Welcome to the Rainbow Factory

The Pegasi in Cloudsdale were always fond of a good meal, and had no desire to conceal the fact. Close to the flightline there were a number of restaurants, food carts, and other spots, that regularly enjoyed a steady lineup of customers. There were also publicly funded canteens, fully staffed, and never short of food. Pegasi working the day shift had laid their trays in the large dining-rooms, and over the boisterous crowd, could make out the familiar sounds of weather work. Besides tea, coffee, sandwiches, honey, buttered bagels, special apple fritters imported from Ponyville, oat-burgers, and so on, strong hot Cloudsdale soup was also served.

     On the morning when Scootaloo was in Cloudsdale, she stood beside Rainbow Dash in line to a small food-cart. If they had come even a moment earlier, they would have elected to eat at the canteens, but they were now closed. Standing closely to Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo yawned sleepily, despite having slept so soundly in Rainbow's house. And although she was excited to join Rainbow on a trip to the factory, her sister-figure seemed more reluctant to Scootaloo attending than she was last night. Other young ponies could also be seen with their sponsers; though they were to attend weather training before doing any actual work. Scootaloo had, it is true, been surprised that she would be immediatly doing on the job training. But as she had Rainbow Dash as her sponser, and trusted the blue pegasus whole heartedly, she promptly dismissed whatever reservations she might have felt.

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     It will perhaps help to make our story clearer, if we break off here and explain some of the circumstances in which we find Scootaloo. We have just seen that Scootaloo had passed her flight test, despite being grounded for much of her foalhood. She had managed to succeed with the help of Rainbow Dash, who had devoted her every waking moment to training and educating her. She had, for instance, made it a principal to push Scootaloo as far as she could—that is, until the young filly suffered wing-splints, as so many Pegasi suffered when exercising, even the more cautious flyers, such as Fluttershy. She even succeeded in devising an appropriate study program with little help from the studious Twilight Sparkle, though it was difficult to carry out—difficult because a fair amount had changed since Rainbow attended flight school. But Rainbow’s methods were exceedingly effective and founded on sound facts. Moreover, due to her inexperience, Scootaloo was at a disadvantage, and could not refuse Rainbow’s help, however brutal her programs were becoming. As long as she followed her instructions, Scootaloo knew she would be an equal to any student in Cloudsdale, if not more so. All that would be left for Scootaloo to do would be to muscle through her classes, and keep an unflagging, unaltered exercise regimen, that she may not fall behind the other students and risk failing her flight test. The mere fact too, that her flying and acrobatics was improving considerably every month in steady progression further convinced Scootaloo of the soundness of Rainbow Dash’s teachings.

     But all these incontestable facts were confronted by another fact. Cloudsdale had a zero tolerance policy regarding failures in flight school. Almost at the same moment when Scootaloo became capable of flight, Sky Skimmer, a colt in the best society, of the highest education, and flawless physique, had failed his flight test. He was a colt of thirteen, of sound mind, and extraordinary ambition. His family had been proud citizens of Cloudsdale since the years before Nightmare Moon, and were perfectly confident in their foals abilities. As they possessed extraordinary wealth, they saw fit to hire the best tutors and trainers for their son, sparing no expense in his becoming a Clousdale citizen.

     The family was, as we have already said, wealthy and influential in Cloudsdale. But even Sky Skimmer, a pony with the highest connections, realized it was useless for him to expect special treatment and that his family could not save him from exile. Perhaps the various rumors and stories exaggerated the situation, but he had accepted, bleakly, and in the most simple-minded fashion, that he would never see his family again, and that he would be blamed for sullying the family name. Sky Skimmer’s future was to be the paragon of tragedy, without hope or forgiveness. Some of the family had even themselves agreed, without saying much about it, that if necessary they should remove all traces of him, and redeem the family name with a more successful candidate. The parents knew of this pact, and so when Sky Skimmer was sent away to the west gate, they requested he be returned to them. The father attached the greatest value to Sky Skimmer and purchased a small home in Trottingham, where he might live in exile under their loving care. They received, in response, a satisfactory, though not absolutely definite, assurance that Sky Skimmer would be returned to him once he had been out-processed.

     Yet, despite numerous meetings and inquiries, the parents could receive no definite information regarding their son. It had been mutually agreed, in a less than friendly way, that Sky Skimmer had been sent away in exile, and the city administration had not been informed that he was to be hoofed to his parents. The parents themselves had not even begun to speak quite openly on the subject; there were signs of a malicious element.

     Night Star, the mother, was, for some reason, evincing fear, and believed that their son had become the victim of some terrible scandal. She continually investigated the whereabouts of her son, while her husband continued being "stonewalled,” as she put it, by the Cloudsdale Weather Corporation. She managed after working fearfully hard, almost like a slave, to get a few more or less satisfactory leads on her son’s whereabouts. At the small success she was extraordinarily elated. Radiant with hope, she went out for days, against her husband’s objections, following the information she had gathered in search of her son. She had been two days out on her excursions, when the elder of her husbands estate informed him that he lost sight of her near the Rainbow facility. The husband was sufficiently surprised, but was convinced that Night Star would return as she always did.

     However, she had not returned, and, for fear that she may have suffered some sort of calamity, the husband sent his servants in search of her. When at last they found her, they found almost from their very first glimpse of her that they had to abandon the language, the mannerisms, the subjects of the agreeable and sane conversations that were so familiar to them—everything, everything! They saw an entirely different mare, not in the least like the kindly mare they worked for.

     The new mare turned out, in the first place, to have been struck by some form of delirium, and did not seem fully aware of those around her. Yet her eyes, blank and unfocused, carried some glint of understanding; but they also carried dread, as though the thing she understood would reach out to harm her. Moreover, she had not the same character as before. She did not resist when the servants escorted her to the estate, nor did she react upon seeing her husband. There was nothing of the vitality, the hopefulness, sometimes fascinating in its simplicity and quantity.

     It was a new and surprising creature, utterly unmoved by the tender affections of her distraught husband, who laughed upon any mention of her son, and stung him with venomous melancholy, openly declaring that ponykind was rotten and expressing no other feeling but contempt—contempt and loathing which had come upon her immediately after she gathered she was in her home.

     That was, at least, what she said. But while this new Night Star laughed and talked like this, her husband discovered an unusual phobia. The discovery was accidental, he had simply offered her a glass of water. But upon seeing the rainbow reflected off the glass, she cried out in terror, screaming and thrashing until at last her husband managed to console her.

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     Scootaloo was, at the time, sitting across from Rainbow Dash, eating a plain croissant with hay and oats. Whenever she was close to Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo used to open her eyes wide, and fidget nervously, stammering embarrassingly whenever she tried to speak. She had once had the weakness to imagine Rainbow Dash as a demigoddess, the greatest of all pegasi, and therefore made any time she spent with Scootaloo a wonderful privilege.

“Sorry I couldn’t get us to the feeder in time squirt,” said Rainbow Dash, munching through a daffodil and daisy sandwich.

“It’s no problem,” said Scootaloo, “at least they have hay and oats in Cloudsdale. I’m still not really used to pegasus food."

Rainbow snickered. “It is a bit different from Ponyville. And to think, I grew up here. Applejack and Pinkie ruined me for Cloudsdale sweets."

“You think we can get them delivered?"

“Absolutely. Last time I did work in Cloudsdale, Pinkie sent me enough goods from Sugar Cube Corner to start my own stand. It was a bit annoying at first, but it was nice of her. Helps me remember where home really is."

Scootaloo shifted on the bench nervously. “Can’t believe I’ll be gone a whole month. Wonder what Applebloom and Sweetie Belle will be up too while I’m here?"

“Don’t sweat it too much. They’ll probably be “crusading,” and getting into all kinds of trouble."

“You think they’ll be able to mail me while we’re moving around?"

“If they can’t, I’m sure Pinkie Pie can. Don’t ask me how. I don’t make a habit of questioning how that pony does things,” answered Rainbow Dash.

     When at last they finished, and chucked whatever wrappers and other trash they had in the nearest bin. They proceeded towards the factory.

“Scootaloo,” said Rainbow Dash, “I want you to know, what goes on in the factory stays with us, kay. There’s a reason we don’t permit tours of the upper factory."

“Cause of the Spectra, right?” asked Scootaloo.

“Right,” replied Rainbow uncomfortably, “Spectra’s important for weather production, but in the wrong hooves it could be some pretty nasty stuff."

“Like when Pinkie ate some of it?” asked Scootaloo jokingly.

“Something like that… The point is, you’ve got a very important job. It won’t seem like it at first, but what we do there is important for everypony. Friends, family, you name it; everypony needs us to keep the weather stable, and it all starts with making Spectra."

Rainbow looked towards the “ground,” slowing her pace as she shifted her attention to the tufts of cloud they were walking on.

“So, whatever happens, just know that I have faith in you. You’re alot like me; you’re no quitter. But even I had trouble getting used to that place; and, with Fluttershy and Gilda gone, I didn’t have any anypony to help me through it. You do though."

Scootaloo felt the feathers of Dash’s wing on her shoulder, as she gazed towards the blue pony, somewhat surprised by what she heard. The pegasus she continuously admired like a big sister appeared smaller, and terribly fragile. She nudged herself closer, allowing more of her figure to be draped under Rainbow’s wing, and smiled sweetly to her.

The factory was just across from them. It was much larger than any of the facilities Scootaloo had spotted along the flight-line. The colonnades seemed almost rotten, and the cloud wall was not the clean, white design shared throughout the city, but was a black, quietly thundering fog, shifting slowly, and creepily in various directions.

Scootaloo shivered at first glance of the imposing facade, but the soft touch of Dash’s feathers pushed aside all manner of fear and reluctance she might have felt in that brief moment. She reminded herself that she was a Cloudsdale pegasus, an elite flyer; and standing beside her was Equestria’s greatest Pegasus pony; a pony who would always be with her, physically or in spirit, and protect her from harm.