“Let’s go over it one more time, just to be sure,” Felix said, tapping a hoof to the fuel display screen for the third time that morning. She was sitting in my old First Officer’s seat, her big blue eyes darting between the various screens, dials and gauges of the Airbus cockpit. She had figured out how to use some of the more basic functions of the ECAM a hell of a lot faster than I had. Not gonna lie—I was a little salty.

“Stop making me look incompetent, you nerd,” I huffed. She ignored me, instead reciting the calculations we’d prepared the night before, whilst flicking through a few of the other info screens.

“It’s around four hundred and thirteen nautical miles to Foal Mountain, and we’ll burn about thirty three and a half thousand Earth pounds of fuel, give or take. That leaves us roughly eleven thousand for go-arounds. There’s no other airfield in our range, so you’d better not fuck up the landing.”

“You’re starting to sound like Captain Thomas.”

Felix levelled me with a frown. “Your dead co-worker?”

“Yeah. He was an insufferable dictator, too. God rest his soul.”

“Ugh. I’m serious Jack—I can’t just pull us out of harm’s way if things don’t go to plan,” she retorted, jabbing the APU bleed air switch and throwing me a scathing look.

I snorted. “Bet you could, though.”

Felix sighed exasperatedly. “Yes, I could just teleport us. I can’t, however, teleport the whole damn plane!”

A slightly windswept Spitfire flew up to the cockpit windows and gave the signal to start the engines. The routine action of moving my hand up to the ignition mode dial was unexpectedly interrupted by something warm, soft, and covered in fine fur. Felix quickly withdrew her hoof. I retracted my hand as though I’d just grabbed an electric fence. Neither of us had managed to toggle the dial to ignition mode.

My brain seemed to crash for a moment, trying to figure out why such slight contact had turned out to be so damned awkward. I would have said something—changed the subject, lightened the mood. The power of speech, however, had bizarrely abandoned me.

Ethereal wind chimes, followed by a reassuring “click”. Felix held the dial with her magic, and the unmistakable sound of engine one charging for ignition rang through the cockpit. She gave me a peculiar little smile as the turbofan fired up, just as well as it always used to.

I grinned. “You did it. In four weeks, no less.”

“We’ll have to keep a close watch on it. Bolting it back on with minimal testing is asking for trouble.”

After we got the other three engines running, I checked the tail cam. The four mooring ropes attached to the landing gear were pulled taught. With maximum reverse thrust applied, the jet began to roll back away from the barracks.

We were to be flanked by four Raptors, for “insurance,” as Spitfire had claimed. I had no idea what a griffin attack would look like, but I knew I wasn’t particularly keen on finding out. After a short delay while the mooring lines were being removed, and an even shorter stint of taxiing, we were lined up at the edge of the runway.

The cockpit door swung open, revealing a mildly flustered looking Jessica, wearing her flight attendant uniform. “Do you guys need anything?” she asked, before throwing me an annoyed glance. “I told you to wear your hat!” she exclaimed, snatching it up off the center console and slapping it down on my head. She had been annoyingly persistent in her quest to “make a good impression” for the princesses, even threatening to tell Warmfront that I secretly wanted private lessons on how to “be the best comfort stallion I could be” if I didn’t wear my uniform.

“It’s uncomfortable!” I shot back at her, though I didn’t dare remove it. Her threat was way below the belt.

“It’s more professional to wear the full uniform. Spitfire agrees.”

I scowled. “So?”

“And Fleetfoot.” She grinned.

I scowled even more.

“For what it’s worth, I think you look pretty dapper wearing it,” Felix chimed in, flashing that weapons-grade smile of hers.

“Ugh. Fine, I’ll wear it, okay?” I muttered, ignoring my stupid heart doing backflips in my chest.

Satisfied, Jessica smiled. “Knew you’d be able to get him to wear it,” she said, giving a slight nod to the unicorn.

“And just what’s that supposed to mean?” I accosted, but she’d already left the cockpit, closing the door behind her. Goddamn smartass trolley wench.

Felix made quite the show of performing the pre-flight control surface checks, manipulating the flight stick and rudder pedals with her magic and determinedly not looking in my direction. I could see her smiling from the corner of my eye.

Ignoring the thoughts barreling through my mind, I focused on the ailerons visible on the tail-cam monitor moving up and down. The flaps and slats weren’t currently set, so I flicked the lever to the one plus F takeoff configuration. They slowly extended into place on the monitor, just as the cockpit door burst open again.

I turned, fully intent on getting an answer out of Jessica. Only, it wasn’t Jessica.

“Felicity, darling! I saved you a seat. Or rather, I would have, if this ship had any.”

Felix’s smile vanished. “I have a seat. I’m currently sitting in it,” the mare deadpanned.

Reginald turned his snout up. “You’d rather sit with the help?”

I gave him an incredulous look. “Could you possibly be any more obnoxious?” I asked, but Felix held up a hoof.

“Reginald—listen carefully, because I’m only going to say this once. Spitfire personally asked me to co-pilot the ship with Jack, mainly because nopony else knows how. And yes, she did ask Jessica, Jason, and even Leanne, first, but they all said they’d be as much use as any pony. So no, I can’t sit with you like I normally do on transfer flights, okay?”

“But… you’re always hanging around with him these days!”

Cue filthy look. There it is. Ahh, that salty goodness.

“Reg, it’s my job. You can go and complain to Spitfire if you like, but she probably won’t take kindly to-”

“-to what, exactly?”

Reginald visibly flinched, and hastily stepped aside to allow Spitfire into the cockpit. The Captain coolly removed her shades and stowed them under a wing, waiting for an answer.

Felix faltered for a split second. “Reg was just inquiring about seating arrangements.”

Spitfire gave the stallion a bemused look. “Well, considering the only two seats on the ship are needed by the pilots, I’d say you're shit out of luck, Lieutenant,” she chuckled, roughly smacking Reg on the shoulder with a forehoof. “There are beds in the cabin crew rest area that Jessica requested we not rip out. If you really need a comfortable journey, you could go ask her if you can take a nap in one of them.”

Evidently too scared to turn down a suggestion from a Captain, Reginald trotted from the cockpit without another word. Spitfire waited until he was out of earshot before turning to me.

“We’ve just been cleared for takeoff. We shouldn’t run into any trouble en-route, but if we do, let the gunners and Raptors deal with it,” she said, slipping her shades back on. “ I’ll be out front, so just stick on my six, and don’t deviate course.”

“Aye aye, Capt’n!” I cried, saluting with enthusiasm.

Thankfully, Spitfire merely rolled her eyes at the mockery. “Make sure he behaves himself, for Celestia’s sake,” she added to Felix, before turning to the door. “Let’s get moving.”

“Would you like to do the honours?” I asked Felix, once Spitfire had left.

The unicorn turned to gaze at me, brow slowly rising. “What? Deprive you of the thrill of pushing the throttles forward after an excruciating hiatus from flying, then forever be reminded of said depriving whenever you need a favour?” She grinned.

I rolled my eyes. “Wasn’t my game, but whatever.” I pushed the throttles to maximum.

The jet lurched, the engines spooling up to a loud roaring whine. Felix was pressed into the seat back by the acceleration, and a few shrieks and the sound of scraping hooves came from the cabin. I grabbed the tannoy microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, mares and stallions, welcome to Air-Horse One. I haven’t bothered turning the fasten seatbelt sign on, seeing as there aren't any seats, but hey—this ain’t a luxury liner anymore thanks to Captain Horse Feathers.”

Felix gave me an incredulous look, slapping a forehoof to her face. I shot her a grin, pulling back on the flight stick. The Airbus rotated up off the runway and began to climb.

“I should remind you all that this is still a non-smoking flight, so if any of you see Leanne sparking up, be sure to kick her in the teeth. Might even be doing her a favour. I happen to have it on good authority that her nickname was ‘Beaver Chops’ when she was in school.”

“That’s enough.” Felix snatched the microphone from my hand with her telekinesis.

“What? I was only joking,” I chuckled, easing the stick to the right to keep in line with Spitfire’s ass.

“No, there’s joking, then there’s being an asshole,” she snapped, placing the microphone back in its holster. “You know she has enough trouble fitting in already.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be telling me! Go say it to her, preferably without the sarcasm. I can handle things here.”

“Alright, jeez, woman,” I muttered, clambering up out of my seat.

Felix took the controls, using her magic to manipulate them as she had done on the ground. It suited me, in all honesty. Flying manually in a straight line with nothing but Spitfire’s ass to look at was kind of a drag.

“Let me know if you need me,” I yawned, absentmindedly stretching my arms. Felix waved a forehoof, her eyes still surveying the ECAM between glances at Spitfire’s position through the windshield.

The lower deck cabin had been fitted with temporary safety harnesses—essentially just modified seat belts that were anchored to the wall. A few ponies were still wearing them, but most had evidently discarded them after takeoff. They sat in small groups on the cabin floor, chatting away to each other. Jessica and Leanne were sat on the forward staircase, along with Warmfront.

I wasted a few moments re-checking the newly repaired exit door—even though both Felix and I had already done it about four times before the flight—before biting my tongue and strolling over to them.

Leanne glared daggers on catching sight of me. Jessica just had a smirk on her face. “She made you come apologise, didn’t she?”

I scowled. “No! I just thought I’d come back here and make sure Leanne knew I was only joking,” I gave what I hoped was an apologetic nod in Leanne’s general direction.

She flipped me the bird, much to Warmfront’s amusement. “I’d be jumping through hoops as well if I had even the tiniest shot with Felix,” he chuckled.

“Shut it, Pimp Hoof!” I growled, just as a disturbance at the back of the plane caught my eye.

Disregarding Warmfront’s continued guffawing, I headed for the rear of the jet. Raindrops appeared to be in a very real fight with a large red pegasus stallion. He was roughly twice the size of her, had a short blonde mane and tail, and what looked like a cyclone as a cutie mark. Several of the other pegasi had gathered round and were jeering at the pair. Not one of them was attempting to help her.

“Hey!” I yelled, but it fell on deaf ears. Roughly shoving a silver-coated mare aside, I stepped into the fray just as the stallion brought his forehooves down on her face.

“HEY!”

Blood burst from Raindrops’ muzzle, showering the deck with drops of red. Without even thinking, I grabbed the stallion by the back of the mane, grabbing his throat with my other hand. With a heave that nearly snapped my spine, I lifted him clean off of Raindrops, slamming the top of his head into the side of the aft staircase for good measure.

He was quick to recover, however. Before I knew it, he’d landed a well aimed kick to my chest. Pain exploded through my ribcage. I could’ve sworn I’d heard an audible crack. Toppling back onto my ass, I clutched my chest, gritting my teeth. The stallion reared up, a manic gleam in his eye. “She’s mine, alien freak!”

Raindrops dived on top of me, spreading her wings protectively. She needn’t have bothered.

CRACK.

The stallion's head suddenly whipped to the side so fast I could’ve sworn it had teleported. He crumpled into a pitiful heap of unconsciousness before Fleetfoot’s hind legs had even touched back down again.

“GET THE BUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT! ALL OF YOU!”

Nearly every pony on the lower deck had scrambled up the two staircases before Fleetfoot had even finished speaking… Or shouting, as the case was. Even Raindrops attempted to flee, but I latched onto her. Hurt like a motherfucker, but I had to know she was okay.

Jessica and Leanne hurried over, followed by Warmfront, though the stallion was keeping his distance somewhat. “Jack! Raindrops! Are you okay?” Jessica yelled, dropping to her knees beside us. She pulled a hankerchief out of her uniform breast pocket and began mopping up Rainy’s muzzle.

“Warmfront,” Fleetfoot practically growled, causing him to jump a couple of inches into the air. “Make sure this idiot doesn’t die. When he wakes up, tell him to expect a shitstorm.” She turned her back to both stallions, ears flicking in agitation. “Raindrops, are you hurt?”

“No, he just bust my lip,” Raindrops mumbled through the handkerchief.

“I told you before, if he gets too pushy—you come to me.”

“I can handle him.”

Fleetfoot raised an eyebrow. “Clearly.”

Raindrops scowled, before grimacing, bringing a forehoof to her swollen lip.

“And you,” Fleetfoot snapped, training her fuchsia eyes on me. “If you want to play the hero, at least finish the job before you get your ass beat.”

I gave her an incredulous look. “Well, I might have, but you stole the opportunity!”

Fleetfoot took a few steps forward. From my viewpoint sitting on the floor, she practically towered over me. “What? You think I’m just going to stand and watch you get beat up by some egotistical boneheaded prick?”

“Well, no.” But I could've done without the emasculation, I finished in my head. Mentioning that particular thought aloud would’ve probably been a dick move on my part, seeing as she may well have just saved my ass. “Thanks,” I quietly muttered instead.

“Don’t mention it.” She grinned. “Now, take off that jacket, and open your shirt.”

I blinked. “‘Scuse me?”

Jessica, finished with tending to Raindrops, began unbuttoning my uniform jacket. “Hey! What’re you doing?” I asked, attempting to bat her hands away.

“Checking your injury, you moron!” Jessica snapped, shoving my hands aside. “He may have broken your ribs.” She unbuttoned my shirt, pulling it apart to reveal a deep, hoof-shaped bruise, mostly obscured by a thin covering of chest hair.

“I didn’t know you had fur there…” Fleetfoot observed, tilting her head to the side like a curious feline.

“Yes, and I would’ve much preferred it stayed that way,”

She raised her eyebrows a shade, and… pouted? “Really?”

I blinked. Probably rather stupidly. Was she flirting? I was pretty sure she was flirting. Thankfully, Jessica hadn’t picked up on it. Leanne had stopped paying attention ages ago and was now engrossed in her phone. Raindrops and Warmfront, however, were gazing at their superior with looks of disbelief.

Fleetfoot sat on her haunches, bringing a forehoof to lightly brush over the fuzz-coated bruise. “Felix will be able to fix this. But for the love of Celestia, don’t tell her how you got it.”

“Why not?” I asked, my eyes tracking the subtle caress of her hoof over my chest.

“Because she’ll probably turn Twister’s wings to lead, then teleport him over an active vol-”

Fleetfoot was suddenly interrupted by the periodic crackling of the public announcement tannoy. “Jack, I need you up front. We’re about to cross the boundary of the Inertia Peaks,” said Felix’s voice.

Fleetfoot lowered her hoof. “You’d better go,” she said, with an oddly forlorn look. She turned to Warmfront, who was still trying to revive the downed stallion. “Bring him upstairs. Misty Fly has some meds that should bring his sorry ass around.”

Warmfront hoisted the stallion over his back and headed up the staircase without a word.

“We’ll help!” Jessica blurted out, quickly grabbing Leanne by the arm and following Fleetfoot up the stairs. Leanne scowled, but allowed herself to be led away, her eyes mostly still fixed on her phone screen. I raised my eyebrows a shade. Even when the evidence was clear that a pony was an asshole, Jessica still couldn’t bear to see one of them hurt.

“Are you okay?” Raindrops quietly asked, shuffling over to my side.

I rounded on her. “Never mind me. What about you? How long has that prick been hassling you? Why didn’t you say anything to anypony? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Raindrops sighed, discarding the bloodied handkerchief. “Twister’s a walking stereotype—thinks he’s Cadence’s gift to mares the world over. He took a liking to me a few months ago, but I don’t go for guys with egos too big for their heads. He can be forward at times, but he’s all talk-”

“I don’t care what he thinks he is. If he ever lays a hoof on you again, I’ll tear his bastard eyes out,” I muttered, meaning every word. I’d vowed to never hurt another pony, but I’d gladly break it for that motherfucker.

Raindrops looked at me with what I assumed was a pained expression, but then she suddenly pounced right at me. I grunted in discomfort as her barrel collided with my bruised ribcage, knocking me back against the fuselage wall. Her hooves encompassed my neck, wings hugging my torso just a moment later.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I immediately forgot what it was when she pressed her lips to mine. Momentarily frozen in utter confusion, I let out a gasp that her broad tongue thoroughly took advantage of. Her taste was exceedingly pleasant, with just the barest hint of spice. An alluring cinnamon scent made its presence known at such close quarters, chasing away any reaction to her forwardness. Even the pain in my ribs seemed to melt away beneath the soft caress of her coat.

My arms automatically snaked around the mare’s back, fingers barely brushing over her flight muscles. Raindrops let out a gasp, gripping me more fiercely, her tongue easily overpowering my own. A small voice in my head suggested I put a stop to what was happening, that it was stupid, considering where we were.

The mare shifted, her hind legs eventually straddling my hips. Even through my uniform, I could feel the heat radiating from her core, followed by a small patch of dampness. Well, shit.

“Uhh, Rainy? Maybe… Maybe this isn’t the best place to be doing this? Not that I’m complaining.” Huh, weird. I am actually totally okay with this.

Raindrops broke the kiss, her roaming hooves had long since knocked my hat off, and she had fire in her eyes. She opened her mouth, but the tannoy system cut in first, along with a loud, blaring alarm.

“JACK! Get your ass up here right now before we all die in a fireball!”

“Shit.” I sprang to my feet so fast Raindrops was all but launched into the air. She caught herself with her wings, gently fluttering to her hooves. “We’ll talk later,” I called over my shoulder, sprinting toward the cockpit.

Bursting through the cockpit door, I was greeted with white-out windows and a blaring ground proximity warning. Spitfire was nowhere to be seen.

“What the hay took you so long?” Felix snapped. “Sit down and take the stick. I need to find us a way out of this fog that doesn't end in us ploughing into the side of a mountain.”

I did as she asked, taking the flight stick, though I had no idea what to do with it. “I can't see shit. Why is the ground proximity warning going off? We should be nowhere near the ground.” The instrumentation wasn’t of much help, most of it still being non-functional.

“It’s a peak. Fog can form on them nearly instantly,” she replied, closing her eyes and charging her horn. “I can sense we’re close to one of them, but if you keep us flying straight, we’ll be safe.”

“A peak?” I dumbly repeated. “This high up?”

Felix gave me a bemused look. “Yeah. Hence ‘Inertia Peaks’,” she shot back, just as the Airbus suddenly cleared the fog as if it had never been.

The next question died on my lips. A huge, snow capped land mass rose up from the fog, perilously close to our flightpath. My stomach nearly dropped out of my ass at the sight. “Fuck!” I gasped, yanking back on the flight stick in reflex.

The jet pitched upwards. Hard. We cleared the peak with only a few hundred meters to spare, the ground proximity warning finally silencing. The sky ahead was filled with what I could only describe as a collection of floating mountains. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I muttered, taking in the sight in awe.

Felix glanced over at me, a smile slowly spreading over her muzzle.

Huge chunks of land, with no visible support, hung in the air as though filled with helium. Most of them were ice-capped behemoths, but there were a few smaller ones at lower altitudes that appeared to have forest-like ecosystems living on them. “This… This is amazing…” I whispered. I’d thought Earth was beautiful, but I was only just realising that the nature of Equador was much more significant.

Felix allowed the magic running through her horn to fade. “Looks like we caught a break,” she smiled briefly, before her expression morphed into one of annoyance. “What took you so long to get here? You couldn’t have went very far.”

I blinked, only half acknowledging her words, still very much engrossed in the physics-defying scenery. Felix leaned over and tapped my upper arm with a forehoof. “Hey! You got selective hearing now, as well?”

“Oww!” I flinched, her roughhousing jostling my ribcage.

Felix frowned, her ears suddenly pointing straight up. I quickly slapped an unfazed look on my face, but the damage had already been done. “What happened back there?” she asked, her large, pretty eyes boring into my soul.

“Nothing,” I replied. Probably a little too quickly.

“Jack, Darling. You’re a terrible liar,” she purred, her voice terrifyingly sweet all of a sudden.

I clamped my mouth shut. There was no way I was going to tell her what happened. Especially after she tried to murder Cloudchaser over a little dry humping. Much to my dismay, she picked up on that little resolution all too swiftly. In a surprisingly graceful movement considering the cramped space, she fluidly crawled over the center console and into my lap.

“Uhh… Felix?” I murmured. Her hind legs straddled my hips, and she deliberately pressed her core to my groin so there was no space between us. My face reddened, my body already reacting to her touch. What the fuck has gotten into her? “Mm… k-kinda busy here, flying…” I muttered, keeping one eye glued to the windshield. The other was obscured by a large amount of silky, strawberry scented, pink flowing mane. Gods, she’s so pretty…

She shifted again, deftly aligning the contours of her lithe frame to my torso. I barely held back a wince. If only that asshole hadn’t have kicked me, I’d be able to enjoy this properly like the depraved bastard I was becoming.

I scowled. You’re a horsefucker, Jack. And a filthy hypocrite to boot. I didn’t care. I wanted her too much. All this time, this was all she had to do. Fuck. Her eyes are glowing. Why are her eyes glowing? Her cheek nuzzled against mine, fur softer than silk gliding over my burning face. My cock twitched involuntarily, having long since reached full mast. She had to have felt it. Something sharp gently brushed over my exposed neck, her hot, sweet breath adding to my addiction.

“Qui vous a fait cela?” she breathed, her voice bearing a knife-edge quality that sent goosebumps down the back of my neck.

“I… Wh-What?” That sounded like… French? With the accent to boot? The fuck did that come from?

I was vaguely aware of Spitfire reclaiming her position in front of the jet, and a soaring Raptor pulling off into the distance. The pegasus glanced back a couple of times, but I had no idea if she could see what was going on in the cockpit.

“Qui vous a fait cela?” Felix repeated, her tongue joining the sharp pinpricks digging into my flesh.

“I… I don’t know what you’re saying,” I stammered, fear welling in the pit of my stomach. Were those… Did she have fangs? I didn’t understand a lick of French, so gods knew what she was saying.

“This,” she hissed, thankfully, in English. I winced in pain, her hoof pressing into my chest for the briefest of moments. “Who?”

“I-It was an accident,” I stuttered. She pulled back, revealing her face. Her sapphire eyes glowed like dimmed spotlights, not quite as bright as they had before she’d attacked Cloudchaser, but bright enough to tell she was not herself. Her maw was slightly open, tongue running over a set of sharp, pearly white fangs. Fuck me… She was a porn-fantasy vampire princess come to life.

“Tu mens,” she hissed again, her steely gaze pinning me in place.

The creaking of a door sounded from somewhere behind me. “Hey, Jack. You left your hat…” Raindrops began, before catching an eyeful of Felix being a weirdo. Her maw dropped. “I’llcomebacklater,” she squeaked, dropping my cap like it was a hot poker.

She was gone before it even hit the floor.

Felix shuddered against me, prompting another twitch from my cock. Her eyes were back to normal, fangs gone, and her face was slowly reddening beneath her fur. “Shit,” she muttered, in her usual Canterlot accent. I could do nothing but stare at her. One hand gripping the armrest, the other clutching the flight stick. She just sat there, her warm core pressed firmly against my aching manhood. It was torture. And bliss.

An awkward grin spread over her muzzle, and she began idly fiddling with her mane. “Well… That just happened,” she trailed off, unable to look me in the eye, yet still straddling my diamond-tier boner as though it were a perfectly reasonable place to sit. Not that I’m complaining. All of my previous reservations about being attracted to ponies were pretty much dead in the water by this point. Slain by shapely rumps, bedroom eyes and killer smiles.

“I should probably… um,” she began, making a move to head back to her seat.

My hand made its way to her face without my knowledge, thumb slowly caressing her cheek, fingers slipping into her mane. Felix paused. One of her ears flicked against my fingers, and she gave me a curious little smile. I must admit—I wanted to know why she had suddenly sprouted fangs, and started interrogating me in French. But in that moment, all I wanted to do was just be close to her.

The sound of tinkling wind chimes took me by surprise. Felix let out a little chuckle, the pain in my chest seeming to dissipate with the musical sound of her voice. The glow from her horn receded, leaving my chest a little numb, but my ribs intact.

“Thanks,” I whispered, one hand still gripping the flight stick. The other was sliding deeper into her luscious flowing locks.

Felix breathed a sigh, leaning forward once more to connect our bodies. Her muzzle found the crook of my neck, her breath warming my skin. Her forelegs snaked over my shoulders. “De rien, mon chéri,” she replied, though in French. Her voice sounded normal, with none of the hissing undertones.

Curiosity burning, I could no longer wait. “Since when can you speak Fr-”

CRACK!

A large crack appeared in the left-middle windshield, through which a rather angry-looking Spitfire could be seen yelling quite animatedly. Felix and I both nearly jumped out of the Captain’s seat in fright. “Fuck!” I yelled.

Felix spun around, warily eyeing the damage. “Did she just throw one of her shoes?” Her horn flashed, and the crack disappeared instantly. “Fucking crazy bitch,” she added, finally rising up from my lap. She half stumbled over the centre console, her hind legs acting more like jelly than limbs. I got a faceful of cutie mark as a result. Her tail flagged quite a bit higher than it usually did, and I was suddenly hyper aware of the most alluring scent that had ever graced my nostrils.

“Lucky this is a de-pressurised flight,” I muttered, trying to ignore my sudden light-headedness. Whilst an actual broken window would be bad, it wouldn’t be as catastrophic as it would if we were flying at a higher altitude. “I think I’ll have to have a few words with her about basic aircraft safety when we land.”

“Speaking of landing, we’re almost there. Look, there’s Canterlot,” Felix happily chirped, pointing through the port-side windshield.

I couldn’t help but gasp at what I was seeing. Gone were the floating mountains of the Inertia Peaks. Instead, a sprawling metropolis composed of what appeared to be white marble interspersed with gold spanned the entire side of a gargantuan mountain. The city was perched high up above the surrounding countryside. Even from our vantage point on the Airbus, we were at about the same altitude as the tallest towers of the city.

“You ponies sure love high altitude strongholds,” I thought aloud, adjusting course to keep in line with Spitfire. The jet rolled to port, revealing a small town at the foot of the mountain.

“That’s Ponyville,” Felix commented, strongly reminding me of the Airtours that Skyland Corp sometimes ran for their executives. “Home to the Elements of Harmony. And over there,” she pointed to large expanse of cloud off in the distance, “is Cloudsdale.”

“A cloud city?” I asked, trying to make out a few the cloud structures sitting atop the large expanse of white.

“Yeah. Think of it like the base, only bigger, and without any solid ground.”

“How come it doesn’t just float away?”

“There are spells that keep it in place, the same spells I use to maintain the cloud sections at the Academy,” she added, a slight blush forming on her cheeks.

I smiled, my brain still half-baked by the delicious scent still present in the cockpit.

“Look, there’s our runway,” Felix said, unaware of my musings. A large open valley between two low-lying peaks lay dead ahead. I could easily make out a long runway that ran alongside a winding riverbank. Several buildings were situated on its other side, including a few aircraft hangars of varying sizes, a tall building that resembled an ATC tower, and a sky dock hosting several airships.

I gazed in awe at the large zeppelin-like structures, never having seen them in the flesh before. They bore resemblance to old pirate ships, though they hung below huge gas bags rather than sails. I could even make out a few pegasi working on the rigging.

“So, it’s flaps next? For the glidescope?” Felix prompted, snapping me out of my sightseeing. She rolled the throttle levers back with her magic, the roar of the four turbofans gradually winding down a little. “Huh, there’s still a decent amount of fuel left,” she added, flicking through the ECAM. “Gives us a bit of leeway on the landing.”

“Hopefully, we won’t need it,” I said, adjusting the flap lever and gently easing the flight stick back. The jet pitched up, settling into a steady glide behind Spitfire. “What’s our speed?”

Felix’s horn briefly illuminated. “One hundred and eighty knots, by my calculations,” she replied, flicking her mane out of her face. “Do we set the gear down now?”

“Altitude?”

Felix gave me a bemused look. “Altimeter’s inaccurate too, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” I muttered, glancing at the instrument in question. It read negative twelve hundred feet. “Do you have a spell for that, too?”

“Hmm… Gimme a sec’.” She scrunched her muzzle in concentration, her horn flaring once more and her tongue poking out. I couldn’t help but find the image ridiculously adorable. “One and a half thousand hooves, give or take.”

“Hooves? What about feet?”

The unicorn shrugged, just as the Landing Gear Alarm started blaring. I frowned. “We should probably lower the gear now,” I muttered.

Felix pushed the gear lever down with her hoof, a satisfied grin on her face. “I’ve been waiting hours to do that,” she sang. The deep rumble of the undercarriage deploying reverberated through the cabin, the gear lock lights eventually illuminating one by one.

Lower and lower we sank into the valley, with more and more ponies on the ground and in the air starting to take notice. “Are those earth ponies?” I asked, squinting at a small crowd gathered around one of the hangars. Quite a few of them were lacking a horn, or wings. They gazed up in awe of the looming Airbus, which easily dwarfed even their largest airships.

Felix grinned. “Yep. They’re gonna be all over this thing when we land,” she replied, peering over the high dashboard to get a better look. “Slipstream is right up their street.”

“I wouldn’t mind taking a ride on one of those airships,” I began, before spotting something unsettling on the runway. “Wait—why isn’t that Raptor moving?” The long, sleek vessel had been taxiing over the runway, but ground to a halt just after the centre line. Its magnus cylinders were halfway extended, and its gem-powered light beacons flashing. “They need to get out of the way.”

“Huh,” Felix observed, tilting her head to the side. “They were definitely told we were coming.”

Spitfire, abandoning her steady glide in front of the jet, darted off toward the Raptor at breakneck pace. A number of earth ponies could also be seen galloping toward the stationary aircraft.

“Good thing we have that extra fuel, eh?” I said, gently easing the throttles forward.

“She’s going to murder them,” Felix quipped, flicking the gear lever back up with a forehoof.

* * *

With a leap that demanded all of her strength, Buttercup launched herself from the tarmac, her hoof hooking into the emergency release plate on the door of the Raptor, while the rest of her slammed into the side of the vessel with a dull thud. The thunderous roar rattling through the entire base grew exponentially louder with each passing moment, vibrating the air so much it made her coat ripple and her ears pop. She fought the urge to glance back at the gargantuan alien ship that loomed eerily in the distance, seemingly defying physics by being so large and not dropping out of the sky. All she could do was hope beyond hope that the otherworldly being piloting the mysterious craft was aware of the obstruction on the runway.

“Bucking idiots! I’ll break their stupid heads!” she growled, attempting to unstick the stubborn latch, her other three hooves flailing for purchase against the smooth sky iron. “Stupid, prejudiced assholes!”

She knew exactly who they were. Ever since Felix had been transferred to the Wonderbolt Academy a month ago, the rumours of aliens from another world had been spreading around Foal Mountain at an alarming pace. It hadn't taken long for certain individuals to protest an alliance with the new arrivals to Equador. Thankfully, such individuals were only a small-minded few.

They were also about to get their flanks handed to them. A fiery, flight-suit-clad blur slammed into the front of the Raptor, shattering the windshield into a thousand tiny pieces. Oh, dear. Spitfire’s screaming and cursing could be heard even over the ungodly roar of the alien craft, until the large ship started to roar even louder.

Buttercup yelped in terror, losing her grip on the latch as the din spooled up to a deafening blast of engine noise. Her hooves slipped, and she fell to the runway, her rump bouncing on the tarmac. She ended up flat on her back, gazing in awe at the huge alien craft soaring overhead. The ground vibrated due to the sheer volume it was projecting. An age seemed to pass before its massive fuselage cleared the Raptor—it was just so huge, easily dwarfing her own ship by a considerable margin.

Springing to her hooves, she watched in awe as the giant vessel climbed out of the valley, its multiple sets of wheels gradually folding away into its vast underbelly. In a graceful movement for such a large craft, it rolled to port, and began heading back west towards Canterlot Mountain.

Buttercup could only assume it was heading for a go around. “We need to get this Raptor off the runway, now!” she all but yelled at the ponies that had rushed onto the runway behind her. Thankfully, a few of them had had the sense to bring their harnesses. Wasting no time, Buttercup grabbed the mooring line from Private Blossom, who was standing idly by, unhelpfully gawking at the alien craft with the rope hanging loosely from her maw. Securing it to the nose gear of the Raptor, Buttercup signalled for the harness-wearing earth ponies to pull. The Raptor started to roll with their efforts. Spitfire’s yelling could still be heard from within.

“-IN EQUADOR POSSESSED YOU TO DO SOMETHING SO INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS AND IDIOTIC? I’LL HAVE YOU COURT MARTIALLED FOR THIS, YOU INCONSIDERATE LITTLE BUZZARDS!”

The small vessel cleared the runway, coming to a halt on the adjacent taxiway. Its door extended downwards, and two pegasi tumbled out, followed by one irate-looking Spitfire. Buttercup scowled at the ponies that had seen fit to block the runway. Gust Cloud, a charcoal coated stallion with a lime mane and tail, and Ariel Ace, a silver mare with an off-white mane and tail. Both of them often bent the rules, but Buttercup never thought they’d go quite this far.

“ON YOUR HOOVES!” Spitfire barked, her eyes practically bulging out of her head. Gust and Aerial scrambled up off the tarmac, their faces gaunt. They stood to attention, legs trembling. Their usual bravado had completely abandoned them, much to Buttercup’s satisfaction. They probably hadn’t expected to be reprimanded by Captain Spitfire, after all.

“Captain Buttercup,” Spitfire acknowledged with a slight nod. “I’m going to escort these two to the guardhouse. If I’m not back by the time Slipstream lands, take the humans to your ship. I don’t want them swamped by curious groundcrew.”

Buttercup nodded, a small smile adorning her muzzle. It was good to see Spitfire again. “You got it, Captain.”

Spitfire turned back to the troublemakers. “March!”

The three pegasi set off at a brisk trot toward the main building. Buttercup let out a sigh, the earlier apprehension she had felt returning. Everything needed to go perfectly to keep these hyoo-mans safe. They were an endangered species on Equador, after all. Only the thought of finally seeing Felix again truly calmed her down. Butterflies made their presence known in her stomach at the thought of greeting her friend again. It had only been a month, but Buttercup had missed seeing the unicorn everyday quite a lot more than she thought she would have.

With a squint up at Canterlot Mountain, Buttercup could just make out the large ship flying a wide arc around the city. “Everypony clear the runway,” she called, stepping away from the hijacked Raptor as it was pulled away to a nearby hangar. “All pegasi to ground,” she added, the few ponies in the air descending. She’d gotten word of Windrunner’s demise, and the thought of such a fate meeting one of the ponies under her command made her sick to her stomach.

Once all of the ground crew were safely clear of the runway, Buttercup made her way to the Hurricane hangar. It was by far the largest hangar at Foal mountain—and was named after a prominent Wing Commander that had lived around the time of the unification of the three tribes. It was usually used for Raptor maintenance, but had been cleared out the previous week in time for the otherworldly ship arriving.

Another glance at the ship itself revealed its wheels had dropped out from its underbelly again, its wings curled for extra lift. Now heading straight toward the runway, the eerie illusion of it seemingly hanging motionless in the air became apparent once more. A small speck of blue became visible in the foreground, soaring ahead of the large metal bird way faster than an average pegasus could hope to fly.

Buttercup could just make out the gatling gun on its back. Then, the familiar face came into focus and her heart soared. “Flitter!”

The mare flared her wings at the last second, decelerating rapidly to a hover, before fluttering down to the ground. Buttercup pulled her friend close for an affectionate nuzzle.

Flitter chuckled, gathering Buttercup firmly with her wings and hooves. “I missed you too, Bee.”

“That is one huge ship,” Buttercup called over the growing noise level, stealing another glance at the alien craft. Even downwind of them, the massive metal machine still drowned out most of the noise on the base.

Flitter beamed, folding her wings. “It doesn’t even use magic to fly. Spitfire said it might run on kerosene.”

“Really?” Buttercup squeed, sitting on her haunches and excitedly clopping her forehooves together. She had never seen a flying craft that didn't rely on magic somehow. Maybe these hyoo-mans had also developed other forms of interesting technology? “Do you think they would let me take a look inside? I want to see how the engine works!”

Flitter grinned. “Actually, there are four engines, and they’re all on the outside. Look—you can see them now,” she yelled over the din, gesturing toward the pod-like structures on the wings.

“Oh, wow,” Buttercup breathed, catching sight of the engines. “Are they spinning on the inside?” It was begging to make more sense to her how this ship could be extremely dangerous to pegasi. Windrunner had learned that the hard way.

“Yeah. We’re not allowed to fly too close to them. Aside from what happened to Windrunner, the blast out of the back of them could tear a pony to shreds.”

Buttercup shuddered, glad she was a good distance away from the runway. The ship was looming much closer now, and its nose was tilted up. The rate at which it was sinking eventually tapered off as it drifted over the start of the runway, until its wheels—which she could now see were also huge—skimmed just a few hooves above the tarmac. Whoever this pilot was, they had some serious skill.

No Raptor pilot could have pulled off a smoother touchdown, considering the vast size and weight differential between the two aircraft types. The large wheels under the wings spun up on contact with the runway, the wheels under the nose eventually touching down not long after. As soon as they did, the engines began to roar so loud Buttercup had to cover her ears with her hooves. A series of panels on the wings flipped up, and the wings themselves seemed to curl even more than they already were. Kind of like Flitter had just done when she’d wanted to slow down, in fact.

The huge ship rolled the full length of the runway. Buttercup was worried it was going to roll off the end and onto the riverbank, but it had slowed enough to start turning around by the time it had passed the airship docks. Her own ship was about half the length, but the gas bag made it taller in height.

It turned onto the taxiway and began slowly rolling toward the Hurricane hangar. Ponies from all over the base were gazing at it with looks of wonderment, and Buttercup could tell the pegasi were itching to get into the air for a better look. It maneuvered again, its huge wings swinging over the tarmac until its nose pointed into the hangar entrance.

Slowly rolling the last few hooves, it finally came to a complete stop just short of the hangar. Buttercup felt like a little filly again now it was right up close to her. It was so big it made Raptors look like foals’ toys, and the thunderous, ground shaking roar of its engines set her nerves on edge. She knew it wouldn’t hurt her if she kept her distance, but it was just so big and unfamiliar that she couldn’t help feeling a little scared.

The roar of the engines gradually died down, along with the spinning. Buttercup suddenly realised the pods actually looked shockingly similar to the forced-induction fan blade bypass concept that had been dropped a few years back. She gulped. At least Windrunner would’ve died quickly. If she remembered correctly, the funding was cut because the engines were deemed too dangerous for pegasi.

“I think Jack would be happy to give you a tour of Slipstream if you asked him nicely,” Flitter commented, her eyes focused on Buttercup’s look of awe.

“Huh? Who’s… Jack?” Buttercup repeated, wondering if she had pronounced the name correctly.

“He’s one of the humans, and the Captain of this ship,” Flitter gleefully proclaimed, waving a hoof up at the stationary vessel. “He’s also a comfort stallion.”

Buttercup did a double take. “He is?”

“Yeah. I even got to help train him. Showed him the goods and everything.” She grinned, a somewhat dreamy expression on her face. Her wings even twitched a bit.

“What did he do?” Buttercup asked.

Flitter’s grin faltered a little. “Well, he kinda… ran away. I don’t think he was ready. But, I know he likes ponies. We kissed in a nightclub later that night.”

CRACK.

Buttercup nearly jumped out of her coat, just as Flitter’s wings flared, one of them slapping her in the muzzle. “Ouch,” Buttercup muttered, bringing a hoof up to her maw.

“Sorry,” Flitter whispered, with a sheepish grin.

Felix had just teleported right in front of them. “Bee!” she squealed, before the tall, cloth-laden creature that had materialised along with her immediately fell over her withers.

“Damn it, Felix!” barked a gruff voice. “How many times have I told you now?”

“Bee, this is Jack,” Felix chirped, ignoring the bipedal creature using his oddly shaped hooves to push himself up off her flanks, “He’s a Captain, like you!”

Felix threw her hooves around Buttercup and gave her a lengthy nuzzle. Buttercup would normally have been more reciprocative in greeting her friend, but as it was—she just sat there, her eyes transfixed on the first hyoo-man she had ever seen.

Her first impression of him was that he was big, not unlike his ship, she supposed. Tall, with a flat face, brown eyes, and a cute little nose. His mane was dark brown and cropped short. His upper limbs likened him to a minotaur, more than anything else. He wore a lot of clothing, and it was very posh clothing, at that. A white shirt and black tie, beneath a black suit, with gold buttons, and three gold stripes around the cuffs of the upper limbs. There was also a Wonderbolt badge pinned to his chest. This hyoo-man wouldn’t have looked out of place at the Grand Galloping Gala, mingling with the Canterlot elite, if it weren’t for the fact he wasn’t a pony. The parts of him that weren’t covered by cloth were a tan colour, not unlike her own coat. The only difference was that he didn’t have fur, apart from his short mane, and a small amount of stubble on his face.

He stooped down to pick up his hat, which had fallen off, his eyes never leaving her. Buttercup barely suppressed a shiver. She found he had a similar effect on her as his ship. Such curiosity could get a mare into a lot of trouble, but she was unable to resist. He was a Captain, like her. Though she had only recently been promoted, she was already hoping they could exchange stories and experiences, Captain to Captain. He had to have been on some adventures in his ship, and she wanted nothing more than to hear all about them.

Author's Note

I apologise to any native and learned French speakers for butchering the language—as I no-doubt have.

Google translate sucks, and I wish I'd payed more attention in French class. Yes. Felix's darker half is Prench, though she can speak broken English. Felix herself can speak both, though rarely speaks Prench without the influence of the siren.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As usual, point out any errors in the comments.