Blitz

1

Rainbow Dash shook her head in a futile attempt to clear it. Never had she been as exhausted as she was now. Her week of unexpected captaincy, along with going off at night and returning at the sunrise, had brought the mare to the precipice of her limits. More times than not she wanted to beg Spitfire to take the position back, but knew it would be pointless - not only did her own pride forbid such an act of weakness, but the sun-tinted pegasus wouldn’t budge even if she could ask.

Rainbow Dash had made her mistake, and had to pay the consequences. She mentally snorted with bemusement at the very idea of a promotion to captain being a punishment; almost sneered at the irony of the exact same thing happening to Spitfire’s granddad during his youthful service in the Royal Equestrian Air Force.

It had been the longest week in the de facto captain's life - there were a hundred things to do and hardly any time to do them. Mornings like this were full of practice sessions which lasted for hours. The practice was harsh; team coordination demanded absolute perfection. If she was even the slightest second off, the entire team was off; if she were to give a miscue, the entire team would falter. Everypony on the team expected her to deliver, and she had no choice.

If the practice drills weren't draining enough, her afternoons had been consumed by the menial yet necessary behind-the-scenes responsibilities that came with the captain's title. One moment, she's meeting with the next event's stunt choreographer to have everything set up - from the tricks they were going to preform to all the little details, including timing and proper cues.

Another day had her getting the music and lights just right with the appropriate musical pony, more specifically a certain DJ with a two-toned electric-blue, purposely unkempt, mane. Though Rainbow Dash had practically lived off of Vinyl's beats for the past few years, she had no time to be starstruck with the energetic yet still professional pony. Much to Dash's surprise, the DJ hadn't even beat an eyelash at working at an all-pegasus show.

"Don't sweat it," Vinyl had said, waving a dismissive hoof, "I've done sets at plenty of pegasus venues. It just takes a simple little cloud-walking spell, and poof, I'm there."

"Um... aren't you afraid of falling?"

"Pffft," the cream colored DJ rolled her eyes, "you're the Wonderbolts aren't you? You'll just catch me."

The DJ's chill demeanor had completely thrown off Dash. "Uh, yeah, I guess."

But by far the press conference had been the most horrendous; hundreds of ponies with blended, unintelligible voices bombarded her with questions. It became worse once Spitfire shared her plan with the public; the voices seemed to triple, both in volume and quantity. She had to buckle down and untangle the knot of unceasing queries, all the while feeling Spitfire's judging eyes and mocking sneer upon her.

Her only respite came after all was said and done. Early in the evening, she would leave the Cloudiseum and not return until the first light of the morning, needing to take care of some personal business. The only two consequences to this activity was the severe lack of sleep, and Spitfire had been growing increasingly suspicious over the course of the week.

Either through her musing or her fatigue, Dash failed to notice the cloud she was about to plow into.

“Gaah!” She closed her eyes, deciding to fly straight through. Unfortunately, she was met on the other side by one of the Cloudiseum’s solid pillars.

Spitfire showed up only a moment later. “You alright, Dash?”

“Fine,” Dash growled, peeling herself off the pillar, “just fine.”

“Come on,” Spitfire placed a hoof on Dash’s shoulder, concern alighting the golden pony’s eyes. “Let’s take a break.”

Dash gritted her teeth. “I said I’m fine,” she snarled in an indignant tone.

“And I said we’re taking a break.” Spitfire’s own voice went flat, leaving no room for argument. Though the rookie before her wore the captain’s suit and title, Spitfire’s word was still law according to the Wonderbolts.

Dash conceded defeat without further protest, being led out of the cloud and into the Cloudiseum’s lounge area. The rest of the team followed suit, confused but not asking questions. They took advantage of this pleasantly surprising recess; Baron and Thunder began another game of chess while Soarin’ and Flash went out to fetch everypony some lunch.

“Alright, we need to talk.” Spitfire pulled Dash to the locker room. Taking their suits off, Spitfire held a neutral tone as she looked Dash straight in her magenta eyes - the very eyes that the cyan mare now struggled to keep open. Every other minute was punctured by vocal yawn from Rainbow Dash.

“Every night this week you’ve been sneaking out and not returning until morning. What’re you up to, Dash?”

She yawned before answering. “Nothing.”

“Horse apples, nothing. You’re completely drained...” Spitfire raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Tell me what you've been doing.”

“It's nothing that concerns you.” Dash gave her inquirer a scowl.

“When it makes you this tired, it obviously concerns me.”

“No, the image of your Wonderbolts concerns you.” Dash was starting to lose her patience. She ground her teeth together to keep her cool.

Spitfire's jaw fell open; she felt like she had just been struck in the face. "That is not true and you know it! I just wanted to know what you're doing every night, that's all!"

"It's none of your business what I do on my off-time," Dash snorted defensively.

"I'll make it my business," Spitfire growled her retort.

Dash leveled her ears, glaring at the golden mare. “You know what? Fine! I'm visiting my friend every night! This captain thing is a pain in my flank, so it's nice to sit back with a glass of cider and a good friend!”

"That... that's all?"

"Yes that's all! Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to take a nap before I pass out." With that, Dash trotted off into her private quarters, leaving behind a stunned and still-quite-disbelieving Spitfire.

2

Spitfire lay hidden inside a small cloud, eyes locked on the door of Rainbow Dash's private room. The filly was up to something, and Spitfire didn't buy her 'friend' story for a second. Perhaps the captaincy got to her head, and she was just out showing off to whoever would listen. The golden mare herself could certainly remember her days, or rather nights, of doing the very same... that is, until her grandpa had put his hoof down on that nonsense. He hadn't tolerated her shameless flaunting for even a second, and now it seemed as if she would have to teach that same lesson.

She thought again of her day at the spa - of how Starfire had come to her in her dream. He was displeased with what she had let the Wonderbolts become. Once, under his reign, they were the most renowned Wing in the Royal Equestrian Air Force. And now... now they were just a household product, a group of pegasi who flew stunts together. She could only imagine the shame that Baron and Thunder felt, playing the very same game of chess which they had begun hours ago.

They were there from the very beginning. Bitter rivals turned closes friends, they served as Starfire's most trusted lieutenants. Sixty years later, they use their battle-hardened skills solely for the enjoyment of others...

Her thoughts were cut off as Rainbow Dash's door creaked open ever-so-slightly. A rainbow-maned head peeked out, glancing to both sides before the rest of her followed suit, quietly shutting the door and making her way out of the Cloudiseum.

Now where are you going... Spitfire stalked her prey, maintaining a comfortable distance between them. Visibly relieved as she made another seemingly successful escape from the Cloudiseum, Rainbow Dash dropped her guard in favor of a quicker trot. The golden mare glanced around, marking each cloud in her mind should she need to hide.

She silently thanked her grandpa for the years of lessons he gave her, cleverly disguised as simple games. Hide and Seek became scouting hunts where she learned how to hide and spy; games of Tag incredibly boosted her speed and maneuverability. As a filly, she thought he was just a fun old pony who loved to play games with his granddaughter. Now she knew that he had been helping her develop her skills.

The streets were still crowded as Dash unwittingly led her tracker around Cloudsdale, keeping a straight line to her destination. Spitfire became only more confused as her cyan mark simply ignored every club she trotted by, moving with a steadfast determination.

A strange sight stuck out at Spitfire - Dash seemed to be following a single line of ponies all going to the same destination. The golden hunter frowned, frustration growing as her suspicions were disproved. She wanted to just fly down and confront the cyan mare, corner her in public and get a straight answer once and for all. But, she knew, Rainbow Dash would just spook and flee if Spitfire were to take such a direct approach.

She wouldn't have to take the direct approach anyway, she discovered, as the line reached Rainbow Dash's destination. Spitfire gawked, unbelieving, at the massive structure in front of her. So that's what she's been doing...

As comprehension sunk into Spitfire's mind, Rainbow Dash trotted into the Weather Factory.

3

"Hi Swirl." Rainbow Dash waved as she passed the shift manager, a white overcoat covering her magenta hair. She grinned in return.

"Good evening, Rainbow Dash. I take it this is your final night?"

"Unfortunately, yeah." Dash gave the mare a lopsided smile. "Too bad, too. I was actually kinda having fun."

"Well you could always quit the Wonderbolts and come work here full time." Swirl gave her temporary employee a playful wink.

"Hah!" Dash snorted, fitting on her hard hat. "It's not that fun."

"Oh well," Swirl shrugged. "At any rate, it was nice of you to volunteer in Blaze's absence this week."

"Nah," Dash waved her hoof to dismiss the compliment, "it was nothing." And with that, she trotted off to the conveyer belt where unformed snowflakes awaited her crafty hooves.

4

Abandoning all subtlety, Spitfire landed in front of the Weather Factory's doors and walked in. Ambient noises of machinery meshed together, forming a single, incomprehensible sound. Immediately she was greeted by a blonde, short haired pegasus who was flying around keeping an eye on her workers.

"Oh hello there, Spitfire." She reached a hoof out; the golden mare shook it. "I'm Swirl, the night-shift manager here at the Weather Factory. To what do I owe the honor of a second Wonderbolt's appearance? Have you come to volunteer as well?"

"Volunteer?" Spitfire tilted her head, now very interested.

"Oh yes. Rainbow Dash has been coming here every night this week to volunteer while one of our regulars is on a vacation."

"You don't say... yeah, actually. I did come here to volunteer and work. Could you take me to her?"

"Certainly! Right this way, ma'am."

5

"So, how's your friend doing?"

Rainbow Dash's entire body froze as the familiarity of the voice struck her eardrums. All week she had gotten away with it, but now, on the final night, she was busted. Slowly she turned around, coming face-to-face with a very unamused Spitfire.

"Yeah... my friend... um... he was sick so I decided to... you know..." Spitfire merely raised an eyebrow, looming over the seemingly shrinking rainbow-maned filly.

"Just tell me the truth, Rainbow Dash." Spitfire's golden irises bore into the other pony's eyes, a deep frown gracing her muzzle.

"Fine! Fine... I'll tell you. You know that fan that you oh-so ignored last week? Whom I've spent a little time with?"

"Yeah?"

"His dad works here, and I volunteered my entire week so he and his dad could spend some bonding time together, and his dad could teach him to fly."

Spitfire's hard gaze turned into an almost hurt stare. "Why... why didn't you ever tell me? Or anypony?"

"Psh, like you'd care," Dash responded, a little more defensively than she'd meant.

"Dash..." Spitfire sat down, ears slowly drooping. "Do you really think I'm such a bad pony? Do I act like such an insensitive filly that I only care about how good I and the Wonderbolts look?"

"N-no... I mean, um, not on purpose. But you can be a little... out of it." Rainbow Dash had never thought it'd go this way. She was expecting another yelling match; possibly even expulsion.

"And I'm sure this week has shown you exactly what I've gone through for years."

"Actually... yeah, yeah it has. And, uh..." she abashedly rubbed the back of her head, "I'm sorry for what I said. About the whole 'camera hog' thing."

"I just have one question for you, Dash." Spitfire maintained her stern gaze.

"What's that?"

The golden mare pointed to the conveyer belt with her hoof. "Can I help out?"

6

"I should actually thank you," Spitfire said as she formed the umpteenth snowflake of the night, "for calling me a camera hog. That day at the spa really helped me a lot, in more ways than one. I grew up a little that day."

"Dash..." Spitfire focused intently at the snowflakes before her, not knowing how to proceed. She decided to just push through it. "I'm sorry. I was mad, and I took it out on you. I dumped too much responsibility on you all at once. But I had a reason."

"What reason is that?" Her tone suggested more interest than any actual contempt.

"I'm choosing you to be my successor."

It took a moment for the words to process. "Successor?"

"Yes. You're going to be the next Wonderbolts Captain. This week has been half me testing you, and half me getting to take a break."

"Me? B-but I'm still a rookie."

Spitfire rolled her eyes with a grin. "Well it's not like I'm passing the torch right away. You've got a few more years before attempting to fill my horseshoes. Hey, Dash?"

"Yeah?"

"Well... at the spa, I saw my grandpa. And he didn't like for a second what I had let happen to this team or its integrity. And I promised, to him and myself, to fix it. And my first act should be to make it up to the kid I blew off." She finally turned her head, a pitiful combination of pleading and desperation in her eyes. "How can I possibly make it up to him?"

"Actually, heh," Dash smiled sheepishly, yet another plan already in place. This was the final piece she had needed to make it all come together. "I do have something for him, and with your help it will be that much cooler."

And thus the two mares conversed in the night; Dash had suggested her idea, and Spitfire took to it instantly. Preparations would be made tomorrow, they decided, before the air show in the evening. Slowly, the awkward tension between the two ace fliers melted away and was quickly replaced by a budding friendship. Laughs were shared as snowflakes were made, though each still held their competitive, proud spirits. Each tried to outdo the other on who could make the prettier flake, or the most in a minute. Light, harmless vocal jabs quickly became a chorus of 'oh yeah? watch this!'; a nudge became a shoulder bump. All the while, from dusk to dawn, their giggling never ceased.

Across the town, a certain violet colt nestled in his well-earned bed, exhausted both from his very first flight home just that evening, and from the best week of his life.