Tales of the Wonderbolts

1

The tip of Starfire’s sagging tail swept along the dusty road as he trekked forward, intentionally dragging his feet to delay the inevitable torement known as escort duty. Something akin to a pout caused his face to scrunch has he stared down at his hooves, automatically following the route to his new squadron.

He grunted, trying to push away the negative thoughts. The General did, after all, stick up for him, even though the superior didn’t have to. And at least he was still flying, so there was that. Still... escort duty! Because he disobeyed a silly order and saved a couple of grunts. Where was the fairness in that? Though a daydreamer, he didn’t let his head swim with delusions of grandeur - it’s not like he wanted a medal or special recognition. He just wanted to fly.

The bronze stallion pulled his eyes up as he came upon a line of shadows, noting five muzzles standing abreast and at attention. Begrudgingly, he lifted his head up to get a full look at his new crew, sizing up the team as he began pacing in front of them.

“Greetings,” he began, coming out of his slump with a renewed air of authority. About as much authority as a foalsitter with a houseful of brats. “My name is Starfire, and I am your newly-appointed Captain-”

“More like you were demoted and thrown to the wolves like half of us here.” Starfire glared at the snarky interrupter, took a deep breath, and continued.

“As I was saying,” he growled through gritted teeth, “I am the newly-appointed Captain of the Thunder Cha-” A random squawk came from nearby, followed by idiotic guffawing.

“Hey, look! It’s the Thunder Chickens!” one voice shouted through his laughter.

“Bawk bawk bawk!” The other joined in, flapping his wings.

“I swear to Celestia...” Starfire muttered under his breath, eye twitching. It was a bad morning that was quickly becoming worse by the second. A strange, distant remorse filled the back of his head - he’d done the very same thing, mocking escort teams as though he were someone special.

Try as he might to hold himself back, their latest burst of ridiculing punctured his last remaining nerve. He twisted around, wings flared, his fine coat-hair standing on end. “The Baron have your souls, you blasted pigeons!” At the mention of the Baron, their mocks ceased. Starfire allowed himself a sardonic grin as he saw a collective shiver run down the pair’s spines. With a glance between them, they suddenly took off to fulfill whatever duties they were originally out for.

Starfire turned back to his squad, letting out a breath. After collecting himself, the bronze pegasus resumed his pacing while clearing his throat.

“Once again, I am the newly-appointed Captain of the Thunder Chasers. Before we can even begin to work together, I’d just like to get to know you all more.”

Finally, he stopped at one end of the line, standing eye-to-eye with a lean, cream colored pegasus.

“Name?” Starfire requested, returning to his element.

“Cloud Keeper, sir.”

“Reason for being in the Thunder Chi- Chasers?” Already he was slipping up. Starfire mentally berated himself - if even he, the new captain, couldn’t respect the squad, how could anyone else?

“I was deemed too weak to fight, sir. I worked at a hotel in Cloudsdale before being drafted. My... my special talent is fluffing clouds and pillows...” Cloud Keeper sunk his head at that admission, but the bronze captain only smiled.

“We’ll see if you are too weak. Though not often, since escort rarely gets to fight. Buck up, soldier, and surprise me!”

“Yes, sir! Sir, may I ask a question?” The young pegasus cocked his head nervously.

“Of course.” Probably just a simple flight question, but Starfire would answer it all the same. Keep nice with the General and all that.

“Who’s the Baron?”

Starfire frowned, feeling his own chill. He’d thrown the name out, as though it were a tangible threat that he could control. But now that he was back to his senses, the name once again turned his blood to ice-water.

Pulling in a shuddering breath, he began loud enough for the entire squadron to hear.. “His name is Baron von Himmel. In Anhalter, it means ‘Lord of the Sky’. And... well... he really lives up to his name. He’s very distinctive - you’d know him when you saw him. A fine coat as scarlet as the setting sun, flowing mane and flagging tail as black as a moonless night, and a silk scarf of shimmering gold. To meet him in the sky is a frightening experience. Despite what his reputation would say otherwise, he does not kill. He... He only sends us back home, beaten and bloody and with our tails between our legs. And once he marks you, there’s no shaking him. He will break your spirit - by breaking your body if he has to.”

“Oh...” was all the cream colored, yet very green, recruit could muster.

Meanwhile, Starfire continued with his faux-inspection, reaching the next pony in line. “Name?”

“Bolt Buck, sir.”

“Reason for being in the Thunder Chasers?”

“I was sentenced here when one of my lightning bolts went astray and injured a squadmate.”

“They punished you for an accident?” Starfire frowned. Disobeying an order was one thing, but a mishap?

“No, sir. They wanted to brush it off, but I demanded retribution, after making sure my wingmate was going to live.” Bolt Buck stared straight ahead, standing firm and proper the entire time.

“I respect that,” Starfire said, and meant it. Soon, unfortunately, he’d come to wish the entire team had the same attitude as Bolt Buck.

“Thank you, sir.”

Another step, another pony. “Name?” Starfire asked automatically.

“Speed Strike, sir.” He stood rigid, his sapphire coat shimmering under the noon sun.

“Reason for being in the Thunder Chasers?”

“Disciplinary action, sir. The higher-ups said I was too aggressive on the field. They wanted me to ‘settle down’ on escort.” He shrugged. “Flying is flying, so this doesn’t bother me.”

“Just keep yourself in check,” Starfire retorted dryly. “Any wrong movements and I’ll bring you down myself.”

Speed Strike nodded. “Understood, sir.”

The next pony in line bore a coat the color of steel, with a mane as white as Starfire’s. “Name?”

“Wind Burst, sir. But everyone calls me Thunder.”

“Thunder, huh? If you prefer it. Reason for being in the Thunder Chasers?”

Thunder lowered his head. “Heart Arrhythmia, sir.” He brought his head back up so fast that Starfire was afraid the pony would snap his own neck. “I want to fight. I want to defend the honor of Equestria. But the Brass wouldn’t allow it. They were afraid I’d just be a burden - some ticking timebomb. So they tossed me onto escort...”

The bronze captain put a reassuring hoof on the steel pony’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll get plenty of air time with me.”

The final pegasus, Starfire noted as he walked over, was the one who had interrupted earlier. A strange scent struck the Captain as he faced the stallion - it was a horrible, almost acidic concoction of alcoholic beverages.

“Name?” He asked for the final time

“Comet Streak,” the ruby-red pegasus grinned. Starfire noted that the squadmate had not addressed him as ‘sir’.

"Have you been drinking, pilot?" he cocked his head warningly.

The staggering pony replied with a grin. "Last night I was. I only had a shot or four of whiskey. Maybe an ale here or there, a lager, a few cheap brews..." The pegasus continued to list an astonishing number of random drinks for almost a full minute, finally concluding with, "Oh, and a sip of that Pan-Equestrian Gargle Blaster."

Starfire had to feel around the ground for his jaw. “How in the name of Celestia are you still standing? And more importantly, just what are you doing drinking on duty?”

Comet shrugged, and grinned his cocky little grin. “I can hold a drink. Or two. Or... how many did I say? And I wasn’t on duty! I never drink on duty! Only when I’m off do I grab a swig.”

Starfire sighed, running the length of his face with a hoof. “Can you fly, at least?”

“I believe the question you should be asking is, ‘can I fly straight’, to which I have no answer.”

Starfire felt a vein ready to burst in the back of his head. “You know what? Forget it. Reason for being in the Thunder Chasers?”

Comet beamed from behind his dull-yellow forelock, with a mane and tail to match. “I like watchi- I mean protecting the pretty mares.”

That was it. Any moment of calm he felt by Thunder instantly vanished. This particular pony had annoyed him thrice now, and Starfire wasn’t going to put up with it. He’d have to ride this one, and hard, to get him under control. "Try again, you moron. I'm gonna say it again, and you're going to give me a REAL answer, or I swear as Celestia as my witness I will reach in and pull your tail out your mouth!" the Captain yelled, his patience having worn away completely. His chest bellowed heavily..

Comet shifted in place and sighed. "I accidentally tore up several surplus stalls while trying to impress a mare..." he said begrudgingly. "Buncha jerks. It was all an accident, I mean, did that one old stallion REALLY have to press charges?"

"Shut up, would you? The sound of your voice is giving me a migraine. Now stand still and keep your yap sewn shut or I'll do it myself," he ordered. Comet sighed and gave a deadpan stare as he ‘listened’ to his orders. "What you're going to be doing today is doing some stunt flying over a crowd as the REAF's hoofball game begins." He then pointed to a gray stallion standing on the left of Comet. "Thunder, you'll be doing some simple loops. Nothing too straining on your heart." He then pointed to a blue stallion to the right of Thunder. "Speed Strike, you'll be doing an Aileron roll through that loop..." He then stared at Comet. "You'll be doing the same thing Strike’s doing, only in the opposite direction. Think you can handle that hot-shot?" the Captain asked as he narrowed his eyes.

"Handle it? I can do it with my wings tied down and my rear-hooves taped to my gut!" Comet said, puffing out his chest.

"Careful what you wish for, hot-shot. You might just get it," the captain smirked maliciously.

2

“Good form, squad!” Starfire called out over the whipping wind. A mass of blue-and-gold tattered uniforms performed their stunts above a crowd. To the spectators, they were tricks. To the Thunder Chasers, they were aerial combat maneuvers.

Through his cracked goggles, Starfire watched his squadron perform their dives and rolls. Speed Strike executed his Aileron roll with practiced precision, though Comet’s mirror was less spectacular. The ruby hot-shot missed all of his marks, throwing the attack coordination off.

Thunder kept up his loop, falling into a good, if wide, circle. Of course, his heart wouldn’t allow very tight or fast flying, but the pony would try his hardest anyway.

Meters across from the jumbled mess of attack patterns, Bolt Buck and Cloud Keeper locked themselves into a diving spiral, trying to hit each other. The crowd couldn’t decide which show to focus on, but Starfire was extremely pleased with their form in the spiral. Neither could gain the advantage over the other, and just before the ground they parted and pulled straight up.

Starfire noted movement from the corner of his eye, spying a team of mares as they brought clouds in to cover the base’s Hoofball game. Must be the ones we’re protecting, he smiled. Immediately, he spotted their leader - a sky-blue, slender legged mare with a mane and tail of alternating stripes of coat-matching blue and pearl-white.

The bronze captain brought the tip of his hoof to his mouth and whistled. The Thunder Chasers stopped, looking in his direction.

“Come on,” he said as they gathered to their leader. “Let’s go introduce ourselves to our consorts.”