Tales of the Wonderbolts

1

        The General paced the length of his office, grumbling irritably under his breath and shooting random looks in the direction of the bronze adolescent sitting on the opposite of the desk. For a wonder, Starfire had kept silent the entire time, daring only to shift his front hooves in youthful restlessness. He opened his mouth a few times in an attempt to speak, but the cursory glances from the General were enough for him to keep his peace. Instead, he impatiently waited for his superior officer to make the first move.

        Finally, the older stallion stopped at his desk, perusing the sheets of paper that constituted a mission debriefing which lay scattered randomly above an open folder. “Multiple accounts of defiance,” the General read aloud in a tired voice, “back-talking a commander, disobeying a direct order, recklessly endangering the lives of your squa-”

        “Hey hey hey,” Starfire spoke up defensively, ears flattening, “I did not ask them to follow me. They did so of their own accord.”

        The General sat still, letting the interruption hang in the air before continuing. “Recklessly endangering the lives of your squadron... and above all else, saving the lives of two Equestrian Army Corps soldiers.”

        Starfire frowned, wishing his superior would get to the point so he could get back out and fly. Such details didn’t particularly interest him; he knew what he did and he didn’t regret it. Anypony else would’ve done the very same. Apparently, however, the good deed didn’t outweigh or negate the bad idea. He tapped his hoof against the floor, a bad habit he developed over the years, though he finally stopped upon seeing the annoyance lining the General’s face.

        “What am I going to do with you...” the General sighed, leaning over the desk and rubbing his temples in exasperation. On the one hoof, the youth had completely disregarded an order to retreat and played the hero. On the other... he had succeeded, and saved a couple of grunts from a life of hell.

        “You are going to let me go and call it a wash?” Starfire asked hopefully, putting on his best smile. The glare he received, however, told him that it wasn’t going to be so easy.

        “You openly defied your commander,” the General reminded him.

        “I saved their lives,” the young stallion retorted.

        “That’s the problem,” the superior told him flatly. “I need to punish you, but I need to reward you. I cannot just call it a ‘wash’ - what sort of message would that send to the rest of the fleet? ‘Oh, go ahead and defy structured orders just because you have to do the right thing.’ It doesn’t work like that. Unfortunately...” he sighed, “If I reward you, it sends the same message. If I punish you, it tells them to not think outside the box... so, instead, I’m promoting you to Captain.”

        He said it so matter-of-factly that Starfire at first missed the statement entirely. “Captain?” he asked carefully, letting the words swirl through his mind. He hadn’t expected such an unusual turn of events.

        “Yes. Captain,” the General grinned, “of the Thunder Chasers.”

        “The Thunder Chickens!?” Starfire felt his face drop; his stomach sank at the very thought of being placed with them. Along with the other escort wings, they were constantly mocked. Pegasi who generally were either too weak or too scared to fight would volunteer into escort duty, while others were demoted to their ranks as punishment. As a result, they had developed a low reputation and general disliking among the rest of the R.E.A.F. To many, being court-martialed or even discharged was a better punishment.

        “Thunder Chasers,” the General corrected, mildly amused at the other’s despair.

        “B-b-b-but but but...” The bronze youth shook his head, attempting his argument again. “But they’re escort! All they do is fly some meters above a bunch of weather mares! I’m a fighter!”

        “It’s the best I can do!” the General shot back, his amusement quickly being replaced by annoyance once again. “Would you rather be honorably discharged and have your flank kicked back home? The brass loved that idea, by the way. They don’t know what it’s like out here - they just see you as a nuisance, a black mark on their tidy little record.” The older stallion grunted, almost grimacing at his next words. “But I know better. As much as I hate to admit it, you’re damn needed out here, and I can’t waste a good resource because of some horse-apples technicality. Not only can you fly, but inspiring others is your own special talent!”

        Starfire winced, very aware of the cutie mark now burning a hole into his flank. It was a simple ball of pseudo-luminescence, denoting his charismatic personality and special ability to inspire and lead others. It was probably even why the rest of his squadron followed him into that Anhalter camp to rescue those two Equestrian earth ponies. It had been a miracle that no one was seriously injured during their impromptu raid - only a few nicks and cuts, Starfire himself getting a rear hoof to his face.

        “Whether you know it or not, whether you like it or not, I’m doing you a favor here. I’m sticking my neck out and making sure you stay active.”

        A defeated sigh escaped Starfire’s lips as he hung his head down. “Yes, sir. I deeply appreciate it, sir.” He’d just have to grin and bear it, and make the best out of his situation.

        The General smiled. “Come now, it won’t be all that bad. And to be frank, you could do well to take a big bite of humble pie for once.” When Starfire looked up again, he could see a gleam sparkled in the corner of the older stallion’s eye.

        “And what they hay, you might turn out to make the best squadron we’ve ever seen.”