Tales of the Wonderbolts

by Artimae

Rating: everyone
Tags: Romance, Adventure
Length: 9928

Follow the history of the Wonderbolts as they rise from humble beginnnings.

(Co-Authored by Lithe)
The unsteady peace between the Kingdom of Equestria and the eastern Duchy of Anhalter has finally broken as Duchess Amalia von Anhalter refuses to continue trade of a valuable resource to her neighboring lands, stating Princess Celestia to be unfair in her dealings and declaring Equestria as her enemy. Reluctantly, the monarch of Equestria answers the challenge and sends her nation into battle.

Follow from the perspectives of both Starfire, grandfather of Spitfire, and inaugural captain of the Wonderbolts of Equestria; and Baron von Himmel, captain of Sons of Sleipnir, Valkyrie Wing.

(Cover Art credit to: http://maximillianveers.deviantart.com)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-02 16:06:22 UTC

Prologue

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.”

Chapter One: Enter the Thunder Chasers

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.”

Chapter Two: Enter Ci Squadron

1

The sky-blue mare looked up, internally groaning as her team’s escort flew over to introduce themselves. Only the bronze one was unfamiliar to her - the rest she’d gotten to know quite well while they defended her Ci Squadron.

She smiled at the sight of Thunder. If she liked anypony on that team of misfits, it would be him. He was normal, at least. Not to mention always very polite. A twang of sympathy coursed through her as she remembered his fragile heart. Bolt Buck was a sweetie too, she decided, though he could be a little... uncoordinated. Especially with his lightning.

Near those two was that detestable pig of a pony known as Comet Streak. Just the other day, that birdbrain had trashed a few of the surplus stalls on base while trying to impress another weather mare. With a malicious disgust, she had hoped he’d broken his wing and lay grounded, at least for a while.

What made it all the worse was her very own lieutenant had developed a silly filly’s crush on that numbskull. Speed Star’s eyes would sparkle every time that barely-flying alcohol disposal came zipping by. No matter how many times Jetstream asked her why that colt in particular when there were so many... nicer ones, she’d only retort that she wanted to settle Comet Streak down.

“It’s no fun when it’s not a challenge.” Her mind never changed on this matter. Jetstream only hoped that her friend’s heart wouldn’t get broken by that smooth talking, but far less smooth flying stallion

No such luck with the wing, Jetstream sighed. Her eyes were drawn back to that slender figure of bronze as he brought his team down on top of their cloud. A very small part of her even wanted to declare him ‘cute’, though that could have just been because he was a new face. Still, let him make the first move, as he undoubtedly would. The stallions always did.

2

A million thoughts raced through Starfire’s brain as he touched down on the cloud, locking his golden eyes with the weather captain’s own icy-blue pair. He found it was a tight balance to not just let himself fall into those pupils that returned a barely interested gaze.

The aroma wafting off of her didn’t help his cause any as its invisible tendrils tantalized his nostrils. When he was just a young foal on his daddy’s farm, he would gallop through the nearby meadow, reveling in the sensation of the rain hitting his back and the wet grass soaking his hooves. The accompanying, unique smell of a spring day’s light shower was always his favorite for its simple purity.

The exact same smell surrounded her now.

He straightened out, clearing his throat and trying to maintain a professional composure while the rest of the team landed behind him. “I’m Starfire,” he said, reaching a hoof out and holding his haze. “I was just appointed captain of the Thunder Chasers.”

“Jetstream,” she replied, taking his gruff hoof in her dainty one. “Captain of Ci Squadron, Weather Patrol.” Well, he’s polite at least. I wonder if he’s easily stirred... “Thunder!” She pushed past Starfire and gave her steel friend a comfortable hug. “How are you, sweetie?”

He returned the embrace much as a brother would hug his sister. “As fine as I ever am.”

Starfire gave a lopsided grin as he looked upon the two. “So you’re familiar with each other?”

Either her plan had failed, or else he just didn’t get annoyed. “Yes,” she confirmed, “you’re the only one who’s unfamiliar around here.”

“Ah,” he replied, catching a movement to his left. He cow-kicked out, landing Comet Streak square in the shoulder.

“Ow! What the hay!” Comet snapped, glaring at his Captain.

Starfire gave an apologetic look to his female counterpart. “If you’ll excuse me.” In a flash, he turned his attention on Comet Streak, who visibly jumped at the sudden movement. “Stop being a birdbrain for the mares and focus! Stand at attention until I tell you to move or you’ll be running laps with your wings tied!”

“Hey!” one of the mares piped up.

“Speed Star,” Jetstream gazed at her lieutenant sternly, “stay yourself.”

“Aw, c'mon Captain! Just let me sock him once," she said, cracking her neck.

"Feisty... I like that in a mare," Comet smirked, slicking his mane back with a wing. "C'mon, you know you liked that stunt."

"Yeah, about as much as having a screw drilled into my head," she said sarcastically, causing a few of the other cadets to laugh.

"That can be arranged... but not in the way you're thinking," Comet said with a dirty look in his eye. It took Speed Star a moment to register what exactly he meant, and suddenly her face flushed such a deep red that it almost matched Comet's coat. He would have said something else if a hoof hadn't suddenly swung out and hooked him right in the jaw, sending him flat to the cloud.

"Okay...that I'll allow," Jetstream chuckled. "Move out, cadets." The group began to disperse, Speed being the first one to get away from him.

Why did I hit him!? Why would I DO that to someone I like so much!? All he did was make a dirty joke! C'mon, Speed you gotta grow up! she yelled internally as she quickly flew off in an attempt to hide her blush.

3

Comet looked up at her, watching Speed Star fly off as he held a hoof to his jaw. "Yeah, she totally digs me."

Starfire ran a hoof across his face, breathing deeply to calm down. “For the love of Celestia, Comet. Is being insufferable your special talent?”

"I'll tell you what's insufferable: letting a cute mare like that get away. Nice going, 'Captain,'" Comet said, glowering at him.

If ever in his life Starfire were to have an aneurism, it would have been at that very moment. Up to his last days on Equestria, he’d still swear he felt a blood vessel burst in the back of his head. “I... was just... trying to establish... relations,” he said slowly, taking deeper breaths and grinding his teeth. A lifetime in Fort Hayvenworth would have been worth it just to kill this cocky cadet.

“Hey now,” Comet said, giving a cheeky grin, “I was just trying to establish relations too.”

"Comet... get out of my sight... before I do something I won't regret," Starfire growled, his face flushing a bright red from anger.

"Suit yourself. I'm gonna go see where that cutie went... Maybe you wouldn't be such an ass if YOU had a mare," he said. His eyes went wide as his commander finally snapped, lunging at him. Comet tore off into the sky, Starfire in hot pursuit. "HEY, HEY, I WAS JUST KIDDING!"

"WE'LL SEE WHO'S KIDDING WHEN I'M WEARING YOU LIKE A BOOT!" Starfire roared, his vision blurring out at the edges as the thought of mashing Comet into paste filled his mind.

Shit, he's gaining! I gotta kick it up! Comet thought, pushing himself into high gear and rocketing off. Starfire still dogged him, slowly gaining speed.

"I'LL GET YOU! I'LL GET YOU, YOU ARROGANT SACK OF CRAP!" He raged, growing ever closer to his prey.

Little did they know they had been gaining altitude for a good while at this point, a group of cadets watching the altercation from below. Speed Star had rejoined on Ci Squadron, having since calmed down.

"What's going on?"

"Comet finally pissed off the Captain enough. He'd better hope Cap doesn't catch him."

Oh dear, please don't do anything stupid Comet... she thought.

When the two pegasi reached an altitude where they could no longer climb (or breathe), they both turned back. Comet felt himself accelerating far past any speed he had ever achieved, leaving Starfire in the dust. "Ohcrapohcrapohcrap!"

Without warning, a cone of bright red flame formed around Comet, turning him into an absurdly-fast line of flame descending from the heavens. The cadets on the ground watched in awe, Speed Star's jaw hanging slack off her face. As his speed only grew higher and higher, the flame changed from a deep red to a bright blue. A loud explosion cued a massive burst of speed, a star of blue flame expanding outward as feathers fell off his wings, trailing off into smaller streaks and burning up.

He looked just as his name implied - he had become a comet.

4

Son of a griffon! Starfire mouthed, levelling out and bleeding off his speed. Any normal pegasi (such as him) would have passed out by now from a pure vertical descent at such a high rate of speed. It had taken all he had just to pull up and stay conscious.

Either that birdbrain was crazy, suicidal, or he really could fly.

Starfire descended in a corkscrew, keeping a wide berth and leveling his breathing to compensate for the changing atmospheric pressure. After only a few minutes, he reached comfortable altitude and pulled straight again, keeping the blue fireball in his vision as it swept a wide lap and pulled into a horizontal spiraling loop, either to bleed off his own speed or else to simply show off.

Pfteh, Starfire spat, half impressed and half annoyed, he might not be so useless after a- A siren from the base below cut him off, blaring at its loudest. At first, Starfire thought it was just the earth ponies panicking about the fireball blazing in their air space, probably thinking it to be some Anhalter secret weapon.

But then he saw them: two squadrons incoming at a high rate of speed, both from the Sons of Sleipnir, Anhalter’s answer to Equestria’s R.E.A.F. Instinctively he scanned them for the signature scarlet which denoted The Baron, but it was nowhere to be found.

Just harassers, he thought, trying to formulate a plan. The R.E.A.F’s own fighters could easily drive them back, but they were still scrambling to get airborne, most still out of uniform.

Fulfill his squadron’s obligation and stick by the weather mares? Or let his Thunder Chasers get some valuable combat experience? It was a judgement call he’d have to make - and quick.

He’d settle for a compromise; half would fight and half would defend. Cupping a hoof to his mouth, he shouted downwards. “Thunder! Cloud Keeper! Bolt Buck! Stay with Ci Squadron, no matter what!” He saw them nod and take off. Taking a breath, he shouted again. “Speed Strike! Comet! To me!”. Speed Strike launched in his direction, but Comet... Starfire twisted his head. The throbbing blue fireball had dissipated back into a wine-red stallion, and that stallion was now on a singular intercept course with the Sons of Sleipnir.

That birdbrain can’t take on two squadrons by himself! A panic threatened to overtake Starfire, but he willed it away, instead covering his mind with the icy blanket of combat readiness. In one deep breath, time itself seemed to slow. He saw every flap of Comet’s wings; could make out individual faces poking out of the enemy’s suits. It was the feeling he relished most when being in the sky.

I’m coming, Comet, he told himself, pushing off as Speed Strike caught up with him. Comet would intercept well before Starfire could reach him.

Just keep ‘em busy.

Chapter Three: The Lord of the Sky

1

He stood atop one of the hundreds of clouds blanketing the sky, looking on as the two Sons of Sleipnir wings raided the enemy Equestrian base. His own personal Valkyrie Wing sat behind him, silently awaiting his next command.

Baron’s face was carved from stone as he watched his desperately inexperienced recruits breach the Equestrian airspace; the enemy’s panicking siren was a blissful music to his attuned ears. He noted with amusement a singular pegasus on a direct intercept course, two others far off to the wine-red defender’s right and closing in.

The plan was simple enough: send in two squads of fresh recruits to harass the enemy and gain valuable combat experience, and just as quickly leave. Either the enemy disengages and both sides go back home with a few bloody noses or broken fetlocks; or else the enemy pursues, in which case the recruits will fly underneath a particular cloud, and the Baron himself enters the fray.

His timing couldn’t have been better - the Equestrians were relaxing, leaving only a token defense in the sky. Baron’s two squadrons would easily manage this group, bolstering their shaky morale and giving them the confidence they desperately needed. As a bonus, they’d be able to do it all by themselves, needing no help from the Baron this time. They’d return to Anhalter, brimming with genuine pride and prepared to accept real missions.

He allowed himself a small amount of such pride for his recruits, but no more. Conceit led to delusions of grandeur, which in turn led to blindness. Such arrogant blindness had led his peers to their demise - other captains who believed they were invulnerable. Whole squads had suffered the permanent consequences of a single pony’s folly.

No, he would not fall into the trappings of self-perceived flawlessness which had so recently plagued the others of his nation, including Duchess Amalia herself.

Not for the first time, he wondered why this war had been necessary in the first place. The Duchess Amalia von Anhalter had outwardly slandered Equestria’s Princess Celestia, publicly denouncing her as being a conniving thief, trading Anhalter’s precious ebony for the seemingly endless supply of salt found across Equestria. Anhalter’s own supply of the delicious mineral had long dried up under the tyranny of Duke Ironhoof, whom hoarded it only for himself and his closest companions, declaring it a ‘tax’ on his subjects. Short of civil war, there was nothing the population could have done against Ironhoof’s cruelty.

Much of Anhalter still lay pockmarked with caves where citizens desperately carved out mines in order to locate more; but aside from a few limited veins, nothing was ever found. Extracting salt from the northern Totes Meer Sea was a futile joke. Not enough could ever be produced to satisfy the entire population, whether through magic, machines, or a combination thereof.

It wasn’t until the mad Duke was ousted and replaced that Celestia stepped forward with the offer of trading Equestria’s salt for ebony, a wood as rare to Equestria as the salt was to Anhalter.

For a time, the two nations enjoyed a healthy peace. Art of all forms were shared and even intertwined, ponies from each place would own vacation homes in the other land, and both economies boomed thanks to Bits being universally-accepted currency.

And only a few months ago it all went to hell when Duchess Amalia took over from her father. With the demand for salt being overly satisfied thanks to generous imports from Celestia, Duchess Amalia began to believe there was no longer a reason to share her precious black wood.

Baron frowned at the chain of events, coming back to only one conclusion: greed had twisted the Duchess’ mind. Of course, the Princess retaliated with an air of wounded pride, answering Amalia’s call to battle with her own forces.

The scarlet stallion himself didn’t particularly see Equestria as an enemy, and therefore demanded of his Valkyrie Wing that none of them should ever be killed in battle... but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a little fun in the way of bloody scuffles. Today, however, he was confident that his squadron wouldn’t even have to lift a hoof.

Coming up from his train of thought, Baron watched as his two rookie squadrons finally engaged with that single, wine-red stallion.

2

Comet Streak gritted his teeth, rushing straight into the center of the eight incoming pegasi. His plan was simple, if not slightly insane: keep them busy while the fighter squadrons scrambled to get airborne. Starfire and the others would join on him soon, but for now it was all up to him.

He cocked both back legs, flying above the nearest target and blasting out, making contact with the back of the Anhalteri’s head. Sparing no time to see if his attack did any real damage, Comet Streak broke straight up with a swarm of angry enemies trailing him in a threatening spiral.

With a head start from the momentum of both his natural speed and kicking off the hapless pegasus, Comet Streak was too far ahead of his pursuers to pull off a feint maneuver. Instead, he risked diving into a half-loop, aware that if his timing was off even slightly, both Anhalter squadrons would have him in their clutches.

Come on, Captain, he pleaded, all pretenses of idiocy tossed aside as he fell into the icy, blissful state of combat readiness. He bit his lower lip to collect his wits - there was no way he’d be able to bring down all seven remaining pegasi. One or two more, perhaps, but the others would catch on quickly.

His only other option was to keep them on his tail. Unfortunately, they’d cut him off somewhere in this majestic aerial dance. The trick he pulled to outrun Starfire may have been his own special talent, but it had a limit. Once had already stressed his body - for the past few minutes he had been more panting than breathing. Another attempt would likely crush him from the sheer pressure.

Fight or flight, they’d eventually have him.

3

Starfire and Speed Strike burned toward the action, preparing to even the odds for their squadmate. The bronze captain watched as one of the Anhalteri limped away, still leaving his Thunder Chasers at a seven-to-three disadvantage. By now, the base would be at full alert, scrambling the actual fighters to come and take over. Unfortunately, it would take another five minutes for them to get suited up and airborne.

And in battle, five minutes could mean a lifetime.

There was no more time to think as Comet Streak’s backup joined the fray, each knocking down a pony before the enemy group knew what happened. Starfire dodged a hoof aiming for his head, but couldn’t avoid the swift kick immediately afterward, connecting with his gut. He retched and kicked out his own leg, feeling a wing’s fragile bone structure crumble under his hoof with a sickening crunch, followed by a string of Anhalter swears. A shadow blanketed Starfire from behind. He could feel the hard hoof looming ever closer, with no time to dodge it. He twisted in midair, hoping to at least face his aggressor...

… And suddenly the pony was barreled into by a red blur. “You owe me one!” Comet Streak shouted above the commotion, giving his captain a wink.

“You kidding?” Starfire replied with a grin. “Drinks are on me when we’re back on the ground!”

“That might be sooner than we think, Captain. They’re retreating!” Indeed the remaining enemies broke off, helping their injured friends as best they could and taking off back in the direction of Anhalter.

“Hah!” Comet Streak pumped a hoof in the air in a juvenile gesture of victory. “I wasn’t worried for a second.”

“No,” Starfire agreed, a worried look crossing his face. “But I am now...”

“Wha-” Comet Streak followed his captain’s gaze, and suddenly understood. An icy chill ran down his spine as a certain scarlet object drew closer and closer, backed by three others.

Baron was headed straight for them.

4

He frowned, silently watching from his perch as the raid fell apart. The two uncoordinated squadrons had toyed with the single Equestrian for too long, allowing his reinforcements to arrive and level the field. The rookies had felt security in their greater numbers, and as a result were going to be sent back home with their tails between their legs. The Baron made a mental note to reprimand each one individually.

But that was for later.

Valkyrie Wing was poised and ready to fly the very second Baron spread his large wings out. He stood still for a second, letting the gentle breeze tickle his scarlet feathers. With no warning, he lept from the cloud, catching the air and aiming straight toward the Equestrians.

The rest of Valkyrie Wing followed suit, marking Baron’s flowing, sun-yellow scarf as their reference. By now, they had been under his command long enough to understand his body language. Every movement he made had a purpose, and they either quickly learned the signs or were left behind.

Baron set his sights on the interfering Equestrian’s bronze muzzle that stuck out from his ragged suit, identifying the pegasus as someone in relative command.

His mark set, Baron led his Valkyrie Wing once more into battle.

5

Starfire’s heart caught in his throat as he noted Baron’s trajectory - straight ahead, the Anhalter Ace deadlocking his eyes with the Equestrian. The rest of the base would be up in the sky by now, but it’d be far too late - Baron would grind him to a pulp before then, if given the chance.

He had no choice but to fight. Even a legendary Ace wasn’t infallible, although the ever-increasing myth surrounding the scarlet stallion would suggest otherwise.

Starfire waved to his Thunder Chasers, ushering them into formation, and into a battle already lost.

6

Baron burst past his target, pulling up into a steep, rolling vertical climb. At some unseen mark, he pivoted down and shot to Starfire as a scarlet missile, rear legs cocked. Baron could feel the bronze stallion’s tremors as he brushed past, kicking out with both legs.

Only the side of one hoof made contact - Starfire saw the attack coming, and twisted away. Baron fell into a half-loop, righting himself from his upside-down position and rocketing upwards to gain the advantage of altitude once again.

7

Starfire saw through the ploy, and was on the Anhalter pony’s tail, keeping just out of reach of those deadly hooves. Baron swung his rump forward, reversing his wing beats and stopping mid-flight. Starfire over-shot his target, and brought himself around in a tight left circle.

But the Baron’s wings were stronger - he caught up to the Equestrian, keeping relative speed right above him and straddling his target with both back legs, and proceeded box his head from side-to-side.

Starfire tried to shake, jink, dodge - all to no avail. He was caught, and he knew it. He threw a shoulder into Baron’s gut, but the Ace held on. He closed his eyes, but the world continued to spin as a result from the punishment his head was receiving.

He could feel Baron readying for the final blow that would knock him out, but it never came.

8

Baron grunted as he was barrelled in the side by a steel-gray missile, losing his grip on the Equestrian captain and sent sprawling in the sky. Regaining his balance, he flipped right-side-up just in time for his head to catch a pair of steel hooves. Blood trickled out of his mouth; a tooth rattled somewhere.

He swung low, landing his attacker in the gut. The other pony faltered for only a second, but it was all that Baron needed. He turned tail before the Equestrian could recover and continue the barrage, bolting skyward and whistling for his Valkyrie Wing. They reformed gladly - each had their own bruises and nicks to speak of from the surprise reinforcements.

Baron glanced back as Valkyrie Wing flew away, locking eyes with the pony who had attacked him. Clad in a ragged, torn up blue and yellow suit, a coat of steel if his muzzle was any indication, with his mane and tail a noticeably darker shade.

He would learn this pony’s name. And then, he would crush him.

9

“Th... thunder,” Starfire panted, trying to catch his breath. The skirmish was long over by the time the fighter groups had entered, and so were left to escort the weary Thunder Chasers back home. All six of them, Starfire had noted.

They sat on the dirt, panting and heaving. Ci Squadron had run up to check on their escorts - one mare in particular was galloping her way forward, before throwing herself at Speed Strike.

“I’m so glad you’re safe!” Speed Star all but cried, hugging the stallion tightly. Off to the side, Comet Streak felt his face flatten - he had sort of liked the mare, just because she was both shy and spunky. And he had been positive that she liked him all the more.

“Well,” he finally said, sauntering up to Speed Strike and slapping him on the shoulder. “I’m glad you found a marefriend. She’s a real keeper.”

“Wha-?”

“Marefriend?” Speed Star blurted out, almost snickering at the very idea. “Comet, you dope! I’m not his marefriend. He’s my brother!”

“Brother!?” Comet’s head pivoted, unable to process this new information.

“Well duh!” Speed Star giggled. “I thought it was obvious? ‘Speed Star, Speed Strike’. He’s my big brother.”

“And you’re my bigger sister,” Speed Strike said, completing their own special in-joke and ruffling the mare’s mane.

Comet Streak merely sat on the dirt, jaw agape, before he fell backwards, roaring with laughter.

10

“Thunder,” Starfire repeated, finally catching his bearings. The others looked over, noting with some uncertainty the sternness in the Captain’s voice.

“I gave you specific orders,” he began just loud enough for the small group to hear, “to stay behind, no matter what, and defend our consorts.” As if Thunder’s already fragile heart couldn’t take anymore excitement, Starfire suddenly burst into a bright smile.

“And by Celestia am I glad you disobeyed me. Thanks for pulling Baron off of me.”

“I-I-I” Thunder’s face grew pale.

“Not to mention you kicked his flank clear across the moon. Come on, gang! I dunno about you, but I need a shower.”

“You go on ahead, Cap,” Comet Streak said with a sly grin, shifting his eyes over to Speed Star. “I have a mare to tease with my awesomene- OW!” The two groups laughed as, once again, Speed Star decked Comet Streak, sending him straight to the ground.

“Yeah,” he said, picking himself up as the mares walked away, all of them giggling. “She totally digs me.”

Chapter Four: Debriefing

1

The debriefing was short and unpleasant.

“Two full wings, plus Baron and his Valkyries, right on our doorstep.” The General exhaled an exasperated grunt, skimming over the official papers. Starfire had written up the report of the morning’s Anhalteri attack during his brief recovery, though questions and speculation still remained.

“I can only think, sir,” Starfire spoke up, catching the General’s eye, “that Baron was training new cadets. It’s the only thing that explains our victory. The tables were turned when the Valkyries entered the fray - we would have lost if Thunder hadn’t blindsided Baron and caused him to retreat.”

The General shook his head, his mouth clenching as he frowned. “It doesn’t make sense. Why would Baron fly two full wings across the entire Round Table, and attack us just to train his cadets? No, there was more to it than that.”

Starfire’s frown matched his Commanding Officer’s own, neither stallion able to come up with an answer. No, it didn’t make sense, at all.

The Round Table was an arduous hundred mile expanse of arid rock; a red valley completely ringed by towering, snow-capped mountains. The impressive geological formation served as the center of the Equus Continent, separating the multiple pony nations from each other. Paths were carved long ago into the side of the mountains, allowing the Round Table to act as a trade hub between the nations of Equestria to the West, Anhalter to the East, and Stabilchnaya to the frigid North.

Odd sprouts of settlements and trade outposts marked the copper-red land in random, spread out locations; the outposts served as rest areas for the various caravans of goods, and often served the relatively small settlements as ponies of all nationalities eked out their existence in the lawless land. The lack of any natural resource save for red dust, sagebrush, and an unrelenting sun only allowed most of these places to reach a peak population of a single hundred, with only one or two ever reaching full Town status.

So why would Baron risk that many soldiers across such a vast expanse for simple training?

Starfire’s eyebrows furrowed as another thought struck him. “Sir, could they have been... scouting?”

“Scouting...” the General repeated, swishing the very word in his mouth as though it were a fine wine. “Are you suggesting that the Duchess is preparing for a full-scale attack against Equestria?”

“Seems that way, sir.” Starfire’s lips pursed, forming a very thin line across his muzzle. Soon enough, reports from the other camps lining the Equestrian border would file in, all of them mentioning a minor attack that had been easily staved off. Once word got around that Baron himself had been held at bay, the morale would be high. Afterwards, out of nowhere, the full brunt of the Sons of Sleipnir would appear. The battles would be tough; the casualties in the hundreds.

Just because Baron didn’t like to kill didn’t mean that the other Anhalteri pegasi were as lenient.

“Is it about time we started encroaching upon the Round Table, sir?” Starfire suggested, already knowing it was a useless idea.

“With what?” the General shot back, his frustration at the entire situation finding itself a target in the young stallion before him. “You know damn well we don’t have the supplies to survive in that barren hovel yet. The convoy doesn’t arrive for another week.”

“But the settlements...”

“The settlements are refusing to aid either side!” The General slammed his hoof down onto the desk; he’d already thought of every scenario the younger captain has voiced. “Why do you think Anhalter is strong-hoofing Stabilchnaya for their caravans!?”

“They’re what!?” Starfire sat with a look of pure shock - it must have been very recent news, otherwise the entire camp would have been abuzz with rumors and hearsay.

The General sighed, knowing he’d said too much and knowing it was too late to take it back. He brought his hooves up to his head, gently massaging the temples to alleviate the building migraine. “Our own scouts in the various settlements have reported that Anhalteri foot soldiers have begun rerouting Stabilchnayan caravans, either by bribery or force. The Duchess is doing this discreetly, so the Stabilchnayan president has no clue.”

Starfire frowned as he tried to work the entire process through his mind. “But how does that affect us, besides Anhalter getting more food? Our supplies are run through the security of Britanneigh.” The General, however, shook his head at once.

“Most caravans prefer using the Round Table, as it’s a veritable shortcut. Britanneigh is safe, but long... and, well, to be blunt it’s boring. As crazy as it sounds, the wild and lawless frontier of the Round Table gives a caravan their excitement. There was a lot of discontent when Celestia ordered all Equestrian trade to immediately halt activity through the Round Table and take the longer detour.”

“Supply thieving, scouting party, impromptu training...” Starfire frowned, not liking the news at all. “It’s all leading back into a massive invasion.”

“It seems that way,” the General agreed, rubbing his chin. “I need time to think. But...” the older stallion looked up, watching as Starfire made his way for the exit after being clearly dismissed.

“But have the camp ready to pull out at a moment’s notice.”

2

Baron touched down onto the Dunnswick Palace’s granite surface, a scowl adorning his rigid face that had planted itself after the morning’s attack and refused to leave. Everything had gone according to plan, but that didn’t mean he had to like the plan from the start. It was... wrong to use fresh cadets like simple tools, and yet that’s what he had done.

It could have been a simple scouting mission; Baron easily found refuge on a cloud, with the Equestrians having no idea he was even there. But no. The Duchess wanted more. Her Majesty wanted the Equestrians to feel good about themselves; to allow their morale to be at its peak before she utterly crushed them. How all the more beautiful it would be when their matriarch saw Baron’s black eye and bruised wing. That was not in the plan. That had been a surprise attack, and Baron loathed being surprised. Revenge would be sought - Baron had to remind himself yet again of his own ethics. He’d never slay an enemy combatant with his own hoof, but nowhere in his ‘Book of Ethics’ was it written that he couldn’t pummel them into utter submission.

Let the Equestrians have their victory, then. He would have his soon enough. The Duchess would stop with her silly games and get on with her plan, and then Baron would be let loose.

“So,” one of the other Wing Captains sneered in their naturally gruff Anhalteri dialect. “The mighty Baron is a mortal after all.”

“Enough,” Baron growled menacingly, wrapping the excess of his silken yellow scarf around his neck, lest he accidentally trip over it. He walked past the mocking captain, but not before kicking out and landing a blow to the stallion’s shoulder, grinning as he heard a yelp of both pain and anger behind him.

“Baron von Himmel,” a unicorn guard stepped in front of the scarlet stallion, his gaze stern enough to cut through diamond. “Her Majesty, the Royal Duchess Amalia von Anhalter wishes to speak to you in regards to your recent operation. You will be escorted...” The guard looked over Baron’s shoulder, noting the rest of the legendary Valkyrie Wing. “... Alone.”

Baron nodded his understanding. “Valkyries, rest. Have a drink waiting for me at the tavern, if you do not mind. I will be along shortly.”

Satisfied that all unnecessary ponies had dispersed, the guard led Baron into the grandiose Palace of Dunnswick. The palace itself rivaled Canterlot’s very own in sheer scale, but the similarities ended there. Dunnswick’s spires were tall and flat-topped, all of them adorned by battlements, giving the entire structure the illusion of inverted teeth. The architecture itself was rough and square, a stark contrast to Canterlot’s own streamlined, soft features.

Ornate pillars housing eternal flames lit up the narrow corridor as Baron was led to the Duchess’ Grand Chambers. They were met with a pair of guards, both unicorns, and a large set of ebony doors, crafted from the very black forests that lay on the northern lands of Anhalter. As many times as Baron had entered this structure, he still felt a sense of wonder, marvelling at how intricate it was. The back of his mind vaguely wondered if Canterlot’s own palace was just as majestic. He’d love to see it someday, if circumstances allowed it.

“Her Majesty is expecting you.” Both guards stepped aside, their horns respectively emanating red and blue, both magics forming together and casting a violet cloud onto the door. Baron could see veins bulging from either guard’s necks as they strained to swing open the heavy Ironwood doors. He alone stepped past the gasping and heaving guards, as only those called upon could be in the presence of Her Majesty. Job complete, the escort returned to his post at the palace gates.

“Baron!” The silken voice bounced off the dimly-lit walls of the Grand Chambers, punctuated by the loud echo of the Ironwood doors slamming shut again. The scarlet stallion walked further into the room, his eyes deadlocked on the throne and its sole occupant.

Duchess Amalia von Anhalter lazed in her throne, an object of wood as black as the doors he had entered through. A simple, inornate crown adorned her head, coiled around her impressive horn. She sat in such a manner that her wings could flare out if she chose them to, giving her the illusion of size.

Always contemplating, Baron sardonically wondered the last time Her Majesty had actually used her wings, and not simply extended them out as a threat or scare tactic.

“My favorite weapon returns.” The Duchess offered Baron a tight smile. There are daggers in that smile, he thought as he returned the favor.

“And what’s this?” She gasped in false surprise as she witnessed the discoloration around his eyelid. She stood up, an act that seemed to take an extreme amount of effort, and deliberately walked over to the stock-still stallion. “The Equestrians harmed my precious Baron?”

By all rights, he should have been honored by her gesture. It was rare indeed that the Duchess would pick herself up and stand at the same level of another. Instead of pride, however, he felt revulsion. He wanted nothing more than to leave, before he was suffocated by the malice oozing off of her.

He stayed himself, not daring to even tremble. “It is nothing, your Majesty. I must be reminded every now and again that I am not invincible.”

“Indeed.” She stopped in front of him, leveling her gaze to meet his. “And the mission?”

Baron simply frowned, discontent lining his rugged face.

The Duchess raised a curious, if not amused, eyebrow. “You disagree with my plan?”

     “I do,” Baron replied. It was now or never, and too late to back out. To do so would be cowardice. “There is no cause for this damned war. Sleipnir Himself would never-”

“Do not bring up the Old God to me,” the Duchess snarled, glaring into Baron’s eyes. “The Old God is false and meaningless.”

Baron’s heart caught in a vice as he stepped back in shock and horror. “Sacrilege,” he whispered, feeling his stomach freefall into a bottomless pit. His horror turned to anger, turned to rage. “How DARE you blaspheme against Lord Sleipnir!?” He grunted as a hoof swung into the side of his already-swelling face.

I am here and He is not!” Duchess Amalia bellowed, magically amplifying her voice to near-deafening levels. Her wings flared out to their fullest extent, rigid with fury. “So long as you are under my rule, you will do as I command or you will be executed!”

Baron cowered, blanketed in the first true fear he had ever felt. He dropped his head in a submissive bow. “Yes, your Majesty.”

"...Stay your wretched little tongue, Amalia,” a deep voiced commanded from nowhere and everywhere. “I am the ruler of this kingdom, and you only play with our subjects because I allow you to do so. If I had not chosen you as my Duchess when I usurped the throne, you would have been hanging from the gallows much like the previous Duke. You may have organized the rebellion that overthrew the previous rule, but it was I that inherited the throne, not you. And in my castle and country, Lord Sleipnir's name shall not be torn asunder by anypony whilst I draw breath... especially not by you."

Baron felt a cold chill run through his heart. Never had he heard anypony speak in such a way to the Duchess. Surely, this pony knows no fear... He then understood why a moment later. From behind a curtain emerged a stallion with a wildly flowing mane that was black as a moonless night and just as thick. He stood a good foot taller than Her Majesty, his shoulders broad and powerful. His deep blue coat was punctuated by two burning orange irises. His flank was adorned with a cutie mark of two crossed swords accentuated with barbed wire. He then turned his withering gaze on the Baron.

"State your business." The Duke’s tone was a perfect mixture of command and respect.

“The mission was accomplished threefold,” Baron answered carefully, not daring to speak out of line. “I have seen one of their encampments and gauged their strength; two Wings have gained valuable experience; and the Equestrians’ morale is at its peak after they ran me off.” He exhaled a discontented sigh. “If other reports are the same, then Equestria will be utterly devastated both spiritually and physically against your superior force.”

“My superior force...” the Duke echoed, deliberately twisting his head to meet his wife, who noticeably winced upon falling under his attention. “I was not aware of any plans for an assault. How convenient that it should slip your rotten mind, my dear.”

“Well, I... I... You see...” Amalia stammered, but she could not bring herself to full coherency.

“I see that you are a fool!” the Duke snarled, his wings flaring to their fullest extent. A gleam of light on the tip of the Duke’s wing caught Baron’s eye, and he traced the edge of the stallion’s appendage, noting the snug, ornate decoration that gave the Duke’s wings a razor-sharp appearance.

No. Not just decoration. Baron silently gulped as he examined the wing further. This stallion could rip a pony to shreds merely with his wings...

“Baron!” the Duke commanded not for the first time. With a violent shake of his head, the scarlet pegasus brought himself back to reality.

“Sire?”

“You are dismissed. You have done well for me, but there is much that I must discuss with my wife in private.”

Amalia’s venomous glare at Baron quickly vanished as her husband brought his full attention back onto her.

“Very much, indeed.”