The Honorable Discharge of Lieutenant Rainbow Dash

Five years earlier

Clearly it was an attempt on her life.

The lanky pegasus paced down the train aisle for at least the seventh time, letting out a long, slow, frustrated breath. She couldn’t even look outside to occupy herself, the windows each blacked out. Forget the worry of the light being spotted-the bomber pegasi could probably hear her pacing.

Closing her eyes, she slumped into her seat, counting to thirteen and reaching for her happy place. All she felt was a spring in her side.

Obviously it was some sort of plot to have her die of cabin fever before she ever even reached Manehatten-she was going stir crazy already.

Some of the others on the train sat huddled together, eyes cast upward, as if they might see the bombs drop through the ceiling. Others folded in on themselves, lips moving as they silently sent a prayer for Celestia to save their soul. They were terrified for their lives. And so was Rainbow Dash-but she was used to that. Bomb drills and raids were a dime a dozen back home. Terrifying or not, they were familiar, and so the aching frustration had set in.

It probably wasn’t even real bombers-just another flock of geese, or a wayward cloud, or some pony lost out after dark. They’d probably stopped the train for nothing, and now she was going to be late. Some impression that’d make. Her fuming was cut short by the first blast.

In some ways it was comforting. At least now she knew this whole mess wasn’t for nothing, that they weren’t pointlessly hiding from no one.

Her heart was racing.

She could hear the blood drumming in her temples, beating loud enough to rival the distant explosion. Could they hear that? Had they somehow heard her pacing the aisle? Rainbow bit down hard on the panic, glancing around the train with a forced expression of relaxed casualty.

A mother was trying to keep her baby from crying, and an old creaky stallion had passed out, slumped down in the aisle. No one move to help him. No one even stirred but the mother and her tiny colt.

It was only heartbeats before a pony colored like lemonade stood, stepping gingerly out into the long space between seats. Crouching, she gently shook him, worry lining her face. “Um, excuse me? Sir? Sir are you okay?” she asked, her voice high enough it broke, strained with fear.

Before he could answer, before she could ask him again, there was another blast, much closer than the last. The train rocked hard, and everyone stifled screams and sobs as it shook. Rainbow braced herself against the wall, shutting her eyes hard until the rocking faded, and the heat from the blast began to dissipate. How close would it hit next? One train car over? A few rows behind? Right on their heads?

The small yellow pony shook fearfully, eyes pricks of blue. “He-he’s not breathing,” she said, straining to raise her voice loud enough to hear. “Please, does anyone know first aid? Please, anyone-”

“Just sit down and be quiet before the bombers hear you!” snapped a stocky unicorn, eyes wavering with fear.

Eyes wet, she backed away, looking miserably to the old stallion in the aisle. Finally, she paused, looking around for an empty seat to disappear into. None were empty here-but there was one that wasn’t quite so crowded.

She looked to Rainbow Dash hesitantly, ears back as if she might strike her. “If you don’t mind, I-I’d like to sit here, if that’s alright with you, that is,” she said, looking back up the aisle.

Rainbow paused, wondering when she’d opened her eyes to watch the yellow pony. “Plenty of room for everyone,” she said, forcing a smile that felt as fake as it was.

The pony sat, sinking into herself, her pastel mane falling over her eyes. They sat in silence, without even the chugging of the train or the bomb fall to accompany the wordlessness.

It was Rainbow Dash who broke it.

“I’m Rainbow Dash, by the way,” she said, keeping her voice down as not to stir up the more skittish ponies in the car. “I’m going to Manehatten since Cloudsdale’s there-I’m signing up with the army. You?”

The small pony paused, offering a shy smile. “I remember you. My name’s Fluttershy. I think we went to flight camp together, remember?”

Rainbow’s face flushed with shame as she remembered, and she grimaced, looking away. “Yeah. Sorry about losing the race-I swear I don’t know what happened,” she said, sinking back into the seat.

To her surprise, Fluttershy’s smile only relaxed. “Oh, I don’t care you didn’t win. No one’s ever tried to defend me like that. Even just the idea that you tried that for me-” her words were cut off by another blast, this one so near she could feel the heat radiating through her coat, warming her skin-the train didn’t rock much to this one, as if it were more in front than behind. It was quickly followed by two more blasts, and with one fierce heave, they train went over.

Ponies did their best not to cry out as the motionless trained landed on it’s side, shattering the glass in more than just a few windows. Rainbow caught herself on her wings, but Fluttershy only kept from falling by locking her hooves around the seat, quivering as she held on.

Rainbow grabbed her hooves, gently lowering her to stand on part of the wall that didn’t have much broken glass. “You alright?” she asked, landing carefully.

She was shaking like a rattle, and looked ready to cry, but Fluttershy nodded. “Y-yes I’m fine,” she squeaked. “We need to help the other passengers,” she said, looking to a pony staggering to her feet, looking for her dropped son.

Rainbow took a deep breath, nodding. Someone had to take charge here. She knew all too well she was too rash and impatient to be the sort, but it looked like tonight it was up to her and miss Fluttershy, and somehow she got the feeling the quiet pegasus wasn’t much of the rallying sort either. “You take the front end of the car, I’ll head this way,” she said, turning briskly to assess the damage to the ponies. There were a handful others trying to help as well, doing what they could to check for wounds, make a head count.

The cyan pegasus started forward, kicking aside toppled luggage to clear some semblance of a walkway along the wall. She paused in front of a still warm stallion, his dark ginger coat blacked with silky blood. It nearly blotted out the half moon of his cutie mark, staining his light blue hair. The way his head twisted back on his neck in a way that told her everything she needed to know. It was already too late for him. She stepped over the cooling body and moved on.

A mare huddled with her husband next to a bench bolted into the now-vertical floor, trying gingerly to wipe at the cuts on his face, quietly begging him to wake up already. Rainbow decided he was unconscious-it was better than the alternative.

Passing them by, she approached a small filly, eyes wet as she huddled under a coat at least seven sizes too big for her, more the size of a large stallion than anything else. One of the tiny filly’s eyes was a soft pretty purple. The other was a bloody socket.

“Shh, shh, don’t cry, the salt in your tears is gonna make it hurt worse,” Rainbow said. She wanted to be comforting. She wanted to be soft-but that wasn’t something she knew how to be. “I’m going to rip off part of this coat to bandage your eye, okay?”

The filly started crying more, pulling away. “No, this is daddy’s coat, I have to keep it safe for him,” she said holding it close.

“What’s your daddy look like? I’ll go get him,” offered Rainbow, hoping the tiny girl’s father could convince her to sacrifice the coat.

Sniffling, the tiny creature nodded, looking up at Rainbow Dash with one hopeful eye. “He-he’s a dark orange kind of color, with a blue mane, and his cutie mark-it’s this curvy half moon,” she said, hugging a loose sleeve of the coat to her stomach.

Rainbow closed her eyes, wincing at the description. Only a few rows away, the stallion with the broken neck continued to grow colder as the blood stains set. His life was gone now, off into the vast unknown of whatever was next-and he’d left his fragile daughter behind.

It was going to be a long night.