Rainbow Dash: Mile High Club

Prologue: Mission Status: Yellow

At the piercing alarm, Dash jumped out of her cot, and breaking away from the sleep that dominated her consciousness, she pulled on her fatigues. The scratchy grey material chafed her ankles, and she grimaced as she cinched her belt with a tug. Last to go where her heavy steel-toed boots. Lacing them up tightly, she cantered out the door to the barracks and flinched as the brilliant sunlight burned white in her sleepy vision.

“Oy, mate!” came a call from across the yard. Dash turned to see X-Ray gesturing to her. Heeding his call, she trotted briskly up beside him and joined him mid-stride as the pair walked towards the large blue hangar that stood in the distance.

“What’s the word, X?” Dash asked as they marched in step. She shot a sidelong glance to her squad mate: his brilliant, short red mane stood unchecked and wild, as it always did. Murky freckles dominated his light complexion, and his wings stood straight out in agitation. She noticed with a smirk that he looked as though he hadn’t shaved in what looked like two days. Romeo’s gonna be on his flanks for that she thought smugly.

“Seems the boss-man got pinged by a ghost,” he said mysteriously. “Looks like we’ve got a high-risk mission on our hooves. Again.” He laughed as he saw Dash’s defiant look. “Not that we don’t put our arse out there every day, anyhow, eh?”

“Just another day in the SAS, X-Ray,” Dash agreed emphatically.

. . . .

It had all been like a dream to her; after retiring from the Wonderbolts after five years of proficient flying, rainbow Dash had felt empty, as though she were missing some kind of purpose in her life.

Until one day, when Fate itself seemed to knock on her door- literally so, in fact. She had opened the door to find two darkly dressed pegasi in shades who had an awful lot of questions for the startled rainbow mare.

Before she knew it, she had landed in boot camp for the Special Air Service. A low-profile air wing that served under the Sun Princesses herself, Dash found the SAS to be exceptionally exciting: kicking butt, running high-risk missions, and saving Equestria from crazy New Lunar Republic baddies on a weekly basis was her grand forte.

Not to mention, the food she got wasn’t too bad, either.

. . . .

As the pair approached the large hangar, Dash heard a click and a grinding squeal as the heavy door was pulled away to reveal the Killing House obstacle course, as well as Romeo and Charlie standing near a battery of monitors. Romeo turned to the two pegasi, smiling through his thick mutton chops. His smile dropped as he saw X-Ray, however.

“What’s that on your face, eh? What kind of moppet are you, not even shaving, eh? We’ve got a mission coming up!” The grey pegasus let out a slight tch and rolled his eyes. “Who am I kiddin', you’ll never get it right, ya daft colt.” He laughed heartily as he smacked a bright red X-ray hard on the back. The latter returned the embrace with a sheepish smile.

“Now,” Romeo said, voice hardening as he turned around to head towards the meeting room, “meet me inside, gents and ladyfoals. We’ve got a mission to take care of.”

Dash trotted down the hall behind Charlie and X-Ray, mind reeling in brilliant expectation.

. . . .

As Rainbow dash sat down, the lights clicked off and the rest of the ponies took their seats, save for Charlie. A projector screen extended, and with a sharp click, the projector displayed a dazzling blue rectangle on the screen, which fought a losing battle against Charlie’s bright yellow fur and white mane as he stood in its light. His wings hung stiffly at his sides.

His determined smirk was lit up grandly by the projector’s lights. Clicking a remote, the blue screen was replaced with the picture of a coffee colored earth pony, who was dressed sharply in a pinstripe suit. A cropped mane and tail portrayed a business-like persona.

“At 0300 hours east Equestrian time, we received a ping from an unidentifiable source stating that this pony here (he indicated with a hoof on the screen), Maximilian Fregata, was boarding a flight from Celestia International Airport today, at 0950. The source also claims that—” his voice paused as he flicked the screen to reveal a very tired-looking unicorn, who sat smugly with a black eye.

“...Averine Tulles, a certified New Lunar Republic ultra-nationalist, was to be hi-jacking the plane en-route to Fillydelphia Air Hub. Now, we can’t let that happen, folks. Fregata is far too important to fall into ultra-nationalist hooves. He holds too much sway in the royal council, and would disrupt the proceedings if he were to fall…absent.” Charlie added the last part of his speech solemnly.

Dash remarked silently that Charlie’s analytical mind seemed appropriate for the data mining and retrieval that was necessary in a job like this, but his execution of the plan to the squad needed some work.

Romeo seemed to think in a similar manner.

“Get on with it, Charlie, we haven’t got all day, eh?” he shouted in the dark to Dash’s left.

“Ah, yes. Well, since it was an untraceable source, but still a legitimate reason to worry, the higher-ups decided to send a squad to make sure there aren’t any problems while the plane’s up in the air.”

“And that mystery squad would be…us?” called X-Ray off in the dark.

“Correct. So, we need to be mission-ready in less than thirty minutes so we can get to Celestia International in time to set up.” He clicked his remote, and the projector shut off. The screen rolled up as the fluorescent lights flicked on with a blinding flash.

Romeo stood up, addressing his squad mates.

“We’re going to be inserted in the crew section during the flight to ensure we stay out of sight. If everything goes wrong, then we’ll be getting one hell of a fight to fix it. If it all goes right, well, we’ll get a free flight to Fillydelphia. Courtesy of Special Forces.” He smiled behind his thick beard.

“And what exactly would ‘everything going wrong’ entail, sir?” X-Ray piped up from the other end of the room.

Romeo’s smile dropped.

“Well, X, I’d imagine it goes something like this: shooting our way through up to probably thirty-something crazed Luna-loving stallions as we try to get to Fregata, and hoping he's still alive to even justify the amount of lead we'll probably be sucking up on our way to him. Then, depending on if the crew is still breathing and coherent or not, we get to have a little free-flight dive.” His grin returned, enigmatic, and a fire burned in his pale blue eyes. “Understood, sergeant?”

“Yessir.”

“Alright then, get loaded up! I want mission standard gear Omega-Foxtrot-Seven for this round! Get to it, mates! And don’t forget,” he added, his gaze hardening on his squad mates.

“Who dares wins.”