On the Parade

by Thunder_Chaser_

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Soarin, Rainbow Dash, Random, Wonderbolts, Spitfire
Length: 4863

For years the Wonderbolts have competed with other equestrian Drill Teams for the Celestial award, and always they come in dead last. This year, Soarin decides that its about time they changed that.

Drill is an art of precision, discipline, and attention to detail. Military units have used it for Centuries to organize themselves. In modern times, the art is still instructed, but isn't a battle technique anymore, today, it is used to display how effective, and disciplined a unit is.

Unfortunately, the Wonderbolt drill team meets none of those standards.

For years the Wonderbolts have competed with other equestrian Drill Teams for the Celestial award, and always they come in dead last. This year, Soarin decides that its about time they changed that.

With permission for the Activation of the team given to Soarin with six weeks of the competition, he should have plenty of time to turn some rough Air-ponies into shining polished drill masters..

Right??

Nope. Wrong again.

This time, Its the only detachment available for the training, straight from the Wonderbolts reserve.

Published 2016-04-25 05:30:03 UTC
Last updated 2017-05-23 01:54:02 UTC

Fall In

"There isn't a single way this plan can go wrong. It's fool proof! I just need some time and command of the team and I can have them whipped into shape in no time!"

"Fine. But your team had better place within the top two Soarin, I'm pulling a few strings here for you, not because I like you, but because if we lose to the night guard for one more year, I'm going to throw you out of a window"

"That's not so bad--"

"I'll be sure to tie your wings up."

"Oh."

Soarin contemplated wether she was bluffing or not. It had taken up a bit of courage to create this presentation to persuade Spitfire, regardless of how well they knew each other off-duty, she still acted as Commanding Officer. Unfortunately for Soarin, Spitfire did have a track record of holding true to her threats. She had to put the fear into her subordinates, sure. But she sometimes did it because she got a kick out of it. Soarin's eyes nervously darted over to the window, where he saw the small crater in the ground from where Spitfire's last threat had "landed". Spitfire caught his ever so slight eye movement.

"If it's any consolation, she at least landed hooves first... I can't say I'll be as generous with you. For both of our sakes Soarin, put the Wonderbolts drill team back on top, and I'll see to getting you one month payed leave... And maybe advancing a promotion. But that's only if you place the team within the top two. Any lower, and it's out the window for you."

Soarin audibly gulped.

"You pushed for command of this team, now you've got it. Don't whine if you don't like my conditions... I know Quick Turn has also been interested in commanding this team too, if you're scared Lieutenant, I'll just give his Department commander a quick call..."

"No ma'am! I will put us on top, so help me Celestia! Just please, for the love of flight, don't put Quick Turn in charge of it... H-he can barely put on his flight suit correctly." Soarin spit out a sudden spur of courage, only regretting defending his position after it had been spoken.

"Then it's set. You've got six weeks, and access to any of the Wonderbolts facilities to practice." Spitfire attempted to hide a sly grin as she signed off on the Order to transfer Soarin into temporary Command of the Team.

'Oh crap oh crap oh crap, that's not good, ABORT ABORT ABORT' Soarin thought to himself, a sudden cold sweat breaking out.

"Unfortunately... All Active Duty Wonderbolts are Deployed or on Assignment... So, You'll be working with the Reservists."

"And?" Soarin tried to keep how relieved he was hidden, maybe a certain multicoloured maned pegasus would sign on, "I know about half of them personally, I already can think up a team--"

"Oh, you don't get to pick your team. That requires at least 5 years of experience on the team as a member, and 2 as Team Commander or Deputy Commander. To which you've got neither. You're not getting cream of the crop here, Oh no no no... You're getting those I choose, most are on disciplinary action."

"Ah buck me..." Soarin mumbled under his breath.

"Maybe another time. You've got your orders... Now get out of my office!!"

Soarin didn't have time to process why he was running to the door, Or his salute at the enterance, all he was thinking of was how hard it was going to hurt when he slammed into the dirt.

"She really assigned you the Drill team?"

"Boy, do I feel bad for you."

Soarin continued to stare at his mug. He had been a Member of the Academy's Drill team back when he was still a Cadet. His team placed within the top three against the other units at the Academy. Sure, it had been a few years since he had done Drill at a competition but it couldn't be that bad... Could it? Soarin looked over to his two friends, Fleetfoot and Firestreak. He had decided to come and drown his sorrows in Cider before shipping out to meet his team. Unfortunately his friends always had his back... Or maybe just wanted to leave him the Tab in the Officers club. He could never tell.

"It can't be that bad Soar', think of it this way... The ground will hurt less if you don't know when it hits you" Fleetfoot commented, Pulling a bandanna in Wonderbolt colours out from a pocket on her Flight suit.

"Hardee har har har." Soarin glared at her.

"Just remember what they did back in the Academy." Firestreak suggested prior to picking up his mug and tilting it back.

"Which is what?"

"Quite frankly, I slept through that class, so I don't remember."

"You're always a lot of help Firestreak..."

Fleetfoot and Firestreak chuckled between themselves. The conversation droned on for a while, Soarin wasn't listening to any of it.

"You alright there Soar'?"

"What? Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine. Just... Thinking." Soarin stared into his empty mug. Reminiscing about the first time he ever saw the Wonderbolts. Not when they were performing, but on a Parade square. The percision, the timing, the discipline. They enchanted him, even at his early age. He followed the Cloudsdale Squadron around while they performed their Drill Sequences. It wasn't until he was a little older that he learned they did much more then marching.

"Well, I guess we'll leave you to it, good luck with that team Soar' if you need any help, call one of us up," Fleetfoot said, paying for some of her drinks.

"Spitfire told me all active duty personnel were either on Deployment or Assignment, how is it that you're not??"

"Heh, I've got more then just one trick for avoiding those duties." Fleetfoot chuckled as she waited for her companion to finish his drink

"Welp, I just do them because Spitfire scares the heck out of me. It encourages me to do them faster." Firestreak said, hammering back his last shot of cider. The duo walked away, and out of the officer's club. As Soarin watched them walk out, he couldn't help but not stop thinking about how all of the other drill teams he had seen were operated. Soarin dug himself deep into thought, only to be disturbed by the bartender.

"Hey, Who's paying for these drinks."

And for the second time within a matter of hours, Soarin was again, screwed over by a trusted friend.

It would've been much easier just to fly over to the Drill team's Armoury, but Soarin needed precious time to study his predecessors methods and practices. Watching short films of their performances and sequences, reading over the Officer's logs and reports. It was quite an undertaking. So much so, he set out a few days in advance to do facility inspections. Besides a part time garrison that occasionally used the Armoury, it commonly sat in disuse. With Spitfire throwing a lot more effort and resources into the team this year, she had all of their kit and equipment transferred and the Armoury refurbished.

She's waaaaaay too serious about this, Soarin thought, looking over to the number of files spitfire had issued him.

Soarin lost count of the amount of films he watched by the time the train pulled into the station, but it was many years of teams then he'd been alive. The reports detailed the former commanders techniques and performances. Typically, from what he read, only the years prior report was read by the new commander. This didn't show the flaws that overlooking decades of reports could show. Typically, when the first team was formed they had a requirement of 30 air-ponies to fill the ranks. However, interest in the team dropped sorely each year, and now, they just needed enough to make a squad of six. Soarin hadn't seen a Personnel report of who he was getting, but was sure it wouldn't be either of the two. He hoped it was closer to the former.

As the train began offloading Ponies, it came to Soarin's attention where exactly he was. The telltale signs of City Hall, a Gingerbread house bakery, and a large orchard gave it away within seconds. Ponyville, as he recalled. Strange that the small town even had a garrison, let alone an Armoury. Considering the new giant Treehouse castle thing, it didn't exactly surprise him that such a building would be constructed if the other existed. He found that the weird Castle thing was quite an engineering feat, but also felt compelled to purchase licensed products.

Shaking off the feeling, Soarin dusted off his Dress uniform and picked up the large amount of Files and his Duffle. The walk to the Armoury was silent, but humble. The ponies greeting him as he passed, welcoming him. When he reached the Guard house, he noticed the lack of on duty guards, and the placement of a very high security fence. Opening up the gate with his keys, he walked down the outdoor parade square, taking in the flags placed around the outside of the asphalt rectangle. The asphalt was incredibly dark, presumably one of Spitfire's new additions. The flags had yet to be raised, confirming Soarin's suspicions of no-pony occupying the armoury within the past few weeks.

Yet he couldn't shake a distant tingling feeling of being watched. Regardless of how calm the surrounding nature was, there was definitely something following him. He quickly hurried into the Armoury. A large 3 Story building with a few guard turrets built into the Architecture. He doubted the effective use of such a Building in an actual siege, but, it did make the Armoury look menacing. The stone brick lead one to believe it wasn't very thick, but Soarin knew better. Behind the walls was layers of concrete and metal. They had tested such construction previously against an arrangement of weapons and creatures. It never faltered.

As he swung open the heavy metal doors, the darkness of the interior overwhelmed him. With some small groping around the wall to find the Light switch, he finally found the control panel. Flicking all of the lights on, the Illuminated Crystals sparked up one by one, showering the interior with light. The first story was reserved for offices. The second appeared to have classrooms and briefing areas. The third story, to his surprise, was non existent. The interior of the Armoury was hollow, the offices and classrooms were all built on the outside of the indoor parade square, with the third story being left open for indoor flight training. The building was massive compared to the outside. He knew there was still two floors of unexplored areas below him. He took in the colours of the building. The outside had been brick red, but the inside was another story. Each level had the Blue and Yellow of the Wonderbolts, with Clouds painted on the incredibly tall ceiling. On one of the walls, the Crest of the Wonderbolts stood proudly.

He went around looking for his temporary office. Finding the door with "Commanding officer" adorned to it, he felt a small bit of pride. He wasn't very far away from being promoted, sure, but it was still unusual to see a Lieutenant of his status in charge of anything. To his surprise, the name "LT SOARIN" was already engraved on a bar of metal attached to the door. Turning the Handle, he felt suddenly overcome with fear. Something was off. Pushing the thought aside, he opened the door.

"SURPRISE!!"

Soarin fell backwards and tripped over his bag, and that's the last thing he remembered.

"Gosh, I'm so so so so so so so so super duper looper sorry, it was totally and accident," Pinkie Pie said, handing him another icepack.

"I've told you a dozen times miss, it's alright... Just don't ever do that again. Like, ever." Soarin hissed at her through the pain. "How'd you even get in here through all the security?"

"Oh, I have a key to every building in Ponyville."

"Fantastic." Soarin mumbled. "How did you manage that?"

"Manage what?" Pinkie asked, now on the opposite side of him without having moved.

"The-the key thing!"

"What? Keys? You mean like those candy ones? Those are my Favourite!" Pinkie said again, now on a different side of Soarin.

"No, Key's for doors..."

"Wait... Doors need keys...?"

Soarin was at a loss for words. How such a pony could talk so much and make no sense was beyond him. It took all of his will power to coax her into leaving the building. Once the Pink menace had left, he worked on setting up the Armoury. He found the Equestrian, Wonderbolt, and Ponyville flags deep in the Supply room in the basement, and raised them that afternoon. He arranged his office, with the required supplies to where it needed to be, and claimed a room in the Barracks to act as his temporary quarters. He had to keep a radio blaring somewhere in the building to scare off the silence that tried to creep in.

After making sure the Armoury was in working conditions, Soarin proceeded to lock down the facility for the evening. As he was locking down the Heavy doors, he received a Letter in a poof of smoke.

General Firefly Armoury,
Ponyville Equestria

Lieutenant Soarin
Wonderbolts

Dear Lt Soarin

I've inclosed the Personnel list for your Drill Team. It has been Approved and Finalized by HQ, and Celestia herself, may I add. You can expect team members to arrive within the next day by Train. They know the destination of the Armoury, and should be able to find it themselves, however, I would recommend meeting with them and walking them to the Armoury prior to getting them settled in. After that, the Team is under your control.

Don't screw this up Soar'. I have faith you'll do your job well.

Good luck, and may Celestia favour your future Endeavours,

From the Desk of Captain Spitfire,
Commander of the Wonderbolts

Soarin sighed, remembering how just a few days ago she had threatened to throw him out a window. Soarin glanced over the team list, browsing through over 16 names, but only one stood out to him.

"Rainbow dash... What in the world have you done to tick off spitfire?" He wondered aloud.

With the moon rising over the horizon, Soarin decided to call it a night. As he turned down the Radio, he noticed just how eerily silent the Armoury got. Hopefully with 16 more Ponies running amuck, the place would sound much more lively. Soarin had a rough idea of how he wanted to run this team -what he was going to do to shape them up in 6 weeks- but he was fearful it wouldn't be enough.

And then he learned just how much he'd gotten himself into.

Author's Note

If you see any major grammar mistakes, please PM or Comment. I don't have an editor and sometimes these things slip through. Thanks friend!

Trying to get back into the swing of writing with a fun idea I had been thinking of for the past few weeks.

All Good endings...

The world grew fuzzy around Soarin as he slumbered in his bunk. As the numbing world of sleep took it's host, his mind was guided down a road of memories. As his mind walked through the cosmic expanse, he found he had no control of his direction. Every memory he could recount was here, even events that had yet to happen. He neared ever closer to a haunting dream. Deep down Soarin knew he would not remember any of this, or he hoped he would not. He neared ever closer to the memory, it was cracked, sparking with electricity from acidic emotions, and darkened. He closed his eyes as he fell into the drowning reality of the dreamscape.

With a crack Soarin found himself in his old Family home in Cloudsdale, staring up at his parents from a dinner table made of cloud.

"A Soldier?"

"Of all professions, a Soldier? Marching up and down? The army wouldn't take you, you're a bloody pegasus, you're not built for anything worthwhile!"

Soarin recalled with great memory, he had just told his parents about his decision to join the wonderbolts.

I said Wonderbolt.

"Pathetic. For years generations of your family - OUR family, have worked in the Weather Factory, you want to break tradition simply to be a show pony?"

They're so much more then just show, they help defend and protect Equestria. You always told me to do something with my life. So why are you giving me this now? Is it not something with my life??

"It's a waste. Just like you. If you enlist, you shall see no help from the either of us. We shall not support you and your foolish dreams. If you want to go and ruin this family's good name, so be it, but don't seek us ever again."

"Honey, isn't that a bit harsh?"

"It's not harsh enough. Run off boy, join your army. We don't love you, and we never will, Now get out!"

Through the teared stained eyes of his memory, Soarin stared with hate at the stallion who he had once held in such high regard, in the title of father. This memory was laced with venom and hate a thousand times over, but he could never conciliate or dispel the emotions that lingered.

Please, just this once be reasonable Father!

"Be gone, you are no son of mine. "

Arguably a good deal of this had maybe made Soarin into the Stallion he was today.

Father! For Celestia sakes, put your stubbornness aside, is this not what you wanted me to do with my life!?!

Or maybe it had just left a scar big enough that he found a drive to try to fill it.

"I said be gone! Leave!"

His father reached for a nearby vase as it began to sail through the air towards him.

Just like that, Soarin bolted up. It was well before his alarm should've gone off by at least two hours. With a sigh, Soarin took in the fading abyss of darkness that was his quarters, and rested his muzzle in his hooves.

"Guess it's never too early for breakfast..." mumbled Soarin.

Soarin paced carefully back and forth on the train platform. His head now clear of clouded thoughts by some hardwork and exercise. The station was silent except for the repetitive clopping of his hooves on the old wood. The Officer of troop Transport had been kind enough to tell him that all members of his team would be arriving today at this station, however, they failed to specify a time. That wasn't the first problem he had with this. He was fuming from how poorly planned this entire set up had been. Spitfire had thrown a large amount of resources into this, yes, he was grateful, but she hadn't done much else besides that. She didn't even bother transferring one of the Wonderbolt's chefs, or anyone who could cook to the team. And the list of problems only grew from there on. He had cringed after reading some of the Team member's files this morning. The Bulk was made up of inexperienced members. Recently Spitfire had began using the team as disciplinary action for poor performing personnel, or personnel she didn't like. Their service records were dotted with infractions. For a few, it seemed to be entirely composed of infractions, just one mistake after another.

Soarin wasn't completely disappointed by Spitfire however. It appeared that she had transferred at least eight good to great personnel into his command. He recalled overhearing something about Spitfire having to defend her use of the team as a disciplinary tact to one of the Generals at the officers mess once. The thought of the sweet and savoury food the Officers mess had to offer brought him back to reality and the hunger from not having anything besides stale MRE's to eat. The dates suggested that they had been packaged at least half a century before Luna's return if not more. Leftovers from the Griffon War.

Just the simple selection of two words itself brought a blood like taste to his mouth. He hated it with a passion, a burning ember. He couldn't let his emotions spoil his attitude. Soarin buried these thoughts deep within his mind as he saw the train start to pull in. Before him offloaded 15 Wonderbolts in their Dress Blue uniforms. He noticed the better Personnel were a bit more decorated in Rank and Awards, while the lesser... Well, At least their uniforms were up to standards. Each pony filed off, some appeared to be in conversation, while others seemed to be a little introverted towards the predicament.

"Alrighty..." Soarin started, attempting to get their attention and failing, "LISTEN UP PONIES"

All conversations died as all attention was draw to him.

Okay, part one down, I have their attention, Didn't think I'd make it this far to plan for a Part two... Ah horseapples, now what am I supposed to do.

With a mischievous grin, Soarin drew up the best memory of his most intimidating Drill Instructor, Spitfire.

"Now that I have your attention... You are all here because you've been assigned to me. Does anyone know, Why you are here?"

The group slightly looked at each other, curious of who was going to speak first.

"Because we've been assembled for the drill team sir..."

"What? Who said that? I can't hear you!"

"Because we've been assembled here for the Drill team, Sir."

"For the love of Lunas flank, Speak up." Soarin said again.

"Because we've been assembled here for the drill team, sir... Please don't get mad..."

Soarin was tempted to sigh and bang his head against a wall, he was no good at intimidating ponies into subordination, it's why he hadn't ever been given a command like this before.

"Miss, I cannot for the life of me hear you. Please speak with confidence and volume next time I ask you a question."

"Sir, I believe what Private Light Breeze here is trying to say, is that we've been assembled for the drill team, sir."

Soarin looked the Stallion over. His seniority showed, not only on his face, but on his uniform. Decorated with a few honours, and what appeared to be a Celestial Star, an award issued only once every five years to deserving service ponies. Yet for the apparent age granted by his looks, he was small in stature with plenty of body to fill out with age.

'There's no way this stallion is over 20 years old...' Soarin thought to himself

"You, what is your Name Airpony?"

"Sea Biscuit."

"What?"

"Sergeant Sea Biscuit, Sir."

"What a peculiar name."

"Thank you, sir, my mom chose it for me."

'Great, a wise guy too.' Soarin politely nodded at the joke and continued to inspect the ponies that had been selected for the team. He inspected each one briefly, quickly going over uniforms. It took him several minutes, but finally he inspected all 15. He was going as fast as he could, pointing out inaccuracies with uniforms, or restating standards.

"All in all, I'm impressed. There are some areas where you all need improvement, but I figure we have plenty of time to iron that out. Let me formally welcome you to the Wonderbolt Precision Drill team. I hope you all enjoy your stay. Now, on my training file, it says one of you is my Deputy Commander, but it didn't state who."

Silence hung throughout the train station.

"Not a single one of you?"

More silence.

"If one of you doesn't step up I'm going to make PT tomorrow morning very painful for everyone."

Tension hung in the air, eyes darting around looking at everypony else, trying to figure out who was the second in command. Suddenly all the eyes looked upwards, as a light whistle began to echo around the area. With a crack of lightning and the thud of wood, Rainbow Dash stood directly in front of Soarin.

"You called?"

Soarin stood dumbfounded.

It was a long silent march back to the Armoury, Soarin attempted to keep as much military formality as he could, but it was impossible when he had almost passed out after his Deputy Commander appeared. Once they marched through the gates into the Armoury's outdoor parade square, he halted the team facing the flagpoles outside the entrance.

"See those three flags? Each one stands for something Different. The Equestrian Flag stands for Harmony, No drill team has ever marched successfully onto the Parade square where they weren't in Harmony, in step. An entire Squad of Hearts beating in unison. The Wonderbolt Flag stands for Duty and Heritage, We will be the first Wonderbolt team in decades to take back the Celestial Award for Military Excellence, setting a standard for every Wonderbolt team, every colt, every filly, who shall come after us. The final Flag is the flag of this town, Ponyville. You will find that it is unique, there is nothing like it the world over, Just like this drill team you stand in now. Here you will find your peace, and your central core." Soarin paused, wondering where this dramatic speech had welled up from inside him, "These are your three Flags, you will salute them each and every morning, and you will salute them each and every night. You will do your best to ensure they are always flying high. These three flags represent this Drill team. You will ensure you do not fail this drill team."

Silence hung amongst the Drill team.

"Listen, I know most of you don't want to be here. Some of you are here sweating out what could've became a court martial, or worse. Luckily, this drill team exists. When I was just a Colt I watched this very drill team perform. Time and time again, I actively pursued an understanding of them and their drill. Fate did not have it in store for me to become a Driller, so I became an Aerial Specialist and Demonstrator instead. Fate does not govern us, okay? I don't care if you were on your way to being discharged before you got this posting. This is your chance for redemption, if you need it. Take this seriously, and we'll have a good time." Soarin finished, he was never much of a speaker, but he felt empowered, as if this is what he was born to do.

"I totally agree with Soarin here, If we don't shape up who knows what'll happen to us." Dash proclaimed.

There was silent mumbling and nods of agreement from the group.

"Training Starts tomorrow morning at O'Six Hundred hours. You shall only be granted Sundays as Off duty days initially. If you all are successful and impress me within this first week, I will buy everyones drinks Sunday. But if you don't, I revoke your next off duty day. Deputy Commander Dash will read of the Room assignments, Dash?"

"Uh Soar'?" Dash whispered to Soarin

"Yes Dash?"

"What Room assignments?"

"The ones I gave you earlier."

"Oh. Right."

"Do you remember them?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then whats the problem?"

"I don't have them anymore."

"What?"

"Poof, Gonzo."

Soaring groaned, this was not going to be an easy six weeks.

"Room postings shall be as follows, I don't care if you decide to change it, just please ensure its noted on the door way:
Private Light Breeze, Barrack Room 001
Corporal Stratus, Barrack Room 001
Sergeant Sea Biscuit , Barrack Room 002
Private White out, Barrack Room 003
Private Brown out, Barrack Room 003
Corporal Sharp Point, Barrack Room 004
Private High Flight, Barrack Room 004
Warrant Officer Second Class Slipstream, Barrack Room 005
Sergeant Catabatic Wind, Barrack Room 006
Sergeant Burning Skies, Barrack Room 007
Private Silver wings, Barrack Room 008
Private Mosquito, Barrack Room 008
Corporal Kitty Hawk, what a unique name, Barrack Room 009
Corporal Chinook, Barrack Room 009
Warrant Officer Third Class Map Reader, Barrack Room 010.
Now that you all have your rooms, I'd recommend going to bed early. Lights out is officially 2230. Until then, do as you please, just don't leave Armoury Grounds." Soarin shouted out. The Air-ponies quickly moved to their determined locations.

"What about me?" Rainbow asked after the team had left.

"You and me need to have a chat and you aren't going to like it one bit."

"Oh."

"Firstly, How'd you end up on spitfires watch list?"

"Well..."

Author's Note

PM me anything wrong you see, such as grammar or such.

Sorry if you've been waiting awhile. It's taken a bit of effort to try to get back into the swing of things. Or at least writing.

The chapter title is misleading, but I assure you this isn't the end, for, ALL GOOD ENDINGS HAVE GOOD BEGINNINGS.