of February 2nd, 2011

Location: CENSORED, Middle East

Objective: CENSORED

Operatives: CENSORED Howards, CENSORED House

Maverick was flying a Harrier Jump Jet in an undisclosed area of the Middle East, closing in on a city adorned with several pillars of smoke.

"Base-Plate, this is Whiskey Flight, 14 miles from target." Maverick spoke into the mask attached to his helmet.

"Roger Whiskey Flight, continue to target. Base-Plate out."

"Roger, Whiskey out." Maverick turned off the microphone in his helmet. "Another day in the office, huh Stackhouse?" he asked his navigator.

"Not sure why you count these runs as another day in the office, but yeah, I'd say so. 12 miles to target, no contacts. Seems quiet." Stackhouse replied in a soft Scottish accent.

"Too quiet?" Maverick asked, adding a dun dun dunnnn. A moment later they crossed the city limits.

"Ok, friendly IR beacon just showed up on the scope." Stackhouse said.

"Roger, starting attack run." Maverick slowed the throttle and lowered the crafts altitude. He and Stackhouse were now 30 feet from the roofs of the tallest buildings, doing 200 kph over the street to get a clear shot.

"Know what we need? Ride of the Valkyries." Stackhouse said.

Maverick laughed, but quickly became serious. "Any targets?"

Stackhouse spoke to the commander of the ground team. "Roger that, laze the target." Stackhouse turned off the mic. "He says they've got a T-90, 250 feet from their position, their lazing it now. We've got the all clear to take it out."

"Ok, preparing to fire." a few seconds later, the lock on beep filled the cockpit.

"Whiskey Flight, Fox 2." Maverick pulled the trigger and a streak of fire shot ahead of them, down into the streets. It shot over the heads of the ground team and hit the tank a second later, throwing fire and smoke into the sky and surrounding street.

"Good effect on target. God bless superior firepower." Maverick said.

"Now you sound American." Stackhouse said before contacting the ground team. "Can you confirm good effect on target? ...Roger, we're coming around for another run." Stackhouse turned off the mic as Maverick banked the Harrier hard to the right and pulled up, doing a U-turn.

"Roger Base-Plate, hearing you loud and clear." Stackhouse was getting another transmission. "Roger, Whiskey Flight out. Ok, the evac choppers nearly here, so we're gonna make one more run before going VTOL at the LZ to cover the ground team."

"Roger." Maverick leveled out. "It's been too long since we got to use the turret."

"Too right."

Maverick pointed the nose of the fighter into the street, a hundred feet up and 500 feet away, closing fast. He released a barrage of Hellfire missiles into a number building facades across the street from the ground team. He pulled up before he went below building height and flew through the smoke cloud.

"I'm sure the insurance will cover that." Maverick said, making Stackhouse laugh. Maverick banked again and eventually reached the LZ, slowed the jet, switched to VTOL mode and hovered over a small park. The wind sent loose papers, garbage, palm fronds and sand into the air. The park was a wreck from the fighting in the city, and the few palm trees in the park were mostly either knocked down or shot to pieces. A minute later the ground team came in through the main gate, chased by streaks of gunfire and looked to be 2 men short, a third being supported by the commander. The three remaining soldiers took up defensive positions and returned fire.

Maverick heard Stackhouse cracking his knuckles. "Let's get to work." he said.

Maverick pushed the joystick forward gently, moving the Harrier above the soldiers.

"Handing over control." Maverick said.

"Roger." Stackhouse acknowledged, before grasping the joystick in front of him and turning his attention to the thermal image on his screen. He began firing the turret at anything that didn't have a flashing IR beacon, and soon enough the attackers were backing off under heavy casualties. Maverick saw a contact come onto the scope, and recognized the evac chopper. The ground team turned and ran through the park towards an area of open land.

The attackers weren't giving up yet.

Angry and deprived of their prey, they turned on the Maverick and Stackhouse, small arms fire flying around the fighter.

"This is getting hairy, is the ground team safe?" Stackhouse asked.

"The choppers touching down now. Another 10 seconds." Maverick replied.

"We may not have that long." as soon as Stackhouse said it, he saw a door get kicked out on the roof of a building and several of the attackers ran out, firing on the cockpit canopy.

"Ok, hand me control!" Maverick shouted to Stackhouse.

"Handing over control." Stackhouse said back.

Trust Stackhouse to be calm in a situation like this.

Maverick took over control of the jet and power of the thruster's keeping the jet in the air, but not before another menace appeared. While they had been distracted by the roof top bad guys, two more had appeared in the street with RPG launchers. As one crouched to fire, the other fired a wild shot. Maverick threw the stick to the right to dodge, and did so successfully, but was off kilter. By the time he leveled out, the other had fired. Maverick switched to level flight, but before they went anywhere the orange streak flew up and hit the rudder, blowing the tail clean off. Warning beeps filled the cockpit and Maverick felt the jet begin to fall.

"Jesus!" Stackhouse screamed, finally losing his cool. Fire and sparks were gushing out of where the tail should be, like some sort of destructive fountain.

The jet was pivoting left and right, out of control. Maverick had switched back to VTOL the second they got hit, but the half a second spent in level flight had given them speed and cost them height. Trying to turn the jet around, the Harrier turned sharply to the right before crashing sideways into the top floor of a building by the parks edge. The scream of twisting metal and shattering brick filled the air, and the downed Harrier continued crashing through the building, the final wall barely stopping it. Maverick felt a sharp, numb pain in his back.

Maverick sat there for a few seconds, still very much conscious and riding an adrenaline rush like a tsunami. He shouted back at Stackhouse. "You ok Stackhouse?" he got no reply. That wasn't good. He tried to turn but screamed as the worst pain he had ever felt coursed through his back. He stopped moving and sat still, waiting for the hostiles to move in and finish him off.

A minute later he heard footsteps, and a figure appeared over him.

"Nice wreck son. Lets get you outta here." Maverick felt himself being pulled forward, out of the cockpit, by the commander of the ground force and another soldier. He shouted in pain as they started him dragging him to the stairs.

"What about Stackhouse?" Maverick shouted as the gunfire started once again, the other 2 soldiers standing by the demolished wall firing down into the park.

"Dead." the commander shouted simply. They pulled him up the stairs onto the roof, ordering the others to follow. They boarded the open ramp of the Chinook, and Maverick felt himself losing consciousness in his seat. The pain was intense.

"Jesus." was all Maverick could say. He heard the pilot talking into the radio.

"Base-Plate, Evac 1 is in the air, downed Whiskey Flight pilot on board, navigator dead. We are Oscar Mike to you now, Base-Plate..."

Back to Twilights library

"...when I got back, the cut was worse, and needed 20 stitches. As you can see, it never healed very well."

"Wow." was all Twilight could say.

A/N: The reason this won't be part of the main story is that 1: It scarcely has any ponies and 2: too long