The Wrong Stuff

Chapters

Back Off Man, I'm a Scientist
When This Baby Hits Eighty-Eight, We're Gonna See Some Serious...
I Think I'm a Clone Now
Not the Shipping You Were Expecting
Let's Get This Party Started
I Just Wanted to Say Good Luck, We're All Counting on You
Friendship and Loathing in Las Pegasus
Take Off and Megaspell the Site From Orbit
It's the Only Way To Be Sure
Spitfire's Day Off
Season Finales Are Built On Hope
The Other Ponies
Negative Ghostrider, the Pattern is Full

Back Off Man, I'm a Scientist

Soarin touched down next to the barracks entrance and trotted inside the common room. Rainbow Dash stood inside, muttering to herself, pacing in front of a blackboard covered with scribbles and diagrams. "No, that's not right..." She wiped a portion clean with an eraser clenched in her wing, then picked up a piece of chalk in her mouth and started correcting the perceived mistake. Soarin paused, unsure what to make of the scene. Most of the diagrams depicted an aerial stunt routine like the Bolts often used in their briefings, but there was quite a lot of... was that math? Not just the easy, exactly-how-much-can-I-blow-in-Las-Pegasus-and-still-make-rent kind of math; Soarin saw variables, he saw tangents. By Celestia, he saw exponents.

The next thing Soarin noticed was her mane. Her straight-neatly combed mane and tail, styled to accentuate her bangs. One of five manestyles she had worn during her epic Initiation Day freakout.

His blood ran cold. "Heeeey Dash, what's going on here?"

Rainbow looked up. "Hey, Soarin! Er, Clipper! LT!"

"'Soarin' is fine, Rainbow," he smiled uneasily. "The callsigns are kinda informal. We usually use them for, y'know, joking around, friendly BSing and stuff." He looked at the diagrams and equations on the blackboard, then back at Rainbow. "You're... okay right? That whole 'Crash' thing, it was supposed to all be in good fun. We had no idea about your bad vibes at flight camp."

Dash cocked an eyebrow at Soarin. "Uhh, yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Soarin hesitantly pointed to her mane. "Well, you still got the um... y'know, the thing with the..."

"Oh, right! The Twi-do!" Dash smiled sheepishly, her mane and tail instantly reverting back to their usual windswept look. "Sorry, I totally forgot about that! I've been working on this stunt that I was hoping we could fit into the summer routine, but it uh, involves some pretty serious aerodynamic stuff."

"Okaay, so what does this have to do with you acting like your friend Rarity?"

"Dude, I know you only met my friends a few times, but c'mon, Twilight's a Princess. There's only four of them in all of Equestria!" She paused. "Wait. Five. I think. "

"Rarity wasn't the alicorn? I remember her competing at the Best Young Flyers competition a while back. That day's all kinda hazy though, ponies tell me I got kicked in the head at some point."

"Yeah, that was... something else entirely. Something that I promised Rarity I wouldn't talk about cause its really embarrassing for her... so I'll tell you later, it's a great story!"

"Right on," Soarin nodded, doing his best impression of a pony who understood what was going on. "Wait, that still doesn't explain what's up with the mane."

"Well, I'm more of a doer than a planner, but this stunt needs to be, like super precise so I was all like, 'who's the best at planning out everything to the tiniest detail?' Twilight's really good at that stuff so I figured I should think like her, y'know, put myself in her shoes. Or her mane, whatever. And it works too, watch!" Wild locks fwumped instantly back to straight. "The linear coefficient of the numeration is equal to the logarithm of the denominasaurus." Back to Rainbowmane. "See! Totally works!"

"That... is..." Soarin replied after a moment's consideration, "such a great idea!! Why didn't you say so before!? Okay, let's see what you've got so far!"

"Here, take a look," Rainbow backed out of the way of the chalkboard so Soarin could inspect it. "Here, it's mostly the same routine we're training for, but I've been working on a way to add the Rainboom into it."

"But nopony else on the team can do a Sonic Rainboom. Captain'll never go for it, we don't do solo acts here."

"Nopony else can do a Sonic Rainboom yet." Dash grinned.

"Wuzza wha?"

"Everypony's seen me do the Rainboom already, it's old news. but if the squad does a formation Rainboom, all of Equestria will be like, whoaa, we thought the Wonderbolts were cool before, but now they're way cooler! Like, a statistically significant amount cooler. And I bet that super-awesome new pony Rainbow Dash taught them all how to do it!" Dash smirked, proving that a pony can be both altruistic and egotistical at the same time.

"...I'm listening..." Soarin replied.

"Here, take a look," Rainbow pointed a hoof to a diagram of a pegasus wing showing areas of local airflow and seperation in the transonic range. Basic Junior Speedsters stuff, really. "The problem most ponies run into when trying for a Rainboom is the pressure buildup, right? As you start to get close, air piles up on your wings in a bow wave. Drags you down, moves the center of pressure so you lose your balance, all of that. You either don't have the wingpower to punch through it or you get shaken up and lose control."

"Right," Soarin nodded. Every speedster in Cloudsdale had tried doing a Sonic Rainboom at some point. It almost a rite of passage, like graduating from flight school or that first time you noticed an attractive mare and you suddenly couldn't fold your wings down. "So how do you do it, then?"

"I can't really explain it, I just angle my wings back a bit and power through the buffets. Sometimes I do something with my hooves to make it look cooler. Twilight says I have a weirdly high amount of flight magic that lets me keep control through the barrier."

"Huh, that makes sense. Wait, by Twilight do you mean the actual Princess or--"

"Yeah, the real Twilight. she, uh, liked to do experiments back in the day. Big time egghead. She said even the fastest pegasuses always spin out right before they hit the Rainboom cause they don't know how to stay in control through it, and I either have a ton of magic or I'm submersibly using it in some way that lets me do what nopony else can."

"Okay, cool, cool, but if you don't know what you're doing then how do you teach the rest of the team?"

"I don't think I need to! Here," Rainbow quickly sketched a Sonic Rainboom blast on what little empty space remained. "Big rainbow shockwaves are always have, like, a ton of magic in them, Right? Like the Elements of Harmony or that thingy that cleaned up Tirek's mess. And a Rainboom is basically the same thing as one of those, right? So if I do a Rainboom as part of a stunt, anypony else in the formation should get a magic boost that could give them the edge to do their own Rainboom!"

"You want me to try and surf a supersonic magic shockwave? While we're in formation??" Rainbow nodded excitedly. "Rainbow," Soarin trotted around Rainbow so he was facing her, "I've been with the Bolts for a while now. I've heard a lot of really bad ideas, and I have to say," he placed a hoof on her shoulder, "that this is totally not one of those at all! C'mon, let's go try this out, I can't wait to do a Rainboom!" He thought for a second, then gasped. "It'll be a Double Rainboom!"

"It'll be even cooler than that once the rest of the team gets it! Like, a... what's the word for double, but with six instead of two?"

Soarin shrugged.

"Ah, who cares? C'mon, we've got records to break!"

Author's Note

I may have cringed throughout all of Rainbow's impression scenes in 'Newbie Dash', but I have to admit, filly's got some range as an actress. Unfortunately, just because she do a dead-on Twilight Sparkle impression doesn't automatically give her an aeronautical-engineering background. The Bolts would have some background in physics and aerodynamics, but not necessarily the more advanced math behind it. (A pilot needs to know how their aircraft works, but not how to build one from the ground up.)

When This Baby Hits Eighty-Eight, We're Gonna See Some Serious...

"Flight Test One-Six, cleared for takeoff runway two-seven, depart Plateau airspace heading one-eight-zero."

"Thank you, mysterious voice!" Soarin chirped happily as he and Rainbow trotted out to the end of the landing strip.

"For crying out loud Soarin, I'm a real pony, not your--you know what, never mind. Just go already."

The two Wonderbolts took wing, skimming along the runway at breakneck speeds before climbing away from HQ. Soarin let Rainbow pull ahead, tucking himself neatly into the wingpony slot to her side. He had seniority, but Dash was the undisputed expert when it came to the sound barrier. They rose above the clouds, weaving through the puffy cumuli. Rainbow rolled and waved as they passed a group of cadets running cloudbusting drills, suppressing a snicker as they waved back only to incite the ire of their drill sergeant. She basked in the nostalgia of it, any one of those ponies could've been her the last year, running the same exercises during her time at the Academy. Well, slower and less awesome versions of her, but the point still stands.

They continued their climb away from the Plateau until they were only visible as specks far above the cloud layer. Soarin flew around Rainbow to face the rookie as she slowed to a hover. "Okay, this looks good!" she shouted, trying to catch her breath in the thin, frigid air. "We'll dive southeast past Ponyville towards Ghastly Gorge, that should give us enough open space for the Rainboom. I'll accelerate slow so you can stay with me 'till the last second, just stay clear of my wake!"

Soarin crossed his forehooves confidently and raised an eyebrow. "I think I can handle it, rook. I'm on your wing the whole way, but once we're done I've gotta pull rank."

"Whuh? For what?"

"Rainboom or not, it's still my job to make sure you know our routine." He paused. "Also, celebration pit stop. There's a farmer in Ponyville that makes the most ridonculous apple pie I've ever eaten." Soarin's eyes momentarily glazed over at the memory. He snapped out of it as a thought popped into his head. "You wouldn't happen to know her, would you?"

"I... might be able to hook you up there. Once this works. C'mon, this altitude's making me dizzy!" Rainbow tucked her wings against her flanks, letting gravity collect on debts owed. Soarin plummeted after her, his thundercloud contrail tearing after her prismatic streak. The two felt the wind push back against their hooves as they dove. Soarin squinted as his goggles dug into his head. As they dropped, he found it more and more difficult to keep pace with Rainbow. Even with their downhill run, Soarin had to pour every bit of energy he had into his wings to keep pace with the younger pegasus at full sprint. He sucked in rapidly-thickening air as fast as he could, struggling against the increasing heat and strain on his wingbones.

"Getting close!" Rainbow shouted back. "Watch the noseover!"

The 'noseover' was where most young racers saw their dreams of glory shattered. The bow wave of compressed air a pegasus had to 'push through' did odd things to one's balance, sending all but the most experienced into a high-speed crash dive. (Junior Speedsters sponsors several PSAs about the danger of teens experimenting with Rainbooms, as well as an aerial health education class. The land under Cloudsdale, to this day uninhabited and scarred with impact craters, is a testament to how well these work.) However, Soarin was no schoolcolt with delusions of grandeur. He shifted his weight and tucked back his wings to avoid the dreaded death drop, but found he could go no faster. He had hit his wall, metaphorically speaking. Possibly literally as well, if anything went wrong at this point. The ground was getting very close. He forced himself to keep the pace up, pushing against the invisible barrier as best he could as Rainbow pulled ahead.

"Aaaany second now!!"

Soarin braced himself.

BOOM!

Prismatic light washed over Soarin. For a moment, he felt electrified. Magic flooded through his body, as if he had trotted up to the Tree of Harmony itself and licked the trunk. He felt alive. He felt fast.

BOOM!

He felt violently ill. He felt like he was going to die.

The world whipped around Soarin, a blur of lights and colors. He felt the blood rush to his head and forehooves as he whirled around and around, spinning like a top as he plummeted straight down. He tried to blink away the blurry images, forcing his eyes to refocus on the horizon line. Ah, shitshitshitshitshit, he thought, keeping in nature with his demeanor as a consummate professional. Flat spin. Okay, just relax. You've done these plenty of times. Remember your training...

"Listen up, boots!" Wind Rider spoke sternly. He rarely shouted or cursed like so many other drill instructors at the Academy. He didn't need to. He had this collected, seen-it-all demeanor about him, as if he had witnessed the legions of Tartarus rise up from beneath the earth and was duly unimpressed. It had quickly earned him the cadets' respect. (That, and his helpful hinting that the 'random' drug screening would take place in two weeks' time, had earned him Cadet Soarin's respect in paticular.) He almost never raised his voice or spoke out of anger because he never needed to.

When Wind Rider did find the need to raise his voice, ponies listened. Because the topic must be one of utmost importance.

"Today, we will be learning spin recognition and recovery. Nopony ever wants to get into a spin, but as Wonderbolts you will be flying the feathered edge of your capabilities. 'Pushing the envelope' is not just a figure of speech here, ponies. With the maneuvers we teach and practice everyday, it will happen, somewhere and sometime you least expect it. Enter our friend the Dizzitron," he motioned to the brightly-painted carnival ride behind him. "This machine allows us to train you to recognize and recover from spins once they've developed. Now," he paused, walking over to a small whiteboard next to the Dizzitron. "Spin recovery boils down to a few simple steps. First and foremost: Never eat less than an hour before conducting spin training."

"BLLLEAAAGHHH!!!!" Soarin's breakfast evacuated his stomach with all the force of a centrifuge. The vomit came in a high-pressure stream, a fire hose of half-digested scrambled eggs, haybacon, potatoes, and even that slice of 'special' pie he had eaten the previous night before jamming out to his Grateful Undead records. The force from the spin left a spiral mosaic of puke slurry in his wake, like a sand-art piece made of bodily fluids and shame. Under different circumstances it could have been quite beautiful, if watched from a distance where neither the splatter nor the smell could reach the viewer.

Finally, after several thousand feet of his best aerial impression of a lawn-sprinkler, Soarin's stomach settled. Step one, check...

"The recovery itself is easily remembered with this acronym," Wind Rider took a marker in his wing, scribbling the letters P-A-R-E vertically on the whiteboard. Power. Ailerons. Rudder. Elevator. "Simple, but when the ground and sky are tumbling end over end and you're too dizzy to spell your own name, simple is good. First is Power. Idle power, no flapping, no matter what your instincts tell you. A spin is essentially an uncoordinated aerodynamic stall, which means your wings will not be making any lift. You cannot power out of a spin, no matter how hard you flap. So force yourself to stop and spread your wings into the glide position."

Soarin suddenly noticed how hard he was working his wings in order to regain some control, any control. He willed himself to hold them straight out, like a colt practicing for his first day of flight school.

"Next is Ailerons; you'll want to try and bank in the opposite direction to stop the spin, but remember, your wings are stalled. They aren't going to do you any good until you can nose down and get the air flowing properly over them again. No banking. Luckily, we still have our tails, which brings us to number three: Rudder. Use your tail and hindlegs to yaw in the other direction to arrest the spin. It may take a couple turns, but as long as you hold full opposite yaw, it will stop."

Soarin shifted his tail and hindlegs to the left and held them there. Slowly but surely, the whirling blur in front of him slowed down, the world straightening out around him.

"Last is Elevator; you've arrested the spinning but you are still in a stalled condition. Nose down to get the wind flowing back through your wings properly and break the stall."

Soarin leaned foward, feeling a tingle in his primary feathers as the wind stopped whipping through them bottom-to-top and returned to a more natural flow. He sighed in relief, his heart slowing to a more natural pace. Now all he had to worry about was finding Rainbow and the rapidly approaching ground wait what?

"Try to remember that even after you recover, you'll still be in a dive. It seems like stating the obvious, but with the adrenaline rush you'd be surprised how many ponies save themselves from a crash spin only to forget to keep flying afterwards. We get more CFIT accidents that way."

WHUMP

* * * * *

Everything was pain. Pain and darkness. Everything was pain and darkness and... moistness?? Not to mention a horrific overpowering smell. Okay, so everything was quite a few things. You could say everything was everything, even. (Though you'd be beaten to a pulp by Fleetfoot if you did, and you'd rightly deserve it.) Soarin groaned. He struggled to move, feeling soft dampness press against every limb. Straining his neck, he forced his head up, his vision clearing as foul-smelling damp brown detritus fell off it. He squinted, eyes adjusting to the early dawn sunrise. A quick glance around told him that he was in a wagon filled with the substance, which had the appearance of damp dirt but smelled infinitely worse. It must have cushioned his fall from the heavens, remember that one for the bar later, and was likely owned by the gargantuan red stallion staring at him with a bemused, slightly annoyed expression.

Soarin put on his best celebrity smile. "Hi giant pony!"

The fellow regarded him for a few terse moments. "...Howdy." Not a talker, this one.

"Am, uh, am I alive? You're not like St. Apple at the gates of Elysium or anything?"

"Eeeyup. Yer a few miles south of Ponyville. Might be a lil' roughed up, but yer alive."

"I'll be fine. I've had worse." Soarin sneezed, the stench was getting to him. "This... isn't dirt, is it?"

"...Nope."

"I was afraid of that..." Soarin clambered out of the cart, making a face at the disgusting lifesaving material. He squinted at the sun, still sitting on the horizon. The sky was still grey too, as if the sun hadn't had time to warm it up yet. Soarin looked around in confusion. He and the wagon-pulling earthpony were on a wooded dirt path identical to thousands of others all over Equestria. He could spot Ponyville further down the path, at the bottom of a slight hill. Mist shrouded the town, the sun not yet high enough to burn it off.

Soarin scratched his mane, dislodging something slimy he tried not to think about. It was almost noon when he and Dash took off, fog shouldn't last that long. He turned to his new friend. "This is going to sound a little wierd, but did Princess Celestia, like... call a mulligan on raising the sun today? Maybe reset it or something?"

The other pony gave him a deadpan stare. "...Nope."

"Was I unconscious for an entire day then?"

"Nope. A minute at th' most."

"...Huh." Soarin was at a loss for words, which didn't happen often. Best to find Rainbow and get back to base, he thought. I can figure out what happened later. He shook himself off and spread his wings. As he looked back at his crimson savior, about to wish the pony farewell, something clicked in his head. Ponyville... country-boy accent... apple Cutie Mark... "Do you... happen to have a sister who sells apple products? Orange, 'bout yay high, always wears a hat?"

"Eeyup, Applejack," the stallion replied, suddenly taking a much more guarded stance. "Ah know you," he replied tersely. "Yer the famous racer that keeps sendin' her love letters."

"Oh, no! It's nothing like that, I apologize for any misunderstanding!" Soarin waved his hooves apologetically, putting on his 'public relations' face. "I have no romantic intentions for your sister, good sir! I just really wanted to get all up in her pie!"

"..."

"I'll... I should probably leave now, shouldn't I?"

"Ah think that'd be best fer everypony."

Author's Note

Keepin' it classy here, as usual. I have Chapter 5 (Spitfire's time to shine) almost ready to go but I still need to write Chapter 4, (Soarin and Rainbow, the PONIES THAT TIME FORGOT!), so maybe a couple days to a week then two more chapters. That'll wrap up the current fiasco, leaving the Bolts to move on to their next adventure. (The harrowing world of GOVERNMENT CONTRACTING)

Any thoughts/ideas/etc, let me know

I Think I'm a Clone Now

"Ughh..." Rainbow groaned as she drifted down towards Prism Plateau in a wobbly glide. That Rainboom had done a number on her, the second shock wave had sent her tumbling out of control. She caught herself easily, because she was a professional flyer and didn't need to stop and think about the spin-recovery technique she had practiced dozens of times on the Dizzitron, but the blast and subsequent roller-coaster-ride had left her feeling ragged. The whole event was a blur in her memory. She remembered the blast of her Rainboom, and she... thought there might've been a second one? It was so hazy. She remembered whirling around, seeing a miasma of bright colors and... clocks? Running backwards? That didn't make a whole lot of sense. At the moment, however, her strange awesomeness-induced hallucinations weren't her first priority. She needed to patch herself up and get back out there. Maybe enlist the rest of the team's help to scour the fields south of Ponyville for what was left of their second-in-command. It couldn't hurt to catch a nap in there somewhere either, her wings were really sore from riding out that shock wave.

Rainbow touched down unsteadily outside the entrance to the barracks. She stopped briefly to dust herself off and rearrange a few bent primaries, then trotted up to the door of the stunt team's quarters.

As she hoofed the door open, she heard a familiar voice. "C'mon, let's go try this out, I can't wait to do a Rainboom! ...It'll be a Double Rainboom!"

Oh good, Soarin made it back. Rainbow thought as she heard the flight leader yammer on about something. She felt relieved at the realization that he wasn't injured, and that she could cross 'Corpse Retrieval' off her to-do list. (She only had a to-do list in the first place because she took her Twilight Sparkle impressions very seriously. She was a method actor.)

"It'll be even cooler than that once the rest of the team gets it! Like, a... what's the word for double, but with six instead of two?"

Rainbow's ears twitched. Who was that? The voice was harsh and raspy, definitely a stallion's. But which stallion? It definitely wasn't Lightning Streak, and there weren't exactly a lot of colts in the demonstration squadron. "Sorry about the Rainboom, LT!" Rainbow called out as she trotted through the barracks's common room back towards the bunks. "Totally wasn't ready for it. I think maaaaybe acting like my friend doesn't automatically make me as book-smart as she is."

More voices from the back. "Um, did you just say something?" Soarin asked of somepony.

"Me? That didn't sound anything like me! More like a dragon with strep throat or something."

"Hey, Soarin?" Rainbow called as she approached the doorway to the bunkroom. "We're cool, right? Cause I'm thinking that, if we don't tell Cap, everypony will just think it was thunder from that storm the weather crews are worki--" Rainbow stopped dead as she reached the doorway, staring wide-eyed into the Wonderbolts' sleeping quarters at the pony talking to Soarin. The sky-blue pegasus with a brilliant prismatic mane staring back at her with an identical expression of shock on her face.

Soarin looked back and forth between the two mirrored pegasi. This was the kind of out-of-left-field situation that called for leadership, for calm heads who could adapt and think outside the box to prevent any escalation. This was the kind of situation that called for a Wonderbolt officer.

His reply was clear, concise and to the point. "Bwuh?"

"CHANGELING!" Both Dashes snapped out of it at the same time, lunging at each other. They rolled around, each swinging at the other with hooves and wings. One Rainbow managed to pin the other, gaining the upper hoof for only a moment before she was launched across the room by her foe's hindhooves. Soarin dove out of the way as a prismatic projectile hurtled through the space he was just standing in and crashed into the blackboard. The launched Rainbow came barrelling back into the fight, tackling her double across several bunks before crashing into a heap on top of Misty Fly's footlocker.

*WHACK* "Thought you could replace me, huh? Bet you didn't count on this!" *SMACK*

"Hey, you're the spy here!" *WHAM*

"Yeah right! What are you doing, infiltrating the awesomest flyers in Equestria so you can sabotage them for your evil queen!?" *OVERHEAD TOSS!*

"Nuh uh! What're you trying to pull, gonna feed on the love that my teammates have for each other?" *HOOFPUNCH!*

"Hey! Wait a minute..." Soarin protested, still completely clueless as to what he should be doing. Maybe try to stop them? Damn, they're REALLY going at it... I should let them work this out themselves...

*CHOKEHOLD!* "Change back already! You're not getting anywhere near my friends!"

"Gahhhhh..." One Rainbow desperately tried to pull the other's foreleg off of her neck. "I'm--gak--not a changeling, YOU are! Soarin--urk--a little help here?" She pried herself free, leaping clear of her doppelganger and taking a defensive stance.

"She's lying, Soarin! I'm the real one, we were just talking about our plans to do the Rainboom, remember!"

"That was me! We had that conversation this morning!" Both ponies stopped snarling at each other, looking at Soarin expectantly.

Soarin involuntarily backed up a step. "Well, um, see the thing is... ehh..." He gasped and pointed dramatically behind the two with a hoof. "Hey look! It's the Wonderbolts!"

"WHERE!?" Twin cyan heads snapped around in excitement, searching for their foalhood heroes.

There was nothing behind them except overturned bunks and the contents of several scattered footlockers. "Hey! There's nopony else here Soarin, what are you--oh..."

Soarin had vanished. Rainbow Dash glanced at Rainbow Dash sheepishly, rubbing a hoof up and down her foreleg. "Did we seriously just fall for that?"

"I think so. This is pretty embarrassing."

"Yeah..." Rainbow pawed at the barracks's scuffed linoleum floor. "You maybe want to take a break from fighting? I'm pretty beat up."

"Sure! You've got a mean right hoof for a changeling. I don't remember any of your buddies at the wedding punching that hard."

"Thanks! Seriously though, I'm not the changeling."

"Well I know I'm not, so you kinda have to be! I mean, how else could there be two of me? Besides the mirror pool that Pinkie found or when Twilight met herself from the future or like a disguise spell okay there's actually a lot of reasonable explanations for this now that I say them out loud."

"...We did not think this through, did we?"

"No," Rainbow chuckled at her double's remark. "No we didn't."

"..."

"Battleclouds?"

"Battleclouds."

* * * * *

Soarin galloped as fast as he could away from the barracks. Wonderbolts, cadets, and support ponies all watched him as he stumbled down Prism Plateau's center boulevard towards the runway, running from pony to pony and raving like a loon. The experienced pegasi paid him little mind other than to steer clear of his path; while the sight was unusual, scenes like this were not unheard of at Wonderbolts HQ. From Soarin's frenzied rants about clones, most ponies just assumed he had wandered in front of a mirror and been caught by surprise.

"You have to believe me!" Soarin cried to a nervous-looking group of Academy cadets he'd cornered near a hangar. The poor trainees backed away from the wild-eyed officer until their flanks were pressed against the corrugated cloudluminum wall. "Somepony's cloning Wonderbolts! You've gotta help me stop them from killing each other!"

"Uhh, we'd like to, sir," one brave mare spoke up as her fellow cadets courageously pushed her to the front of the group. "But... but... but Sergeant Fly said if we're not at formation at fourteen-hundred for drill practice, she'd geld us! Even the fillies! Which doesn't sound physically possible..."

"Oh, it is," another cadet piped up. "My mom's an ER nurse, she's seen some nasty stuff."

"Eeeeeeewwwww."

"I know, right?"

"Listen!" Soarin half-shouted, half-pleaded. "This could be a real emergency, somepony's trying to replace us with clones! Are you really that afraid of Misty Fly that you'd rather practice marching than help stop an evil villian!?"

"Hell yes," the mare stated matter-of-factly. The others nodded in agreement. "Hooves down, sir. It's not even a contest."

"Oh..." Soarin remarked, disappointed. He could've used their help, but they did have a point. Misty Fly was a very effective drill sergeant. "Okay, carry on then, I suppose. Thanks anyway." The mare leading the cadet group gave him a crisp salute, which he returned halfheartedly before they scurried off. Soarin looked around the base for any other ponies that might be able to help. He needed to find his teammates soon and get back to the barracks, who knows what kind of damage the two Rainbow Dashes were doing while he was running all over the plateau?

* * * * *

"A-6."

"Miss. So, I don't think you're a mirror pool clone. You're not jumping around yelling 'Awesome!' over and over. D-4."

"Hit. True. Maybe you're from world inside Twilight's portal? The one where Sunset Shimmer lives? F-7."

"Miss. Nah, I'm from Equestria. Are you? E-4."

"Hit, dammit. Nope, why would I ask if you were from there if I was from there? Wait, what happened to you today?"

"Well, I showed Soarin the Rainboom stunt, like you were when I found you."

"Uh-huh."

"Then we went and did it--"

"Hehehe, did it."

"C'mon, really?"

"..."

"Okay, that was pretty funny. So you tried out the Rainboom, then what?"

"The blast was a lot bigger this time. I kinda blacked out for a second. After I came to I couldn't find Soarin, so I came back here and ran into you, and then we fought for a while, and now we're playing a board game."

"Huh. And you said you had the same conversation with Soarin earlier? The one that we were having when you found us? What time did you guys do the Rainboom?"

"Like, noon-ish?"

"It's only eight. Er, zero-eight-hundred."

"So, what, did I go back in time then?" Future-Rainbow scratched her mane. "Is this the past?"

"I think it's the present," Past-Rainbow replied, poring over the board. She'd already lost her cirrus AND her lenticular, and the outlook didn't look good. "Cause you're from the future, that'd make this the present. H-9."

"Miss. But what if where I'm from is the present? Wouldn't that make this the past then? C-4?"

"Agh, hit. But if you're from the present, then when's the future? B-11."

"Miss. I dunno. Maybe its further than when I'm from. Like dinnertime or something. F-4."

"Hit, you busted my cumulonimbus! This doesn't make any sense, we should have all the same moves! How are you so good at this!?"

"Duh, I'm from the future, remember?"

"Oh, right!"

Author's Note

Soarin panics while Rainbow ~~plays with herself~~ shows remarkable restraint considering her character, but hey, its not like she hasn't been in this exact situation before.

I chopped this chapter in half as the word count was ballooning quickly, apologies if it's a little 'off' as a result. The next one should be out in another day or two (featuring... *gasp* OTHER CHARACTERS!!!!) then hopefully Spitfire's chapter soon after, which will be the less-than-thrilling finale for this paticular arc. 'Clone Saga' was taken so I'm thinking either 'Soarin and Rainbow's Excellent Adventure' or 'The Life and Times of Supreme-Lord-Commander Fleetfoot and Her Loser Coworkers'.

Not the Shipping You Were Expecting

"Fleet! There you are!" Soarin spotted his friend trotting near the ops center, chatting with Surprise. Both mares turned at the sound of urgency in Soarin's voice, watching him trot towards them. Fleetfoot was apprehensive and a little suspicious; Soarin wasn't normally the type to worry; you didn't perform high-speed stunts in front of a hundred thousand ponies without learning to deal with a little anxiety. Then again, he was fairly gullible. Fleetfoot felt the corners of her mouth twitch upwards in a smile as she remembered the myriad of pranks she'd pulled on him over the years. It was almost too easy at this point.

Surprise merely hopped up and down in excitement, grinning madly. Hanging out with Fleetfoot was okay, but now she got to spend time with one of her bestest friends? A few wild curls popped out of her windswept manestyle with loud proings, like springs shooting out of an old mattress.

"Hey Clip, what's up?" Fleetfoot gave her wingpony a once-over as he skidded to a stop in front of them. He looked disheveled, like he'd taken a bad crash. She gagged as an overpowering stench assaulted her nostrils. "Gross! You reek, dude! What happened to you?!"

"I kinda spun out and crash-landed."

"Into what, Neigh Jersey?" Fleetfoot spat, holding her nose with a hoof.

"I'd... rather not talk about it."

If Soarin's smell bothered Surprise, she gave no indication. "Hii Soarin!" She gave him an ear-to-ear grin. "Fleetfoot and I are working out over by the park! Up for some wrasslin'?"

"...Maybe later," Soarin replied, wincing at the memory of the last time he 'worked out' with Surprise. The bubbly mare wasn't the plateau's top Crab Maga instructor for nothing. Her daily fitness regimen usually included painful submission holds on whichever pony was unlucky enough to be her sparring partner, in this case Fleetfoot. "Listen, I need a hoof really bad here, I can't find Dash anywhere! We were practicing south of Ponyville and there was this explosion caused by, erm, something totally unrelated! She could be hurt!"

"Did you consider the possibility that your nasty musk scared her off? Next time you have a date, ease up on cologne. Seriously, eugh."

"C'mon Fleet! This is serious, what if something happened to her?"

"We're talking about Rainbow Dash, right? The same pony who walked off a five-hundred-knot collision with the 'Welcome to Prism Plateau' sign just last week?" Fleetfoot arched an eyebrow. "Trust me Clipper, your little marefriend's fine."

"Fleeeeeeeet!" Soarin ~~whined~~ used his considerable persuasive talents to sway his wingmare's mind. Fleetfoot sighed and rolled her eyes, letting everpony know how gracious and generous it was of her to help a friend in need.

"Fine, I'll do it. But only because my alternative is to let this pile of crazy," she waved a wing at Surprise, "pummel me until I can't see straight. Sorry, Surprise," Fleetfoot turned to Surprise, disappointment clouding her perky demeanor, "as much as I was looking forward to stopping a few hoofpunches with my face, you'll have to take a rain check."

"Awwwww..." Surprise hoofed the ground sadly for a moment before brightening back up, her smile returning as she gave Soarin a lighthearted salute. "Don't worry, Soarin!. Fleetfoot and I are on the case! We'll find your missing rookie! You two will be back together in no time, then you can finally tell her how you feel! Then you can kiss her and get married and have lots of foals and be together forever and ever and ever!"

"...You too? Once. I danced with her one time."

Fleetfoot snickered and gave Surprise a nod of respect. "Remind me later, I owe you a hoofbump. For now, map." Surprise pulled a map and marker from her mane and hoofed it over to Fleetfoot. "Clip, mark out your flight plan on here so we can figure out our search grid. Slowpoke, can you check with Commander Spit Take and make sure Dash never landed? She could've flown back to base and Clipper just missed her."

"Sure, I'll ask all the other Bolts if anypony's seen her too! Like that pony flying towards us that looks exactly like you, Soarin!"

"What?" Soarin and Fleetfoot turned their heads to follow Surprise's hoof-pointing. Sure enough, a stallion with a blue mane was skimming low across the ground towards them, yelling incoherently.

"CLONES, MAN! CLOOONES!"

"He does kinda look like you..." Fleetfoot remarked. "Maybe he doesn't stink like a Diamond Dog sewer main."

The stallion touched down at full speed, barely managing to stop before crashing into the three confused Wonderbolts. Sure enough, the newcomer looked exactly like Soarin, albeit not covered in foul-smelling refuse.

"Fleet! There you are!" the other Soarin grabbed Fleetfoot, fear in his eyes. "We've got a big problem! Somepony's cloning us! There's two copies of Rainbow Dash trashing the barracks right now! We gotta stop it before they replace anyone else with evil clones!"

"Uh, dude..." Fleetfoot put a hoof on the newcomer's muzzle, rotating his head towards his dumbstruck doppelganger. "Little late for that."

The two Soarins stared at each other. The new one let got of Fleetfoot and slowly began backing away from the group. "Excuse me for a moment," he calmly stated.

He then bolted, flying away from them as fast as he possibly could. "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" His scream slowly fading as he disappeared off into the distance.

Fleetfoot brushed herself off. "Okay, so we went from missing Crash to two Crashes, that's... better, right? At least that version of you doesn't smell," she remarked to Soarin, who was still trying to process what he just saw.

"I am so confused right now..."

* * * * *

"So yeah, that's basically the story. I did a Rainboom so amazing that it sent me back in time," Future-Rainbow addressed the gathered crowd of Fleetfoot, Surprise, Misty Fly, Lightning Streak, her past self and two Soarins. Past-Rainbow elebowed her in the withers. "Oh right, Soarin helped too."

"Dude, I am like so embarrassed," Clean-Soarin apologized to Dirty-Soarin. Dirty-Soarin had since showered off, but the new nickname was sticking thanks in large part to Fleetfoot. "I saw copies of everypony and my mind just went to the worst place. I thought you were an evil clone, now I see you're a... a..."

"Regular clone," Dirty-Soarin replied. "Or time-clone, I'm you from the future."

"Whoa." Clean-Soarin was in awe at the idea. "The future!? Sweet! Are there robots!?"

"I'm only from like three hours into the future," Dirty-Soarin told his past self, "so I don't think so. Unless..."

"Unless the robots are designed to look just like us in so they can infiltrate the pony resistance!" Both Soarins finished the thought simultaneously, nodding excitedly in agreement. Sure, they had plenty of good friends, but here was somepony who truly understood them, who they could connect with on a level they never could before. The two Soarins slowly turned their heads to stare at Lightning Streak suspiciously.

"Hey! I am not a robot!!" Lightning Streak harrumphed angrily, glaring at the two versions of his XO currently eyeballing him.

Dirty-Soarin took his annoyed statement at face value, but Clean-Soarin wasn't about to give up so easily. "If you're not a robot, then what's six times six?"

"...Really? I'm the squadron's bookie, of course I'm gonna know that."

"It's thirty-six! Everypony knows that!" Surprise offered helpfully, just happy to be included.

Clean-Soarin let out a startled gasp. "It's spreading..." he whispered to his future counterpart, who nodded in agreement.

"Nopony's a robot, Clip. We've been over this," Fleetfoot reminded her fellow officer as she paced back and forth at the forefront of the Ops center's war room. The Bolts had commandeered the room after realizing the doppelganger issue. Soon after, the intelligence and strategy ponies who normally worked in the building had determined that it was in the nation's best interests if they took a working lunch. Maybe a half day, anything to avoid touching this 'crisis' with a ten-foot lance. "We do have a problem, though. Rainbow... Rainbows... the both of you may claim not to be changelings, but we have no idea whether it's the truth or part of a changeling web of deception. Same for you, Clipper."

"That's crazy, neither of us are changelings!"

"That's just what a Changeling would say. For all I know, you're all changelings. Which is why, until we have determined otherwise, I'm assuming command of the squadron."

"HEY!" Both Soarins jumped up, shocked. "I'm XO! I'm in charge while Cap's not here! You can't just decide you want to run the squadron!"

"Okay, so you want to keep command, Clip. I'm okay with that." Fleetfoot arched an eyebrow. "Just answer me this. Which one?"

"Huh?" Clean-Soarin paused, confused.

Dirty-Soarin scratched his head. "What do you mean?"

"Which one of you is squadron leader? Even if you aren't changelings, the regs are pretty clear. WR-904-B, paragraph one: 'In order to preserve a clear chain of command, every squadron must have the position of commander filled at all times. If for any reason a commander is compromised or unable to perform the duties required, the position will be filled by the most senior officer in the squadron. No splitsies.' And you, my friend, are compromised."

"Am not!" Both Soarins protested.

"Are too," Fleetfoot shot back as she took her seat at the head of the war room conference table, resting her forehooves on the polished oak as she addressed the Soarins. "One, there's two of you and you can't share the squadron leader job, and two, you might be changelings. I'm next seniority-wise, so I'm in command 'till we get this figured out." Fleet crossed her forelegs with a smirk as everypony ~~glowered~~ marveled at her effortless coup de'tat.

"...The manual does NOT say 'no splitsies.'" Misty Fly pointed out.

"I was paraphrasing. The point still stands. Lightning Streak!" Fleet called her squadmate with most authoritative tone she could manage. "The records please."

Lightning Streak trotted to the front of the war room conference table, pulling a manila folder from underneath his wing. it held a copy of the air-traffic control tower's daily duty log. Commander Spit Take had kindly given it up with only the caveat that he be left out of whatever shitstorm the Wonderbolts were currently cooking up. "Let's see, two unscheduled landings between the start of operations and when the duplicates were discovered. Airmare Rainbow Dash touched down at oh-seven-thirty-five and 1st Lieutenant Soarin at oh-eight-oh-five. Both had valid transponders, and neither were logged departing Plateau airspace by the swing shift crew."

"See??" Future-Rainbow stamped a hoof. "That proves we're not infiltrators! How we both have the same transponder gem if one of us were a changeling?" She was getting frustrated, she and her past self both. They had already buried the hatchet, (changeling-wise, she figured Past-Rainbow would want a Battleclouds rematch at some point,) so why couldn't the team see it the same way? Or, more specifically, why couldn't Fleetfoot?

"That's a good point," Fleetfoot acknowledged, "but it's not concrete. IFF gems can be forged or stolen. There's only one way to know for sure. We have to administer... the test."

A chorus of gasps echoed through the room. Surprise held both hooves in front of her muzzle to keep from shrieking with equal parts excitement and fear. Both Soarins turned a pale shade of green. Lightning Streak winced as a cold shiver suddenly ran down his back. Misty Fly grimaced lightly, an impressive amount of a motion for a pony who could be mistaken for a statue unless she was shouting intimidating things at new recruits.

Neither Past-Rainbow nor Future-Rainbow felt comfortable with this reaction. Past leaned over to Future, whispering in her ear uneasily. "What's the test?"

"I was hoping you'd know. It doesn't sound good." Future-Rainbow whispered back.

"How would I know? You're the one from the future!"

"Like... timelines and stuff... I don't know!"

"You'll both find out soon enough," Fleetfoot informed the two worried Rainbows, the barest trace of an evil smile flickering over her impassive muzzle. "We'll do the Soarins first. Surprise, Misty Fly, prepare them for... the test." Misty rose from her seat at the table and trotted over to Dirty-Soarin, who looked queasier than ever.

"Misty," Dirty-Soarin pleaded. "You don't have to do this..."

"Sorry, Soarin, Fleet's in charge and orders are orders." Misty replied apologetically, pulling him to his feet and leading him out of the war room. "I kind of want to see what happens, too. Call it morbid curiosity."

"C'mon, don't worry, it'll be fun!" Surprise assured Clean-Soarin with an earnest grin as she escorted him out.

"You said the same thing when you tried to teach me Emu-Jitsu and I ended up in on sick call for two weeks!"

"Shh, everything's going to be fineee, Auntie Surprise won't let anything bad happen..." Surprise lied through her sympathetic smile. Trembling, Clean-Soarin followed her out.

* * * * *

Five ponies peered through the one-way glass window of Interrogation Room B with a mixture of horror and fascination. Inside, two Soarins sat at either side of a dented metal table, facing each other. The harsh light of a bare lightbulb highlighted the discomfort evident on their faces. "Um, guys?" One Soarin asked, the nervousness in his voice evident even through the room's intercom setup. "I don't think I can do this."

Lightning Streak tore his eyes away from the scene on the far side of the glass and turned to Fleetfoot. The newly-crowned commander sat back in a comfortable chair surrounded by Academy cadets. One recruit brought her a mojito while two more fiddled with an odd device that resembled a cross between a movie projector and a heart-rate monitor. "Hate to interrupt your power trip Fleet, but he's gonna flake."

Fleet steepled her hooves and leaned foward in her chair, sipping her mojito as she did so. "He will. I know Clip, he's a team player. Loyal to a fault. He knows this is for the good of the Bolts, he just needs to build up the stomach." Sunlight glinted off the sunglasses she had 'liberated' from Spitfire's office, which was strange because the neither the interrogation nor the observation rooms had any windows to the outside. "Misty, is it ready?"

Misty Fly looked to her cadets, who nodded nervously. "Changeling scanner online, ma'am," she informed Fleetfoot. "Good work recruits, now get back to your platoons." The cadets scattered, leaving Fleetfoot thoroughly unpampered.

"Aw, Dizz, you could've let them stay."

"They're not butlers, Fleet, and you're not an Alpacistani dictator." Misty Fly glared daggers at Fleetfoot. "You're our interim leader, that's the only reason I'm tolerating this charade. Do not abuse it."

"Hmph. Don't lie, you want to see this as much as I do." No visible reaction from Misty Fly. "Fine, let's get this wagon rolling." Fleetfoot hoofed the intercom that allowed her to speak to the ponies on the other side of the window. "You can do it, Soarin. The both of you. The scanner is running, but we need something for it to scan."

Both Soarins nodded miserably before facing each other, trying to find the courage for what had to be done. Fleetfoot leaned foward, anticipating what would happen next. Surprise looked ready to burst. Lightning Streak covered his eyes with a wing, peeking through the feathers.

Future-Rainbow gulped. She leaned in next to Fleetfoot. "What's happening?"

Fleetfoot shushed her. "That scanner can sense the magic changelings use to absorb pony emotions. If one of them is a changeling, a show of affection will trigger their love-eating reflex, and we'll be able to pick it up."

Future and Past-Rainbow's eyes went wide as they suddenly understood what Fleetfoot was talking about. "Wait," Past-Rainbow spoke under her breath. "Does that mean--"

"Shh!" Fleetfoot held up a hoof. "It's happening!"

The two Soarins leaned towards each other, grimacing. Clean-Soarin looked like he was about to vomit. Neither made eye contact with the other as they moved their heads closer.

Their muzzles brushed up against one another's. Surprise gasped, her breath caught in her throat. Fleetfoot's grin widened.

Their lips locked.

"YES!!!" Fleetfoot slammed her hooves on the table in excitement. "More! More tongue! Touch hooves!"

"DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT!" Lightning Streak swore in disappointment.

Past and Future-Rainbows eyes went wide and their cheeks colored. Misty Fly let out an indecipherable grunt to acknowledge that yes, something had happened.

"It's... so... beautiful..." Surprise's eyes were wide as dinner plates, taking in every detail of the hot stallion-on-stallion action before her.

In the blink of an eye, the moment was over. Both versions of Soarin broke apart and retreated to opposite sides of the room, retching. Each looked for a cup of mouthwash to gargle with. Or acid. Anything, really. "Eugh!" One of them exclaimed. "Dude, you taste like Axe body spray!"

"Oh, like you're any better!" The other cried out. "I crashed into a fertilizer wagon earlier, I had to take a shower. Besides, it was your deodorant!"

On the other side of the glass, Lightning Streak sighed. "Bravo, Flatfoot. No way in Tartarus would I think he'd actually go through with it."

"Like I said, Clip's a team player if there ever was one," Fleetfoot cackled as she rubbed her hooves together. "C'mon, gimmie my winnings! Gimmie gimmie gimmie!"

Lightning Streak rolled his eyes, tossing a bag of bits to Fleetfoot with a wing. Both Rainbows looked around the room quizzically as Surprise and Misty Fly likewise exchanged money.

"I... I don't know what's going on..." Past-Rainbow stated. "Did you guys plan this or something?"

"Hah, no." Lightning Streak groused as he watched Fleetfoot inspect her hard-earned prize. "We really were concerned about changelings. Ever since the wedding the entire military's been on high alert for infiltrators. There's plenty of ways to screen a pony, though. This," he gestured towards the window, where both Soarins were frantically wiping their mouths, "was all Fleetfoot."

"I bet Lightning Streak that I could get Soarin to kiss himself." Fleetfoot looked very pleased with her work. "Now who's rich and doesn't have barracks-cleaning-duty for the rest of the month?" She curled her wings, pointing two primaries at herself in a 'thumbs-up' gesture. "THIS girl!"

"It... it was so beautiful..." Surprise sniffed, wiping her eyes with a wing. She embraced Fleetfoot in a hug strong enough to rearrange vertebrae. "No words... thank you, Fleet!"

"This was all for a prank??" Future-Rainbow asked, shocked.

"Most of it," Fleetfoot admitted. "There's still two of each of you, but hey, at least you're not changelings, so that's good right? Plus, free dude-show and I won some money. Wow, leadership is easy."

"That seems really over-the-top, ma'am." Future-Rainbow said, hesitant about criticizing a superior. "Maybe you went too far?"

"You didn't seem to think so a minute ago, kid. Or were you just stretching your wings out?"

Future-Rainbow flushed and shook her head. Past-Rainbow raised a hoof, as if she were back at Junior Speedsters. Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment. "So, um," she started, "do we have to go?"

"Nah, I think we got enough proof with Clip's one-pony theater in there. Plus, there's plenty of emotions flying around in here, if either of you were a changeling the machine would've dinged you by now." Fleet grabbed the scanner's handle with a wing, rolling it over to face both Rainbow Dashes. It bzzzed a negative reply, and she shoved it to the other side of the room. "See?"

Past-Rainbow's face was crimson. She glanced at Future-Rainbow, who's blush matched her own. "Are you sure? I mean, only way to be safe, right?"

Fleetfoot gave the two doppelgangers a deadpan stare. They both fidgeted and looked away, desperately hoping to hide their embarrassment. "Right. I'm going to leave that alone because you're new. Everypony gets one, Crash."

"Thanks, ma'am."

"No problem. So, time travel, huh?"

"Yep."

"Can you do it again? You know, send you back to the future or whatever?"

"I don't think so." Future-Rainbow scratched her chin with a wing. "When I did it before, I went into the past, not the future." She suddenly brightened, nudging Past-Rainbow. "Maybe I could stay here and you could go back to the past?"

Past-Rainbow's muzzle scrunched as she thought about it. "Hmm... what about the Rainbow of that time?"

"You could send her back like we're doing now!" Future-Rainbow grinned. "Ma'am, when's evening chow?"

Fleetfoot raised an eyebrow. "About an hour, why?"

"See! It's almost dinnertime!" Future-Rainbow exclaimed to Past-Rainbow. "That means we're in the future, so you're going back to the present!"

"Hey, yeah!" Past-Rainbow brightened. "All we need is another Rainboom!"

Fleetfoot hopped out of her chair, smoothing out her fur. "Sounds like you two have this all figured out, I'll leave you to it." She trotted for the door, eager to count her winnings and cherish the memories (and a few high-definition polaroids) of Soarin making out with himself. "I could get used to this. I should talk to Spitfire, I wonder if the CO spot for Third Squadron is still open..." she mused herself.

*CRACK* *BOOM!*

"What was that!?"

* * * * *

Eight ponies galloped outside the ops center, looking frantically for the source of the explosion. Nopony saw any smoke or burning buildings, the usual signs of trouble at Prism Plateau. The Wonderbolts stopped, looking around in confusion for the disturbance. The same scene repeated all over the base, ponies rushing out of barracks, hangars, and armories, searching for the blast that still echoed across the clouds.

"Look!" Surprise cried, pointing towards the sky. "Up there!" Everpony looked up and gasped.

A rippling rainbow shock wave raced outwards across the upper cloud layer, vaporizing clouds in all directions as it rolled away from the plateau. At the epicenter, a prismatic portal shimmered with radiant light. Four tiny specks tumbled out of it, spinning wildly towards the ground. As they fell, the Bolts saw that the shapes were ponies, flailing to regain control as they fell. They spread their wings, preparing to rescue the stricken flyers, but the ponies fell too fast to react. One, in paticular, was careening straight for them at blistering speed.

"Incoming! Everypony take cover!" Fleetfoot shouted. The shocked group dove as the falling pony plowed into the ground in front of them, kicking up concrete dust as she gouged a hole into the ops center's courtyard.

Eight ponies watched as the newcomer stood up in the newly-formed crater. She shook her head, shaking loose the concrete dust coating her and revealing a brilliant prismatic mane. She looked at Past and Future-Rainbows as she spoke.

"Seriously, guys? That idea you had to solve the time-travel thingy? Do NOT do it. It doesn't work, trust me."

*CRACK* *BOOM!*

Two more Rainboom blasts ripped open the sky. Eight ponies fell out of one, sixteen the other. Air-raid sirens blared to life across Prism Plateau. The emergency PA system crackled to life, Commander Spit Take's voice broadcasting all across the base.

"Scramble! Scramble! Scramble! Alert fliers get off the ground now, we're under attack! All ponies to Combat Readiness One!"

Fleetfoot gaped at the temporal invasion dropped from the sky. She looked around at her squadron, all staring up with similar expressions of disbelief. Whelp, you got what you wanted, she thought. Only one thing to do now.

"Soarin?" She asked. Both Soarins jumped, like they were waking up from a dream. "After careful consideration, I've decided that you're right. I hereby step down as squadron commander, that position is rightfully yours."

"Wha?"

"I know you'll make us proud, buddy." Fleetfoot patted Dirty-Soarin on the back while giving Clean-Soarin a sympathetic look. "Good luck explaining this one to Cap."

Author's Note

"Spitfire has fallen! I, ~~Starscream~~ Fleetfoot, am now leader of the Decepticons!"

Let's Get This Party Started

"Mhmmm..."

"Indubitably..."

Captain Spitfire lifted the highball glass sitting in front of her up to her muzzle. The light from the crystal chandelier shone through the bright amber liquid, showing off its exceptional clarity. High-end spirits, none of the contaminants a pony might find in cheaper booze. She regarded the drink for a moment. An elegant choice of refreshment, for civilized ponies to enjoy while discussing civilized topics.

Spitfire downed the cup in one swig. Her wing clunked the glass back to the table unceremoniously. "Nope, not feelin' it," she stated matter-of-factly, pulling off the top hat she wore with her other wing.

"It's a sipping whiskey. I don't think you're supposed to take it like a shooter." Captain Shining Armor remarked, levitating his own glass in front of him. He squinted at it through a monocle perched on his muzzle before taking an experimental taste. He winced at the burn.

"Told you. This is stupid, I don't feel any classier." Spitfire frowned at the blue-label bottle between the two of them. It had been recommended by Captain Roll Tide, commander of the airship Summer Sun and most senior captain present at this little shindig. The old Navy pony had assured them that "fine spirits, enjoyed whilst bedecked with fine accouterments, was only proper way to celebrate." Both junior captains, bored with their usual routine, had humored him and now more closely resembled Canterlot socialites than military ponies.

Said 'shindig' was the annual Captains' Conference, where serviceponies, skippers, and squadron leaders from Equestria's various military and emergency service branches could meet and discuss the newest innovations in leadership techniques. This round-table exchange of ideas often took the form of drinking, bragging, and complaining about their subordinates' screwups. The captains had near-unanimously decided that this year's Conference host should be Shining Armor, as he was the only pony among their number that held dual titles of 'Captain' and 'Prince'. (Prince Blueblood, in his youth, was declared medically unfit for service due to a bone spur in his hoof.) Shining was initially uncomfortable about holding a conference so vital to the defense of the nation in the home he shared with his wife and child, but soon changed his mind after the other captains declared him to be a "whipped little bitch" who "hit the trust-fund-princess jackpot and forgot who his real friends were" and likely had "no balls."

"Why don't we switch to something else then? I'm sure Roll Tide will polish off this one if he doesn't talk himself to death." Shining glanced around the room. Roll Tide was sitting on a duvet couch, puffing a cigar and boisterously sharing tales of adventuring with the other Navy captains about someplace called 'deepest Zebrica.' Two Royal Guard captains, Red Shirt and Meat Shield, were locked in a no-holds-barred match of cider pong on the other side of the room. Truthfully, Shining couldn't tell the two apart and he had served with both for years. His ears twitched at a commotion behind him as Captain Blue Line of the Manehattan Police Department and Captain Five Alarm of the Fire Department of Manehattan started shouting at each other, each enraged at the other over something inconsequential. Captain Evening Mist of the Night Guard cheered them on, encouraging them to 'kick each other's bucking heads off.'

"Hang on, I've got a bottle of Willy-Peg in here somewhere..." Spitfire rooted through her saddlebag with a wing for a few seconds. "Got it!" She pulled out a bottle of Wild Pegasus whiskey, slamming it down on the table. "Now we're talking, 100% guaranteed to take the edge off! It can also take the varnish off the countertop if you're not careful." She gazed lovingly at the bottle. "Oh, Willy-Peg, where would I be without you?"

"Probably not needing a new liver in a few years." Shining levitated over three glasses. He poured two, then filled a third with ice. Spitfire cocked an eyebrow over her sunglasses as she accepted her drink from his telekinesis.

"Shut up. I was going to say 'jail', because there's no way I wouldn't have murdered one of my idiot fliers if I had to deal with them sober." She drained the glass in one smooth motion before resting her head on the table. "Every fuckin' week, I swear. 'Spitfire, we're over budget!' 'Spitfire, we wrecked the training course!' 'Spitfire, Fleetfoot is sexually harassing the cadets again!' It just doesn't." She slammed her head against the table. "Fuckin." Another slam. "End!" A third slam, to emphasize her point.

"Ugh, I understand completely," Shining reassured her, gulping back his own ~~industrial solvent~~ beverage that was completely fit for equine consumption. "The Crystal Guard has been a complete headache since I assumed command."

"I'd imagine," Spitfire replied, weakly raising her head off the table. "A military force that's been frozen in time for a thousand years? Must be a nightmare getting them up to modern standards."

"No, they actually sorted that out themselves in the first week or so," Shining waved a hoof. Spitfire stared at him. "They're just so eager, like creepily so. They don't have any off switch, they're always running around, asking me what I want done, what they could be doing better, proposing all these improvements for the Empire's defense. You've heard the phrase 'crack under pressure?' Well, these troopers will work themselves to the point where they actually do crack. It's a serious medical concern for crystal ponies. I hate to whine about excessive motivation, but I worry about them, and honestly? It's skeeving me out."

Spitfire's jaw worked soundlessly. Shining finished the rest of his whiskey. "Hmm, this isn't bad," he remarked, levitating the bottle. "Another round?"

"...please."

They dank in silence for a moment, listening to the soothing sounds of hooves smacking against flesh as the two Manehattan captains progressed from trading insults to trading blows. A shrill screech suddenly interrupted their silent contemplation of their lives. All ponies present at the party looked up as a small peregrine falcon swooped through one of the high windows. The raptor circled the room once before alighting on the table in front of Spitfire, dropping a scroll in front of her and giving her a friendly chirp.

"Radar! You came to visit mommy!" Spitfire's previously dreary mood upended itself completely at the sight of her pet. She nuzzled the bird affectionately. The little raptor puffed out his grey-and-cream plumage with pride as he returned the gesture, rubbing his beak along her coat. Radar hopped onto her head with a few flaps and perched in her mane, where he took a loving nibble from her ear. "Dawwwww! Who's my little predator!? You are! Yes you are! You even brought mommy a gift, and it's not a dead sparrow this time!"

"What's the letter say?" Shining asked, casually sipping his whiskey. The glass of ice still sat in front of him, untouched.

"Something terrible, I'm sure." Spitfire deadpanned, picking up the scroll with a hoof and turning it so Shining could see the Wonderbolts seal. She broke it and unrolled it, preferring to learn the bad news right away rather than let the anticipation build. It was a form letter, neatly printed with several blank spaces had been filled in with what appeared to be a foal's scribbles.

From the Desk of: 1LT Soarin
Wonderbolts 1st Demonstration Squadron
EUP Wonderbolts HQ, Prism Plateau

Address:
ROYAL CRYSTAL PALACE
1 CRYSTAL LANE
CRYSTAL EMPIRE

Attn: CAP Spitfire, Wonderbolts 1st Demonstration Squadron

Ma'am,

I regret to inform you that an urgent matter (check one: __is developing at Xhas developed at __has destroyed) Prism Plateau, due to unforeseen circumstances involving (__property damage [accidental] __property damage [arson] __a diplomatic incident __Fleetfoot Xother: A RIP IN THE FABRIC OF TIME AND SPACE.) I assure you that this matter is being handled with the professionalism and integrity exemplified by all Wonderbolts, however due to the (__serious __fatal Xapocalyptic) nature of the threat, I humbly request your assistance in preventing (__further embarrassment __further bloodshed Xother: TIME CLONES OH CELESTIA THERE'S SO MANY CLONES.) As your Executive Officer and ranking flier in your absence, I have ordered all on-duty Wonderbolts to (corrective action:COWER IN FEAR, WE ARE TO THE CLONES AS ANTS ARE TO PONIES AND PONIES ARE TO DRAGONS. THERE IS NOTHING WE CAN DO), which I am confident will mitigate the crisis until such a time as proper chain-of-command may be restored.

I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you as ranking officer, and humbly submit myself for any resulting (Xdisciplinary charges __gelding.) As squadron commander in absentia, this failure is mine and mine alone.

(__Hooah, __Aim High, __Sincerely, __Regretfully, XTearfully,)

SOARIN

1LT Soarin, XO, Wonderbolts 1st Demonstration Squadron

"Hmm," Spitfire thought aloud. "That's a new one. Sorry, Shining, duty calls."

Shining Armor looked up from his whiskey in interest. "What happened?"

"It appears somepony broke the laws of physics." Spitfire remarked without a note of interest in her voice as she rose from her seat, stretching her wings. Radar adjusted his grip on her mane, kneading his talons soothingly into the tangled windswept mess. (All Wonderbolts wore their manes in what was pretty much the same style. Not a uniform requirement, they just thought it looked cool.)

"Oh," Shining replied, disappointed. "That's it?"

"Looks like. If I'm reading this correctly, my deputy is saying somepony on base repeatedly traveled backwards through time and now there are multiple copies of them doing Celestia-knows-what." Spitfire let out a disappointed sigh, resigned to her lot in life. "Trashing the plateau, most likely."

"Really?" Shining raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I may know a pony that can help you out." He lit his horn, summoning a scroll and quill. He hastily scribbled out a note, signed and rolled it, and levitated it to Spitfire. "Swing by Ponyville on your way back and give this to my sister. She'll be able to make some arrangements for you."

Spitfire smiled at the unexpected ray of sunlight in what could only be described as the category-five shitstorm waiting for her back home. "Thanks, Shining. That really means a lot to me." She paused, looking around the party. Meat Shield and Red Shirt had managed to spill more cider than could physically fit into the red solo cups that now littered the table and floor. Blue Line had Five Alarm pinned to the floor, both of them still punching and kicking each other. Evening Mist was politely asking Roll Tide's group if they had any baby oil she could pour over the two Manehattan captains. "You want to come with? We can borrow a chariot from your guards, it'll be a nice excuse to see your sister. This party looks dead anyway."

"I'd love to, but I can't leave Cadance right now."

"Oh, is everything alright with her?" Spitfire asked. "It's not... postpartum, is it?"

"No, no she and the baby are both perfectly fine," Shining reassured her. "It's... its the sex. She's insatiable, won't let me out of the castle for more than a few hours." He levitated a cup of mostly-melted ice cubes up from under the table.

"...what..." Spitfire managed to blurt out.

"I thought it was just pregnancy hormones, but Flurry Heart was born months ago and her, er, appetite's only gone up. What did you think this ice was for?" Shining wrapped the new glass of ice in his magic, holding it up before lowering it below the table. He shuddered for a second, then relaxed, looking relieved. "Ahh, that's the stuff. It's getting ridiculous, she burned off the baby weight in like a day from all the, uh, physical activity. Except for a little bit around the flanks, but honestly, that really works for her and--"

"I get it." Spitfire hissed. "You know Shining, you're a great stallion and one hell of a soldier. But sometimes, I can't help but want to hoofpunch you in the face."

"You'd be surprised how often I hear that," Shining stated flatly. He stood, wincing as he pushed back his chair. Once on his hooves, he gave Spitfire a smart salute. "Good luck, Captain."

"And you, Captain." Spitfire returned the salute as she trotted over to the window, opening it and spreading her wings. She looked up at Radar, the little falcon still perched in between her ears. The little bird attempted to pull his talons free of her mane. When they would not come loose, he looked down at his owner and gave her an apologetic chirp.

"Daw, are you stuck?" Radar whistled an affirmative. "Do you want to ride home in mommy's mane, then?" He nuzzled her with his beak, then spread his own wings while still rooted to Spitfire's head. "Okay then, kiddo. Hang on!" She leaped out the window with her beloved pet, desperately hoping her whiskey buzz would last until she reached the loony bin she called home.

Author's Note

Spitfire to the rescue! Time will tell if she is indeed getting "too old for this shit."

Shining tries to be a supportive friend, but inadvertently ends up reminding everypony how awesome his life is compared to theirs. He married the freaking Princess of Love and now has an entire kingdom at his beck and call, fathered an alicorn, and has a caring family and a sister who solves apocalyptic problems on a weekly basis. Meanwhile, Spitfire has... Soarin and Fleetfoot.

Also, good to see Evening Mist is doing well for herself since I made her up to help fill in the background of this other time-waster.

I Just Wanted to Say Good Luck, We're All Counting on You

"We're almost there!" Spitfire shouted to the pony flying next to her, struggling to be heard over the rushing wind and a crescendo of sharp cracks and rumbling booms below them. The thick gray clouds below them occasionally lit up with a flash and accompanying thunderclap. "It's just past this next cloud layer!"

"Good!" Her wingmate huffed. "I don't- *whew* -don't think I can keep this up for much longer! You said we'd be there three cloud layers ago!"

"Trust me, I know these clouds like the back of my--" *CRACK* *FwwweeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEE* "GET DOWN!"

Spitfire lunged at her compatriot, tackling her into a nearby cumulus. Radar squawked, startled by his owner's sudden leap into action. As the three tumbled into the cloud, a streak of fire shot through the space they had occupied not a second ago. The shell flew on past, bursting into a cheery cloud of shrapnel and confetti a quarter-mile behind them. Spitfire poked her head out of their fluffy hiding spot, screaming at the unseen ponies below.

"SAME TEAM, ASSHOLES! I swear to friggin' Faust, I'm going to make somepony pay for this..." Spitfire put a hoof to the radio transceiver in her ear. "Mayday mayday mayday, this is Axe Mare One-Six, flight of three on GUARD. Plateau Tower, you have us buddy spiked. Disengage contacts one zero miles south-southeast eight thousand." She heard nothing but screechy warbles in reply.

"W-what was THAT!?" Her associate cried out as she freed her head from the cloud.

"Party cannon. Military-grade. Stay put while I sort this out. Radar?" Spitfire's falcon cheeped indignantly as he poked his head through the cloud, the tackle having finally dislodged him from Spitfire's mane. He did not look pleased with his mistress. "Can you stay here and watch mommy's new friend?" Radar didn't look pleased with his new assignment, but chirped in agreement and fluttered out of the cloud atop the new pony's back. The new pony yelped in surprise. "Both of you stay here, don't fly any closer until they stop firing," Spitfire instructed the two of them.

"Wait, you're leaving me!? With your pet bird!?!?" The new pony cried after Spitfire.

Spitfire had already leapt back into the air, swooping down towards the chaos below. "Just stick with Radar and you'll be fine!!"

*FweeeeeeEEEEEEEEE* *BOOM*

"...You'll probably be fine!"

* * * * *

Prism Plateau and the sky around it lay in complete pandemonium. Flyers in blue jumpsuits looped and twisted, trying to gain an advantage on each other. Ponies tackled others in midair, while more fought hoof-to-hoof on clouds and rooftops. Artillery crews raked the airspace above them with cannon fire and surface-to-air firework launchers. Several structures burned brightly, victims of wayward shells or, in one unfortunate ammo depot's case, a wayward Rainbow Dash. Dozens of Dashes wove between the candy explosions and shredded clouds, while more still struggled with the base guards. A gaggle of Soarins, identical down to the midnight-blue swept-back mane, (seriously, what is it with that manestyle? Would some originality kill you ponies?) slowly backed up against a hangar wall as the ring of determined spear-toting pegasi advanced on them. They stammered over each other, each trying to explain that while it may appear that a hive of changelings disguised as Soarin and Rainbow Dash had launched a surprise assault on Equestria's most valuable military base, this was actually just part of an embarrassing time travel mishap, and oh man are they all gonna laugh about it later...

The soldiers surrounding them, for their part, ignored the multiple Soarins' blabbering. One, they were all trying to talk over each other and nopony could understand what they were saying. Two, when alien insectoid shapeshifters fall from the skies and attack your home, do you talk to them? Debate them like a gentlecolt? Hell no. You grab your lance and your aviator sunglasses and you tear those bugs a new plothole. Because that's how we do it in Equestria!

It's just as well. Anypony willing to listen to the various Soarin clones' stories would find that none of them made a lick of sense anyhow.

Above the chaos, Commander Spit Take tried in vain to restore order to the base. His radio calls went unanswered, lost amid the indecipherable squeal of several dozen Soarins all transmitting over each other. He sent out runners to relay messages to the various squadrons, but any airpony that left the control tower became swept up in the furious basewide dogfight and never came back. Spit Take's options were dwindling rapidly.

"Sir! New contact, bearing one-three-zero angels two. Speed four hundred knots and heading straight for us!"

Spit Take rushed over to his subordinate's station. A miasma of oscillating green dots buzzed angrily near the center of the sensor screen, a mess of pings from the furball over the base. Near the edge of the scope, a single bright contact jumped steadily towards the center with each sweep. Spit Take looked up out the tower cab's wraparound windows in a panic, adrenaline burning his nerves.

It didn't take him long to spot the unidentified intruder. A column of gray smoke tipped by an angry orange blur rocketed straight for the tower, corkscrewing around flak blasts and the odd rocket. Take's pupils shrank to pinpricks as it careened towards him.

"INCOMING!"

Spit Take dove for the floor as an orange ball of anger smashed through the window, careening into an unlucky airpony and flattening him into a radar set. Two others leapt up, advancing on the intruder with shock spears at the ready. No sooner had they taken their first menacing steps toward her when she pounced on them like an angry tornado in a Wonderbolts dress uniform. The first fell in a split second, cold-cocked by the newcomer. The second narrowly missed her with a lightning blast from his spear before she grappled him and unceremoniously tossed him through the window. He plummeted from the tower cab with an increasingly distant scream, followed by a faint "Oh, right!" and the fwomp of a pegasus unfurling his wings to stop a fall.

Nopony else made a move towards her, having realized who she was during the scuffle. Even with the flightsuit and goggles hiding her features, Commander Spit Take could recognize that mane anywhere.

"...Miss Spitfire," he looked her up and down. While he technically outranked her, he'd often found it most advisable for his career and personal health not to cross the Wonderbolts' CO. At the end of the day, Commander Spit Take was an air traffic controller, and he knew the flyers, arrogant they may be, were still probably the best ponies to unbuck this particular cluster.

They had started it, after all.

"Sir," Spitfire spat. "I'd appreciate it if you ordered your ponies to stand down from trying to blow me out of the sky."

"Lower your weapons," Spit Take commanded. The tower controllers and guards surrounding Spitfire breathed a collective sigh of relief. None of them had signed up for this. "None of your squadrons are responding. Radios are jammed all to hell, and everypony thinks everypony else is a changeling infiltrator. If you have any ideas, I'm all ears."

Spitfire glared at him for a tense moment, by all appearances attempting to strangle him through sheer willpower. She finally relented after a few deep breaths, speaking in a more even tone. "Sir, could I use the basewide PA speakers for a moment?"

"Go ahead," Spit Take gestured towards a hoofheld microphone. "We already tried it, nopony's listen--" He stumbled as Spitfire jostled him out of the way to pick up the mic.

"NOW HEAR THIS!!" Her voice thundered across the plateau, bringing the chaotic frenzy to a screeching halt. "THIS IS CAPTAIN SPITFIRE! ALL PONIES ARE TO LAY DOWN ARMS AND STAND TO IMMEDIATELY! WONDERBOLT SQUARDONS REPORT TO THE PARADE GROUNDS IN FIVE MINUTES AND ASSEMBLE UNDER DIRECTION OF MASTER SGT. MISTY FLY! I WILL HOLD ANYPONY NOT IN ATTENDANCE PERSONALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS INCIDENT!"

Absolute, complete silence.

"...or you could do that. Yeah, that works."

* * * * *

"...I still can't believe you left me like that. You're a Wonderbolt, you're supposed to help ponies."

"Everything worked out, didn't it? Radar wouldn't have let anything happen to you." Spitfire reassured her associate as she slowly descended towards the parade grounds. She touched down next to the Wonderbolts' leader, her horn fizzling out and the teal aura of her self-levitation spell fading away. The plateau's various squadrons hastily assembled in formation, complete with a unit made entirely of Rainbow Dashes and another of Soarins.

"Thanks. That's exactly who I need by my side when I wander into a war zone." Starlight Glimmer griped. "A bird."

"Trust me, you're better off with him than half these ponies," Spitfire deadpanned, waving a wing at the formation of blue-suited flyers. She smiled at Radar, who was busy exploring the wondrous interior of Starlight's mane. "Hey there, little guy! Come to mommy!" Radar screeched happily, but stayed with Starlight. "...Aww. Fine then, stay with Miss Glimmer, see what I care!" She let out an exaggerated huff before addressing Starlight. "I am sorry about all the trouble, though. Things sometimes get a little... intense around here."

"I was thinking more along the lines of 'insane'."

"Also that. Thanks again for helping on such short notice, I'm sure Princess Twilight keeps you busy."

"It's nothing, really," Starlight reassured her. "Twilight won't mind, and I'm pretty sure I can work this into a lesson about friendship. Shall we?"

Spitfire nodded, then signaled Misty Fly with a wing. The drill sergeant snapped a quick salute, which Spitfire returned. She then about-faced to address the gathered flyers.

"Wonderbolts, atten-shun!"

The formation of pegasi snapped to attention. Spitfire cleared her throat and spoke to the assembled unit. "Listen up, hoofstains. To say I am disappointed in you is a drastic fucking understatement! Make no mistake, I will be thoroughly investigating what happened here. For now however, our mission now is to repair the base and assist Miss Starlight Glimmer in correcting the damage done to the fabric of space-time. Soarin Squadron and Rainbow Regiments, you're with Starlight and myself while we sort you out. Everypony else, Misty Fly has your assignments. They're all yours, Sergeant."

Misty Fly consulted a clipboard for the wing's various cleanup assignments. "Second and Fifth Fighter Squadrons, report to Wrench Turner on the flightline. Eighth Training Squadron, you're with Spit Take at the control tower." She smiled as she turned to her squadmates, her muzzle twisting into an insidious leer not unlike a shark bearing down on its prey. "First Demonstration Squadron, my friends, my family... I have something special for you..." A collective sense of dread fell over the team. Lightning Streak audibly gulped, he did not like where his sister was going with this. "Front-leaning rest position, MOVE!"

Acting on years of honed instinct, the assembled stunt flyers dropped to the grass and assumed the wing-up position. "We are going to do PT until your fucking wings fall off!" Misty Fly cried happily before joining them. "One-two-three-one! One-two-three-two! One-two-three-three! One-two-three-four!"

As Misty Fly led her squadron in the first of what would be several thousand wing-ups, Spitfire and Starlight Glimmer interviewed the various copies of Rainbow Dash and Soarin. Starlight consulted her notes as she talked with a Rainbow at the front of the formation. "You traveled back in time seven times, is that right?"

"Eight," Rainbow shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, ma'am," she added to Spitfire. "I was trying to work out a new stunt for the airshow routine, I didn't mean for any of this--" She stopped her apology as Spitfire held up a hoof to cut her off.

"I understand, Dash. It was an accident. These things happen, nopony can push the limits like we do here without some consequences. This is why we have safety procedures for test flights, though. I can't stress enough how you need to follow them to the letter next time, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Honestly, I'm less concerned with the first one than I am the other seven."

"...They seemed like good ideas at the time?"

Spitfire raised an eyebrow. "When you were a filly, exactly how many times did you touch a hot stove before you learned it was a bad idea?"

"...Too many, ma'am." Rainbow grinned weakly.

Spitfire's next thought was interrupted by Starlight. "Okay, I've got it! You and you," she pointed to Past-Rainbow and Clean-Soarin, "are staying here! The other five hundred and ten are going home to your own time!" She squeezed her eyes shut and lit her horn. The wind picked up, blowing across the parade grounds as Starlight summoned a spherical time portal above their heads. "Everypony into the portal!"

"I thought Twilight said you two lost that spell," Past-Rainbow hissed to Starlight under her breath.

"I memorized it. Just in case," Starlight whispered back.

Rainbows and Soarins lined up below the portal, taking wing two by two and flying into the aperture. As Past-Rainbow, Clean-Soarin, and Spitfire watched them go, something occurred to Spitfire. "How do you know exactly which time to send them to?"

"Oh, I don't," Starlight shrugged. "It'll sort them all out on its own. Time is like a river. Doesn't matter where you jump in, everypony always ends up downstream."

"...Whatever works." Spitfire replied. At this point, she honestly didn't care. "Rainbow, Soarin, glad to see you made it though in one piece. Once we get everything sorted out on base, I'd like to take a look at that routine you two were designing."

"Yes, ma'am!" The two cried out, pleasantly surprised at their luck. They both expected much worse from Spitfire.

"In the meantime, get over there with Misty Fly and the rest. You're missing out on your wing-ups!"

Maybe they weren't so lucky after all. "Ma'am?"

A satisfied smirk creeped across Spitfire's muzzle. "What, you didn't think you were getting out of this scot-free, did you?"

* * * * *

"One-two-three-eight-hundred-thirty-six! One-two-three-eight-hundred-thirty-seven!"

"So," Fleetfoot huffed as she lowered her body to the dirt with her wings yet again, "what'd Cap say?"

"Not much," Soarin replied in between gasps for air. "Safety, proper leadership, not destroying any buildings next time, the usual."

"In all fairness, I think that was the cannon crews, not us. Think we'll get a punishment detail?"

"Probably. You did lead a mutiny, I'd expect armory duty at the least. By the way, not cool, lady-dude. Not. Cool."

"Uugh, for Faustsakes Clip, it was one little coup de'tat. Do you know how annoying it is to trick Lightning Streak into doing armory duty for me?"

"Hey!" Lightning Streak called angrily from the back of the formation. Soarin nodded thoughtfully. He hadn't personally conned Lightning Streak into doing his work for him, but it sounded aggravating.

Fleetfoot frowned as a memory from the chaotic dogfight surfaced at the front of her mind. "Wait, I think the armory blew up."

"Hm, so probably not armory duty then?"

"I'd doubt it." The two fell silent as they worked out to Misty Fly's metronomic chanting.

Fleetfoot was never a fan of silence. "Soo, what was it like making out with yourself?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"But--"

"I. Don't. Want. To. Talk. About. It."

"Yeesh, fine. Way to smash a girl's dreams to pieces right in front of her. You're the worst, Clip."

Soarin merely grunted in reply as he pushed out more wing-ups. "One-two-three-nine-hundred-seventy-two! One-two-three-nine-hundred-seventy-three!"

"Soo... what's the story with future-you? How'd he manage to get covered in manure?" Fleetfoot inquired. She really hated awkward silences.

"Not much of a story behind it," Soarin replied. "From what he said, he spun out after the Timeboom, then crash-landed in a wagon of the stuff out at Sweet Apple Acres."

"Isn't that where your waifu lives? That orange apple salesmare Crash hangs out with?"

Soarin rolled his eyes. "She's not my 'waifu', whatever that is. I'm just really into her pie." Wait. "That sounded different in my head. Dirty-Soarin said he ran into her brother."

"Her brother?" Fleetfoot scrunched her brow in confusion. And exhaustion. Misty Fly had them doing a lot of wing-ups.

"Yeah, big red guy. I've seen him around a few times when we do events in Ponyville... Fleet? Fleet, you okay?" Soarin looked over at his friend. Fleet was no longer listening to him, she had adopted what Soarin recognized as the 'thousand-yard-stare'. Her eyes stared off into the distance, unfocused, as she robotically performed her wing-ups. Her cheeks colored with a rose blush. A dribble of drool hung from the corner of her mouth.

Inside Fleetfoot's mind, her usual thoughts of fame, glory, and world domination were pushed away by a pink haze flooding her senses. Memories of the Summer Wrap-Up festival in Ponyville, an errant firework shoot-down, and a nasty concussion on landing. Images of a handsome hunk of a stallion, dressed in a tuxedo and a martini in hoof, pushed away any rational thought. She saw herself, wrapped in an evening cocktail dress, as they sailed away to a private island where the evil forces of darkness would never find them. A villian's yacht exploded behind them, lighting up the sky with fireworks as her hero took her in his muscular forehooves.

"Oh, Mac-san..."

"Oh, Fleetfoot..."

"I love you!"

"Eeyup!"

They kissed passionately, falling to the deck of the boat. Fleetfoot gripped her love tighter, wrapping her wings around him. She felt a hoof trace down her back, sending lightning bolts up her spine and along her wings. She reached lower, groping for his--

*WHAM!*

Fleetfoot spat out dirt as she fell to the ground. What the hay!? Wasn't she just doing...

She heard a laugh from the pony in formation next to her. "Kinda hard to do wing-ups when you're full sail, Flatfoot," Soarin chuckled, pointing behind her with a hoof as he exercised. Fleetfoot glanced behind her, her face going even redder. Her wings were splayed out, completely rigid.

Soarin yelped as Fleetfoot leapt at him. "WHERE IS HE!?" she roared as she pinned him to the ground. "WHERE IS MY MAC-SAN?"

"Aah! I don't know, that was the other Soarin, not me!" Soarin panicked. "Your wingboner is making this, like, super-awkward!"

"HEY! I DON'T CARE IF YOU TWO ARE OFFICERS, IF I DON'T SEE MORE WING-UPS I WILL SKULL-BUCK THE BOTH OF YOU INTO NEXT WEEK! THEN WE'LL SEE HOW MUCH YOU LIKE TIME TRAVEL!" Misty Fly yelled from her position at the head of the formation.

Her yell snapped Fleetfoot out of her lust-rage. "Clip, please..." she pleaded, hopping off him.

"I'm sorry, I don't really know him," Soarin hated to let down a friend like that. As he dusted himself off and resumed his wing-ups, an idea popped into his brain. (Yes, even Soarin gets them sometimes...) "I don't know how to find him, but I'll bet Rainbow does."

He yelped as he was tackled by Fleetfoot again, this time in a grateful hug, eliciting another scream from Misty Fly. "I take it back, Clip. You're the best!"

"That's what squadmates are for, Flatfoot." Soarin said warmly. "We look out for each other. But seriously, about the wingboner... super weird right now."

Author's Note

The Wonderbolts adhere to military discipline and command structure the way Michael Bay adheres to historical accuracy and logic. They're celebrities, after all. The regular troopers around the base (Royal Guards? Air Force ponies? I'm kinda waffling on this. I've been calling all the flyers 'Wonderbolts' while staying vague about anypony else. Can't decide whether the whole branch should be called the Wonderbolts, Air Force, make them part of the Royal Guard or what.) aren't too fond of this, so there's a bit of tension between Spitfire and Spit Take.

Starlight was the pony Shining Armor referred to in the last chapter, if anyone missed it. She'd probably be the pony you'd want to go to if you had a time-travel-related friendship problem on your hands.

Next time, the Bolts explore the wonderful world of weapons expos and government procurement contracts! All the red tape they could ever dream of!

Friendship and Loathing in Las Pegasus

"And then I got to learn about rocks and rock farming and mining and why I shouldn't touch anything on a rock farm! Especially not a big boulder that sits right next to a cliff!" Surprise was always in motion. She'd been a Wonderbolt for years and most ponies would be hard pressed to name a single time she wasn't either talking or doing something physical. New recruits wished she'd talk less right up until the moment they figured out her favorite physical activities were various forms of martial arts. Her squadmates simply opted to let her talk; they only needed to make that mistake once. "It was soo nice to finally meet them! Kinda sad though, cause it made me think what if that eagle never snatched my foal basket away in the first place? I was an only foal, it would've been so fun to have sisters! Thooough they were kinda glum, and it's really hard for earth ponies to raise a pegasus! Maybe I would've grown up completely different! Ohmygosh, what if I never became a Wonderbolt? Or what if I never discovered my special talent? I mean, how could I have possibly found these babies on a rock farm!?" She shoved her flank in Misty Fly's face, pointing a hoof at the three pink-and-purple balloons that decorated it.

Misty Fly recoiled in disgust. "If I told you that I don't care, would you stop talking?"

"So how many sisters do you have?" Lightning Streak asked. Surprise's story was more interesting than her usual rambling, and Lightning wholeheartedly approved of anything that annoyed his sister.

"Four! I didn't get to meet my twin though, they said she moved away years ago! Too bad, I wonder what she'd be like! Maybe she'd be like me and we could finish each others sentences and hang around abandoned hotels and whisper 'come play with us foreeever!' Ooh! Or what if we're like the kind of twins that are complete opposite! Like I could be all 'yaaay!' and she's more of a 'grrr!' Or--"

"Please tell me this story ends soon," Misty Fly groaned.

"Silly Misty, we still have thirty minutes to go if you count commercial breaks!"

"...What?"

As Surprise started to explain, Spitfire poked her head into the airship's flyer ready room. "We're approaching the drop zone, I want everypony suited up in the hangar bay in fifteen! Time to move, party ponies!"

"Awww..."

"Thank you, Fausticorn," Misty sighed. "I will never doubt your existence again as long as I live."

Lightning Streak stood up from his chair and stretched his wings. "Don't worry Surprise, I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to tell Misty and me the whole story on the trip home."

"Yaaaaaay!" Surprise cheered as she skipped over to her locker.

Misty Fly glared at her brother. "I hate you so much."

"Suure you do."

"You were a mistake, you know. Mom and Dad should've left you for the timberwolves."

"Then I guess Surprise and I will have that much more to talk about, won't we?"

* * * * *

Spotlights swept the darkened sky as the RES Longest Night emerged from the clouds, the steady thrum of its propellers nearly drowned out against the howling wind. Clamshell doors creaked open along its underbelly, exposing the dim red lights of the hangar bay.

Inside, seven ponies stood against the elements. Spitfire peered over the edge of the bay, peering into the mesmerizing swirl of lights below her. The marshalling pony opposite the Wonderbolts raised two glowing sticks with his wings, signalling the squadron to take their ready stances. Spitfire caught her squadmates crouched for launch out of the corners of her eyes as she switched on her suit's running lights. Soarin and Fleetfoot each gave her a subtle nod, and she snapped a quick salute to the marshaller.

The marshal lowered his wings, and seven ponies leapt into the abyss.

Seven lights plummeted from the airship's gaping maw. Colorful blasts flared alongside the Bolts as spotlights tracked their drop. Spitfire effortlessly focused through the assault on her senses, blotting out the eye-searing chromatic bursts and the chilling buffets of the wind as she spiraled in between stray clouds. She focused on the lights of the city as she plummeted toward the ever-closer highrises.

At the last second, she cranked her wings and pulled up. Her teammates followed, the seven-pony formation rocketing across the tower rooftops, fireworks detonating around them. They split, two groups of three weaving across each others' paths as a single light dropped to the plaza square below them. It flared as it approached, shedding speed for a safe landing. The pony touched down atop a stage at a fast trot, waving his wing at the assembled crowd outside the Golden Apple Hotel and Resort.

"Good eeee-vening, Las Pegasus!" Lightning Streak's voice boomed across the crowd. "And welcome to the One Thousand and Second Annual Fleet Week! Put your hooves together for the hardworking Royal Equestrian Navy sailors aboard the carrier Longest Night and of course, your very own E! U! P! Wonderbolts!"

Lightning reared up and waved a hoof to the sky as his six teammates thundered overhead, the colorful lights on their suits creating a dazzling show against the cloudy night sky. They had switched up their formation again, four ponies tucked into a tight diamond thundered by on a high-speed pass.

"Here comes Captain Spitfire, leading Misty Fly, Surprise, and Rainbow Dash in a four-ship flyover! Now, if you'll look to your left and right, you'll see Soarin and Fleetfoot setting up their infamous head-to-head pass!"

The two flyers streaked down opposite ends of the Las Pegasus Strip, aiming directly for each other. At the last possible second, they banked opposite directions and pulled into tight turns, missing each other by inches.

"Whoa, close one there! Careful guys, don't hurt yourselves! I'd hate to have to cover for you instead of spending time with this lovely crowd!" Lightning Streak winked at a group of pretty mares in the front row as the crowd erupted into more cheers. "Thank you so much for the wonderful welcome, we'll be performing all week!"

The routine continued on for some time, Spitfire and her team dazzled the crowd with their stunts while Lightning Streak emceed. As the sun got lower in the sky, the squadron formed up for a final pass before joining Lightning to greet the enthralled citizens of Las Pegasus. Lightning relinquished center stage to Spitfire, passing the mic to her before taking his spot next to Misty. Spitfire launched into a heartfelt speech to the crowd about just how honored the team felt to receive such a warm welcome, that while they've been to cities all across Equestria and beyond, Las Pegasus truly felt like home. She brushed a few tears from her eyes and reminded herself to update her 'Best City We've Ever Been To' form speech before launching into a brief description of the race schedules and events of the next few days.

The Bolts spent the rest of the press conference with their throngs of well-wishers, signing autographs and posing for pictures. Soarin and Fleetfoot each accumulated a pile of love letters, each enthusiastically one-upping the other every time a mare (or occasionally a stallion,) asked to bear their foals. Rainbow found herself mobbed by a horde of reporters and fans alike all wanting face-time with the Wonderbolts' newest sensation. As the evening wore on, Spitfire put a halt to the meet-and-greet, claiming the team needed to prepare for the events of the next day. They departed the adoring crowd, trotting inside the Golden Apple's newly-renovated main entrance.

The Golden Apple itself was a sight to behold, a towering artifice of bright lights, dazzling colors, and crowds of ponies. The gaming floor was packed full of entertainment as far as the eye could see. Amusement park rides, gambling, arcade games, skee-ball, attractions of every shape and possible size. Rainbow Dash, never one to walk when she could fly, had to duck down to the floor as she was nearly plastered by a roller coaster zooming over ponies heads. At the center of the brightly-lit hub lay a two-tier fountain where workers busied themselves installing a golden statue of two slick unicorns in straw hats. Another statue lay on its side next to the fountain, covered with a tarp. The Bolts grinned at each other in and anticipation. An entire week in Equestria's biggest playground? First Demonstration Squadron had hit the jackpot!

"Listen up!" Spitfire turned to address her subordinates before the casino's glamour stole their attention completely. "I know you're all excited to be here, but we still have a job to do! Derby races are tomorrow and Tuesday, followed by two days of air-combat maneuver demonstrations out at the salt flats with the new toys from the Defense Expo. Friday's the big show, so try not to get yourselves hurt between now and then. Soarin, Crash, I'm looking at you."

"Hey!" Soarin objected! "I--wait, no, you're right."

Rainbow merely grinned sheepishly, remembering the hole in the 'Welcome to Prism Plateau' sign shaped like her silhouette.

"Glad we're all in agreement. Personally, I don't care if you snap both wings like twigs and I'm sure Rapidfire's standby ponies would love to take your place, but I'm sure your little fan clubs would be just heartbroken," Spitfire raised an eyebrow at the mail sacks Soarin and Fleetfloot slung across their withers. "I'm meeting with Princess Luna and the reps from Lockhoof-Flimflam tonight to go over some issues with their Ministry of Defense contract--" Spitfire found herself cut off by a chorus of moans.

"Ugh, does that mean we're still getting the Mark 35? That thing sucks!"

"It's too heavy, it can barely maneuver!"

"I heard half the new stealth features don't even work!"

"The Mark 22 is way better!"

Spitfire grunted and rubbed her forehead with a hoof. "Flatfoot, you know the Mark 22 pegasuit is too expensive per unit to equip the entire military. We're not the only ponies who need new combat gear, and the Thirty-Five is the only one on the market with enough multi-mission capability for the Bolts, the Guard, and the--"

"Too expensive? The 35's cost the treasury a trillion bits!"

"Which I'm sure will come up in a meeting about development and cost overruns," Spitfire hissed. "A meeting that will likely take all night and leave me deaf from the Princess's shouting. A meeting that, I should remind you, you don't have to attend. So Fleet, would you like to enjoy your free night in Las Pegasus or would you like to switch places with me and air your grievances to somepony who gives a giant rat's ass?"

Fleetfoot considered Spitfire's ultimatum for a moment. "On second thought Cap, I'm all good. Have fun with that!"

"That's what I thought. Now: ground rules. Everypony stay in buddy teams, I don't want you morons wandering around this city on your own. Dash, no accepting any form of challenge from strange ponies. The hustlers here will eat you alive."

"But how will everypony here know how awesome I am? That I'm not just some pampered celebrity?" Rainbow protested.

"Don't care. Save it for the derby." Spitfire cut her off. "Lightning, no gambling with squadron funds. Surprise, Misty, no fighting anypony. Soarin, Surprise again, lay off the sweets. Fleetfoot, make sure Soarin doesn't stuff himself before the race tomorrow. Also, and I can't believe I have to say this in the first place, but under no circumstances are you to sell him to Neighponese organ harvesters, I don't care what kind of offer they make. Understood?"

Her reply came in the form of a series of groans, most of the group already rethinking their plans for the night. "Good. Have a fun night, and remember--" Wind whipped her mane around as her subordinates darted off, leaving behind nothing but six vaguely pony-shaped dust clouds. "REMBEMBER, RACE TOMORROW! LIGHTS-OUT IS MIDNIGHT!" She sighed in futility, looking around for directions to the conference center the Princess had reserved. "Why do I even bother?"

* * * * *

"Oh! Ooh! We should go see the Expo first! I wanna get a sneak peek at all the fun new explodey toys they're coming out with! I reeeeally like my Mk10 but the Mk35 turns better even if it can't carry as much ammo and it would be nice to outfly you guys sometimes and after that we can go check out the rides! I'm totally gonna need a cotton candy fix then I wanna do the roller coaster and maybe the Tilt-a-Whirl! Then let's go watch the Ultimate Pony Fighting match! I totally think I could take Ruby Roughhouse, don't you? I know she's fast and mean, but I've got reach on her, I bet I could knock her out with one hoofkick!"

"We're going Surprise, jeez! You sure more sugar is a good idea right now?" Rainbow shushed the chatterbox bouncing in place next to her as they trotted into the Fleet Week Defense Expo. "You're kinda acting a little hyper. And familiar. Am I the only pony feeling some deja vu here?"

"Of course, silly! We're supposed to have fun here, what happens in Pegasus stays in Pegasus!" She looked back and forth cautiously, then leaned over to hiss in Rainbow's ear, even though her other squadmates were trotting right next to them and could easily hear everything she said. "I know, we could pull a prank on Fleetfoot! Do you know any unicorns that know memory spells? Let's make her think we all got drunk and lost Soarin! It'll be soo funny!"

"That does sound like something I'd do," Fleetfoot remarked, examining the various booths with interest. The Fleet Week Defense Expo was the biggest weapons convention in the world, vendors hawking everything from the simplest sword and shield up to attack pedalcopters and top-of-the-line anti-dragon rocket batteries. The Bolts were all somewhat interested in seeing the latest combat flight equipment their leader would soon be negotiating for.

"Whoa, check out this one!" Surprise hopped up to a display showcasing a bulky yellow frame vaguely shaped like a pony. It was covered in hydraulic pistons and hazard markers, and had an empty space in the center with controls and seating for a pilot. "Wingland-Hooftani Power Loader! Coool..."

Rainbow rolled her eyes as she hurried after Surprise. The mech did look cool, but keeping up with her assigned wingmare for the night was proving to be taxing. "Misty, Lightning, either of you want to trade battle buddies?"

"Yeeeaah, nope," Misty replied.

"Sorry Crash, you're on your own." Lightning apologized. "I think your old drill sergeant used to drive one of these, Misty," he remarked to his sister as they examined the display further. "Sgt. Acorn, right? Always chewing on that cigar?"

Rainbow looked over to Fleetfoot and Soarin. "Don't even think about it," Fleetfoot hissed before she could say a word. Soarin was too preoccupied to notice, examining some ordinary radio equipment at a nearby booth with a sense of childlike wonder.

"Ugh, fine," Rainbow sighed. She quickened her pace to keep up with Surprise, who had bounced toward a booth showcasing the prototype flightsuit the Bolts came to see. It wasn't particularly impressive, a mottled gray full-body flightsuit like any other. Rainbow spotted a pair of casters built into the forehooves, thruster gimbals, and a few other doodads she couldn't fathom the purpose of. "I don't get it, all the commotion over this? It's just a suit, no big deal."

At this, the room's lights clicked off and two bright spotlights illuminated the dias where the Mk35 stood. Ponies around the convention murmured in interest.

"Why, do you hear that, brother of mine? 'Just a suit?'"

"Indeed I do! It looks as if we have a few neigh-sayers here tonight! Unsatisfied customers, if you will!"

"At our grand reopening? What shall we do?"

Rainbow squinted into the harsh light. "Wait, I know those voices..."

Two yellow stallions in barbershop-quartet outfits slid into the spotlight. "If it isn't Rainbow Dash! Hero of Equestria, loyal friend, and cider aficionado extraordinaire, if I'm not mistaken!"

"It certainly is! And not just her, how lucky are we to be graced with the presence of the finest flyers in all the land! Full introductions are in order, dear brother!"

Carnival music echoed throughout the darkened room. "Greetings and salutations, Wonderbolts!" The mustachioed stallion greeted. "Welcome to the Golden Apple Hotel and Resort! He's Flim--"

"--And he's Flam!" The clean shaven one echoed.

"--And we're the Flim Flam brothers, entrepreneurs nonpareil at your service!" The two stallions stepped forward, doffing their hats and bowing to the Bolts. Soarin and Surprise clapped in delight, while Fleetfoot, Misty, and Lightning all looked on with interest.

Rainbow merely glared. "Oh, it's you two. Shouldn't you be ripping off farmers or something?"

"Nonparwhat?" Surprise scrunched her muzzle in confusion.

"Okay, serious deja vu here. What are you two jerks doing, and where's your crappy cider machine?"

"Why, I'm wounded at the very thought!" Flam (Flim?) cried out. "As if we would try the same con *ahem* business venture twice. We're out of the apple game, my dear speedster. Your friend Applejack beat us fair and square, and we honored our deal."

"Too much competition in apples," his brother supplied. "No room for a pair of poor hardworking stallions like ourselves to make a bit. We've since diversified our business!"

Rainbow raised an eyebrow. "Diversified?"

"Yes, diversified!" Flim (Flam?) practically shouted. "We've invested in a wide variety of assets to reduce the risk of--"

"I know what it means!" Rainbow lied. "But what are you doing here?"

"You're looking at the new proprietors of the Golden Apple, the grandest--"

"--most sensational--"

"--most incredible casino hotel and resort in Las Pegasus! We're not quite through remodeling, but we've managed to tear down all of those tacky signs with Goldmane's name on them. Some stallions have no sense of class, wouldn't you agree brother?"

"Indeed I would! Now, what can we do for our guests of honor?" Flam hopped off the pedestal showcasing the flightsuit, taking Fleetfoot's hoof in his own. "After all, world-class ponies deserve world-class treatment!"

"Oh, go on, you!" Fleetfoot blushed and giggled at Flam's schmoozing. "No really, go on..."

"Ooh! Ooooh!" Surprise bounced up and down, raising a hoof like a schoolfilly who needed to use the restroom. "Can I have one of these?" She motioned to the powered flightsuit excitedly.

"You certainly can, my attention-deficit damsel!" Flim was next to her in a flash, leading her over to the military equipment on the dias. "We also happen to own a majority stake in Lockhoof-Flimflam Aerospace, and were just on our way to meet with your fearless leader to negotiate the sale of these fine machines! You're looking at the Lockhoof-Flimflam Mark 35 Variable Tactical Pegasuit, the latest in aerial combat! Equipped with advanced target recognition and acquisition, powered joints to enhance speed and reaction time, low-light, infrared, and aura sensors, vectored thrust for flight support in all ranges, and of course, the latest in camouflage and stealth technology!"

"Uh huh," Rainbow clearly wasn't buying it. "So you guys just happen to go completely on the level just a few months after Applejack runs you out of town for the second time in a year?" She hovered in front of them, hooves crossed in front of her chest. "I'm not buying it, in case you were wondering."

"I assure you, every word is true! We acquired this resort in a completely legitimate fashion!" Flim turned to Rainbow, who showed no signs of softening her front.

"Uh, guys?" Soarin attempted to get the attention of the group, who ignored him in favor of Rainbow's spat with the newcomers.

"Right, bet you guys swindled the old owner out of it!"

"As if! We swindled this business in the name of friendship and harmony! Ask Applejack, she helped us!"

"Guys?" Soarin tried again.

"Hah, now I really don't believe you!" Rainbow snorted. "What about the flightsuit business, did you charitably take that off some poor pony's hooves?"

"We can hardly be blamed if Mr. Marlin had a gambling addiction, and nopony wishes him a speedy recovery more than us," Flim and Flam doffed their hats, bowing their heads in sorrow at the mention of their company's previous owner.

"Yeah, you two were so brokenhearted you took him to the cleaners!"

"Now, we bought the Las Pegasus Express Drycleaners fair and square!"

"GUYS!" Soarin shouted. Everypony stopped arguing, and six sets of eyes turned towards him. "Surprise stole the suit while you were arguing."

They all turned to the pedestal, which now lay empty. A small handwritten note sat where the Mk35 once stood, illuminated by the bright spotlights. Soarin picked it up with a wing, unrolling it and reading aloud.

Hey best friends! It's me, Surprise! I'm not really here though, so somepony else is probably reading this out loud to everypony. I'm guessing Soarin! Hi Soarin!

"Hi, Surprise!" Soarin greeted the scroll. "Wait..." he thought for a moment as everypony looked at him incredulously.

Aaaaanyway, I got bored while Crashie was arguing with those nice stallions, so I figured I'd try out this thingy since Cap and Princess Luna are probably getting them for us as Hearthswarming presents anyway! It's soo cool, can't wait for all of you to try them too! I figured we could play a fun game of hide-and-go-seek to kick off our night in Las Pegasus! Outside the hotel is out of bounds, so grab whatever you can from the convention and get to it! Make sure whatever you take isn't too explodey though, we have a race tomorrow. First pony who tags me out wins! But if I get you first, then YOU'RE out! Heh, hahahahaMUAHAHAHAHA!

Sorry, just thought of something really funny from a few days ago! Okay, looks like Soarin is about to notice I borrowed this super suit so I better scram! Happy hunting, everypony!

XOXOXO
-Surprise

...

"Oh, horseapples..."

Author's Note

And then they found her hiding under a table at Pony Stark's booth five minutes later, and enjoyed their night in Las Pegasus like responsible adults. The End.

For all you non-aviation nerds out there, the Lockhoof-Marlin (now Lockhoof-Flimflam) Mk35 is an Equestrian version of the Lockheed Martin F35 Lightning, and the complaints the Bolts have about it mirror some real world complaints about the program, mostly made by Internet experts such as myself that have never even seen one in real life, much less have any real experience with it. It resembles a streamlined, next-gen version of the getups Rainbow and the other flyers wore in the Season 5 finale's Sombra timeline.

Take Off and Megaspell the Site From Orbit

"What are we gonna do, dudes!?" Soarin cried. He galloped from one end of the Flim Flam brothers' luxurious penthouse office to the other. "We are so screwed! Surprise is gonna hunt us down like dogs, man! Like buckin' dogs!!" He ran a forehoof roughly through his mane for the fourth time in a minute.

"Soarin's hyperventilating again," Lightning Streak observed to his sister. Soarin was indeed flushed, flicking spittle madly as he yelled and gasping for breath in between panicked ramblings. "Should I get the paper bag?"

"No," Misty held up a hoof. "I want to see where he's going with this."

Lightning and Rainbow pulled back at Misty Fly's direction, but Flam wasn't having it. "Get ahold of yourself, sir!" He grabbed Soarin by the shoulders and roughly shook the panicky stallion. "That mare is loose in my resort--"

"Our resort!" Flim pointed out helpfully from his hiding spot underneath the office's mahogany desk.

"--our resort with a weaponized flight suit? Do you have any idea what she could do with that device? We cannot afford to panic! We need to find her now! NOW!" He shook Soarin again as the rattled Wonderbolt showed no signs of calming down.

"Eeeh wheeeh eeeeeeh" Soarin wheezed. "We're all doomed! weeeh eeeh Game over man, game ov-oof!" His head snapped to the side as Flam smacked him across the cheek.

"Hey!" Fleetfoot grabbed Flam's hoof with a wing. "What do you think you're doing!?" She cried out, pushing Flam away from Soarin.

"Miss Fleetfoot, he is your leader! We need him to behave as such!"

"Just buckin' chill for a second," Fleetfoot spat. "Go hawk some diet pills or kitchen knives or whatever. Watch," she put a hoof on Soarin's shoulder and positioned herself to look her agitated partner in the eye. "Heyyy there, buddy," she said gently, smiling. She gave him a gentle squeeze with her fetlock. His breathing slowed, and his dilated pupils fixated on his friend. "Equestria to Soarin. You with me?"

"She mostly comes at night," Soarin whimpered faintly. "Mostly..."

"Buck it, I tried." Fleetfoot shrugged, then drew back her other hoof and let loose with a punch.

Soarin stumbled back, his eyes slowly spinning in opposite directions. "Pie..." he muttered faintly before collapsing to the office floor.

Fleetfoot nodded curtly to Flam. "See? That's how it's done. Your little love taps aren't gonna calm him down when he gets like this. He's a Wonderbolt, for Celestia's sake. Hit with the bottom of the hoof, you can more weight behind it and you don't risk a sprained fetlock." She trotted around Soarin's splayed-out form, offering him a wing. Soarin took it, and she pulled him back up on all fours. "You good, brobeans?"

"Ow. Yeah, I'm good. Thanks." Soarin frowned in contemplation as he worked his jaw, rubbing the sore spot where Fleetfoot had hoofpunched him. A moment later, he lit up with delight. "Guess which lucky pony's getting a visit from the Tooth Breezie tonight? This guy!"

"Yeah he is!" Fleetfoot chuckled. "Attaboy, Clip. Okay, so that problem's solved. Anypony up for cocktails? Lightning? Saw an Appleoosa hold-em table down there with your name on it!"

"I'd love to, Fleet." Lightning sprang up to follow her but found himself staring down the barrel of his sister's commanding gaze. "...right after we find Surprise and get back these guys' whatsit, of course." He nodded at the twin businesscolts giving him matching incredulous stares. "So, umm... Flim, Flam, can you guys comp us a credit line for later or something? Maybe a little quid pro quo, we'll give your casino the ol' Wonderbolts hooves-up?"

"How can you think of gambling at a time like this??" Flim sputtered. "Are... are you all insane?"

"Our CO likes to think so," Lightning conceded.

"Mister Streak, your squadmate is loose in the building with the most deadly war machine ever built!!"

"Not the most deadly," Lightning replied nonchalantly. "The Mk22 is way better."

"Lockhoof-Flimflam has conducted extensive research that shows the Thirty-Five is a superior machine in key performance areas!"

"Yeah, superior at wasting money."

"Guys!" Rainbow yelled. "As much as I hate to agree with the con colts--"

"Con artists, thank you very much!"

"--Con artists, but we're in big trouble here!"

"We are?" Misty asked. The rest of the Bolts gave her quizzical looks while Flim and Flam stared on incredulously.

"Well, yeah! Surprise could hurt a lot of ponies with that thing. You saw her note, she's gone all crazy and sinister and weirdly-familiar!"

"Yeah, but she won't," Misty stated matter-of-factly. "Surprise is overenthusiastic, not psychopathic. She may be hotheaded, but she wouldn't hurt civilians. Not intentionally, anyway." She frowned, scratching her chin.

"Wha... she dislocated my shoulder last week!" Rainbow cried angrily.

"Sure, but that was in training. Equestria depends on us to be the best of the best, and as the Bolts' physical fitness and hoof-to-hoof combat expert it's Surprise's job to make sure we're ready for anything."

"I had to go to the base hospital..."

"For what, an hour? Trot it off, Crash. You've fought dragons and changelings before. Don't tell me you're more scared of Surprise?"

"Yeah, I kinda am! Even if she's not trying to hurt anypony, she could trash this whole hotel with that suit!" Rainbow protested. Flim and Flam nodded in agreement.

Her squadmates stared at her for a second before they all burst out laughing. Soarin doubled over with mirth, while Fleetfoot and Lightning Streak shared a knowing glance as they giggled at the new filly's naivety. Even Misty chuckled a bit.

Neither Flim nor Flam looked amused.

"What!? What's so funny about that?" Dash cried.

"We're celebrities, new meat." Fleetfoot stated as she wiped a tear from her eye with a wing. "Trashing hotels is what we do. Trust me, the bump in business our visit brings will more than make up for any damage our sugared-up sis-bro causes." She turned to Flim and Flam. "Isn't that right, Tweedledee and Tweedledumb?"

"Why, I have never heard such an insulting proposition!" Flim snorted furiously, pacing across the polished wood floor. He pointed an accusing hoof at the Wonderbolts. "To have the nerve to even suggest something at a time like this! There is no possible way we could even begin to recoup from this catastrophe simply from your endorsement!"

"Ahem, brother?" Flam held up a calculator in his emerald magical aura. "That's not entirely accurate..."

* * * * *

The group piled out of the Golden Apple's elevator as the doors slid open and trotted towards the Defense Expo. The plan had been formulated and set into motion the last few minutes. The Flim Flam brothers, opportunistic entrepreneurs that they were, were off to spread the word about the word about the upcoming 'live demonstration' of the Lockhoof-Flimflam Mk35 Pegasuit. According to some quick bookkeeping by Flam, the revenue from crowds drawn by such an event could easily outstrip some remodeling and repair costs. Several floors of the hotel weren't even finished yet, any damage there would simply extend the work already being done by a week or so. The kicker was the suit. The prototype Mk35 was worth nearly a hundred million bits. There was no way they could offset that loss, if this scheme were to work it needed to be recovered intact. That's where the Wonderbolts came in.

With the makings of a plan laid out in front of them, Soarin, Fleetfoot, Misty, Lightning, and Rainbow all agreed to do their parts to bring Surprise back down to reality in one piece. Regardless of how benign they thought Surprise's intentions were, they all still remembered the oath they'd taken when they'd joined the EUP, to protect the Equestrian public from all threats, foreign and domestic. They especially remembered the consequences if Spitfire caught them shirking that duty.

They also remembered the cut of the extra profits promised to them by the Flim Flam brothers. After all, they hadn't become public servants to do charity work, had they?

Ponies from Lockhoof-Flimflam Aerospace were currently distracting Spitfire and Princess Luna with a number of lengthy presentations on their pegasuit program, all designed to keep the irritable monarch and captain otherwise occupied. Both were, in Fleetfoot's own words, 'total buckin' buzzkills' that would never go along with the scheme. The Flim Flam brothers had assured the Bolts that their ponies had a few hours' worth of mind-numbingly boring material to obfuscate any problems with the pegasuit, and that both Spitfire and the Princess would be tied up for quite some time.

"Ladies and gentlecolts, mares and stallions!" Flam's voice echoed throughout the Golden Apple's entertainment floor. "In conjunction with our partners, Lockhoof-Flimflam Aerospace and Appleoosa Oceanfront Realty, the Golden Apple is proud to bring you a live exhibition of the capabilities of your nation's finest, the Wonderbolts First Demonstration Squadron!" He gestured towards the entrance hall. The lights dimmed. Rock music blared to life through the speakers as two spotlights flared to life and swung towards the ornate golden doors. "Everypony, stamp your hooves on the floor for the bad girl of Prism Plateau... FLEETFOOT!"

The doors slammed open and Fleetfoot galloped into the room, the spotlights tracking her. She took wing, hopping gracefully into the air and landing next to Flim on the raised dias that once held the Mk. 35 suit. She trotted to a halt, striking a sultry pose.

"Next, a pony who needs no introduction, elected 'Most Popular Officer' by the EUP Prom Comittee five years' running, the Charmer of Cloudsdale, here's SOARIN!"

Soarin followed Fleetfoot, waving excitedly to his cheering fans. He gleefully trotted up to the raised platform, only tripping once. He rubbed his bruised muzzle as he took his place next to Fleetfoot, raising his hooves to rile up the crowd. Roses and ponies' undergarments rained down over the two. Fleetfoot blew kisses to the crowd, while Soarin pondered where exactly the wildly cheering groupies found undergarments to throw.

"Now, the Stupendous Sibling Stuntfliers! He's a smooth talker and she prefers to let her hooves do the speaking, MISTY FLY AND LIGHTNING STREAK!!"

Misty and Lightning's entrance was a bit more subdued than their officers. Lightning high-hoofed ponies while Misty scowled and glared. Her own fans didn't mind, they expected nothing less from the Iron Wing herself.

"And finally, the mare that's captured the nation's heart with her heroics and stunned us all with her amazing speed, First Demo's youngest member ever and the Element of Loyalty herself, RAINBOW DASH!!!"

Rainbow zoomed into the room, looping above the crowd and diving into a high-speed three-point landing, sending a tremor through the floor. The crowd went wild as the five Bolts bowed and waved. Flim tossed his microphone to Lightning Streak, who winked and stepped forward.

"That's right folks, and right now we need YOUR help for a little exhibition of good ol' fashioned martial talent! As you may have noticed, we're a pony short today. As of this moment, our colleague Staff Sergeant Surprise is preparing Lockhoof-Flimflam's newest state-of-the-art pegasuit for its first operational test. Surprise is a world-renowned fighter and we will be evaluating her to see how well this new pegasuit augments her abilities. Now we--" he motioned to his squadmates, "--are combat flyers of some renown ourselves." The assembled ponies chuckled. "But no flyer is better than their support system, and frankly, Surprise has given me enough bruises over a lifetime." More laughs.

Lightning tossed the mic to Flam with the flick of a wing. "Sergeant Streak is right," he told the crowd. "The Lockhoof-Flimflam Mk35 is the most advanced weapons platform in the world. Yes, I know it's my company so you can hardly take my word, but I'm so confident about our suit's abilities that I'm willing to put it to the test. Now, standing inside this very room are representatives from the foremost armaments dealers around the world. We are offering you an opportunity of sorts. A chance to market yourselves and your products, if you will. If you think you can arm these fine warriors with the equipment they need to disable my machine and safely capture Miss Surprise, then please step forward." Excited murmurs rippled throughout the crowd as several ponies moved closer to the stage. "And for the ponies here who don't happen to own a shock-spear factory, don't worry! We haven't forgotten about you! This demonstration will be broadcast live to these magical projector screens via the Golden Apple's security footage system, and Mister Streak and myself will be providing commentary for your entertainment! And of course, this is Pegasus..." he grinned, "so if you feel like putting some bits down on the outcome, all bets are now open."

* * * * *

Fleetfoot admired her reflection in the elevator's gilded door. "I know I don't say this often, but--"

"You say it all the time." Misty Fly sighed. "In fact, please don't say it."

Fleetfoot ignored her. "--But I look gooood." She peered over the rims of her new aviator sunglasses. Once solely the domain of certain ponies who held the rank of Captain, she'd acquired her own free of charge from one of the eager vendors. She stood bedecked with a bomber jacket with the fuzzy collar upturned and a wide-bore griffon scattergun slung across her haunches. She smiled like a foal on Hearth's Warming, a toothpick hanging from the corner of her mouth. "Damn good. The rest of you don't look too bad either. Nothing compared to me, of course, but still much better than those sweaty old jumpsuits."

"Thanks." Misty deadpanned. She adjusted her shock spear under her wing, making sure it wasn't hung up on her bandoleer. "That's just what I was concerned about, our new outfits. Not that Surprise is off her meds or anything like that."

"I dunno, I think we can take her pretty easy with all this new gear!" Rainbow said excitedly. She had aquired a set of slimline Guard armor cut to allow her plenty of freedom of movement for her wings. The helmet held a targeting lens in place over her right eye for the repeating magic blaster rigged to her flank, secured via an actuating arm that allowed her to easily wield the ungainly setup. "Look at this thing!" She swung the heavy weapon around, causing Misty and Fleetfoot to subtly step out of the way of its barrel. "Pew! Pew pew! Aww yeah, Surprise doesn't stand a chance!"

"Easy there, Crash." Misty admonished Rainbow. "Surprise may act like a diabetes-inducing ball of sunshine, but don't underestimate her. Why do you think she's named Surprise?"

"...She likes to throw surprise parties?" Rainbow guessed hesitantly.

Misty simply shook her head.

"Don't worry, squad!" Soarin piped up. His naive cheer broke the tension as the squad perked back up. "We'll find her! With teamwork, we can accomplish anything!"

Fleetfoot chuckled at she glanced back at her fellow officer. He really was a ditz sometimes, wasn't he? "That's a nice thought, Clip, but I think that--wait, where did you get a grenade launcher?"

"I don't know!"

Ding.

The doors slid open, revealing an empty, poorly-lit hallway. Bare plaster and plywood sheets lay everywhere, and exposed ductwork and wiring hung from the low ceiling. A few sawhorses and work benches lay abandoned, no signs of life aside from the fluttering of a few plastic tarps affixed over uninstalled windows. Red spray paint decorated the unfinished walls of the foyer. Scribbles of smiling suns and balloons that hadn't quite dried yet. It dribbled down the wall in many places, leaving crimson streaks along the foallike scrawlings. More graffiti down the hallways, from sticklike caricatures of ponies with too-wide grins to 'SMILE smile SMILE' written in four foot high block letters.

"Well, this doesn't look ominous at all..."

"Good evening, mares and gentlecolts! I'm Flim--"

"--and I'm Flam--"

"and we're here tonight to host the First Annual Golden Apple Ponyhunt Mayhem Bowl! Tonight's matchup, the Prism Plateau Wonderbolts vs. Surprise the Party Pony! Brought to you live from the beautifully furnished 40th floor of this very resort! As you can see, the entire floor is tastefully decorated in a decor I like to call 'Construction Site chic,' a style originally made popular by the skyscrapers of 950's era Manehattan and painfully recreated here by Flimflam Resorts for your enjoyment!"

"Wow, seeing it live makes it almost feel like I'm really in a half-finished building!"

"That's right brother, and one of these luxurious rooms could be yours for a price that's nearly a steal! Act now and we guarantee you a suite with a balcony!"

"It's like our mother always said Flim, any room can have a balcony view if you don't put in a wall! With us here in the skybox to provide commentary and keep all you lucky ponies out there updated on your bets is none other than Sergeant Lightning Streak!"

"Thanks Flim, Flam, it's great to be here!"

"Any thoughts on the match, Mister Streak? After all, you know these ponies better than anypony."

"It's gonna be a heck of a show, Flam. Leading the Wonderbolts tonight is 1st Lieutenant Soarin. Normally a second stringer, he's been bumped up to starter by team captain Spitfire's unexpected sidelining."

"Rough break, there. Any word if she'll be able to play at all?"

"Unknown at this point, Flim. Last I heard, she's been caught up in red tape and is hurting pretty badly."

* * * * *

"And so you see, based on third quarter expenditures and QA problems from the Neighropian contractors, the strator discs are experiencing thermal cracking after only a few hundred cycles. Now, restarting production of the substandard units in-house would give us control over the finished product, but would offset Phase Three testing by another two months, leading to an initial loss but allowing us to recoup--"

"Ughhh," Spitfire groaned, slumping in her chair. Imputed Income, Lockhoof-Flimflam's accountant for the Mk35 project, continued talking in a flat monotone as if he hadn't noticed. She nudged the pony seated next to her. "I can't believe how long this guy can drone on about pony-knows-what bullshit. Can you make him stop, or at least skip the boring stuff? Which is all of it?"

"Alas, the duties of a Princess are not all as glamorous as tales would have you believe, noble Spitfire," Luna replied. "Tis expected of us to tend to all aspects of governance, no matter how dull. Thus, we must persevere."

Spitfire pouted. Reasonable? Yes. But she was done with reasonable after the first ten spreadsheets.

"Now, the engineers have solved the exhaust ingestion issue by rerouting the intake ductwork behind the shoulder plates, and we expect to see the Block 30 redesign have a six point three percent thrust increase from the articulating nozzles by--"

"Can't we at least get the Guards to haul him off in chains after he's done?" Spitfire paused. "You know, so he doesn't inflict this torture on anypony else. Yeah. It's our duty to Equestria and all that."

"When I first returned from exile," the Princess replied wistfully, "I often banished nobles who displeased me to rot in the Canterlot dungeons."

"Sweet. I'm down for a little dungeon-tossing."

"Regretfully, we cannot. When I ruled a thousand years ago, such punishments were commonplace. But I can no longer act so brashly in these modern times."

"Why not? I won't stop ya, your Highness. Banish away!"

"You misunderstand. I cannot banish ponies to the dungeons any longer because my sister took away my key."

"Oh..."

"Yes. Fret not, brave warrior, for time is on our side. This pony holding us captive will eventually perish, as mortals do. Then, we shall have our freedom."

"Huh. You, ah, you know I won't live forever either, right?"

"...I admit that fact slipped my mind. My apologies."

"It's no trouble."

"If you would like, I can immortalize you in song should you fall during this battle for our sanity. You will be a legend to all ponies who trot in your hoofsteps until the sun's last setting."

"That's, ah, not necessary. Thanks, though."

"--And the thaumic capacitors overheating won't be an issue thanks to the new shunts, saving an expected aggregate of ten point three million for the production line, assuming that the EUP's tenative order remains--"

"Ugh."

Author's Note

Good news everyone! I'm technically still alive!

It's the Only Way To Be Sure

"Good evening everypony, and welcome back to the Golden Apple Ponyhunt! He's Flim--"

"--and he's Flam--"

"--and we're the Flim-Flam Brothers, sportscasters nonpareil at your service! For those of you just tuning in, with us tonight is Sergeant Lightning Streak of the Wonderbolts!"

"Thanks for having me, Flam."

"So Mister Streak, what can you tell our guests and viewers about the matchup tonight? I'm sure everypony in Las Pegasus is interested to hear about their favored horses' odds of winning!"

"Flim, tonight the game isn't about success, it's about survival. Two teams, one goal, only one can trot away victorious. On one side we have the lone wolf Surprise equipped with the most advanced combat gear money can buy. On the other, the rest of the Wonderbolts looking to take her down any way they can. They may have her outnumbered four-to-one, but let me tell you something Flim, numbers don't mean much when your opponent can tie a piece of rebar into a knot with her hooves."

"Interesting analysis, Mister Streak. Let's take a look at our competitors, shall we?"

Four ponies methodically made their way down the darkened, half-finished hotel penthouse. Each one carried a unique variety of weapons, armor, and equipment with them, appearing at first glance to be an experienced team of highly trained soldiers. As they moved on, a sharp eye might note that their movements were exaggerated and dramatic, and the 'kits' they wore were more stylish than practical, giving more of an impression that they were actors in an Applewood action flick. As they approached the floor's central foyer, the stallion in the lead signalled to his fellow ponies with a series of overly complicated hoofsignals.

The three mares behind him merely looked at each other and shrugged, each at a loss as to what Soarin was trying to tell them. Soarin grunted in frustration and began going through the motions again.

"Uhh... Clip, do you need something?" Fleetfoot asked, unwilling to sit through another guessing game. Soarin was terrible at charades.

"Flashlights! We should probably put our lights on, right?"

"Ooh, right!"

The hall ahead of them grew progressively dimmer, the portable floodlights the construction crews used were few and far between. Fleetfoot clicked on her scattergun's flashlight, aiming it down the hallway and squinting as the brilliant white beam cut into the darkness. Misty followed suit, while Rainbow merely tapped the eyepiece of her advanced rig with a self-satisfied smirk. Soarin yelped as the light duct-taped to the barrel of his grenade launcher shone directly into his face. He shook his head and blinked the light out of his eyes, then sheepishly flipped it around, awkwardly reapplying the torn tape and inspecting his jerry-rigged setup. "Okay ponies, let's move!"

"One sec, sir?" Misty replied tersely.

"What is it, Misty?"

"Somepony should cover our six. Surprise might try to... well... surprise us by smashing though a wall. It's her favorite way to get the jump on ponies."

"The fourth wall?"

"Any wall, ceiling, or floor, sir. You name it, she'll put a pegasus-shaped hole through it."

"Hmm..." Soarin pondered the idea, quickly glancing at Fleetfoot. His wingmare nodded vigorously through the shadows, the idea that Surprise could pop out from anywhere concerned her too. "Okay, Dizz. You take up the rear guard."

"On it, el-tee." The four ponies advanced down the hallway, hugging the walls and sweeping their torchlights to and fro. They saw no sign of anypony else except themselves in the barren half-finished floor. Nothing moved except for the plastic sheeting fluttering in the breeze. Unnerving graffiti marked every wall, from a mane-raising WONDERBOLTS COME OUT AND PLAY to stick figure caricatures of the team being struck by energy beams emanating from a pony in a metal suit.

It was enough to give the team pause. "Uh, what's with all the..." Rainbow trailed off worriedly.

"It's psychological warfare," Misty filled her in. "Basic military tactic. Surprise knows us, she knows how to get to us. Like when she picked out Appleoosa Chainsaw Massacre for movie night and, right at the scary part, jumped out of the closet with a hockey mask."

"I think it's kinda nice!" Soarin chimed in. "Look, she did drawings of all of us!" He pointed towards the stick figure version of himself, which had Xs for eyes and was surrounded by an unsettling amount of red scribbles.

"Riight..." Rainbow shuddered as the team moved on.

"And the Wonderbolts start off with an aggressive offense, moving deep into Surprise's turf with no sign of defenders at all."

"Quite the show, brother! Very impressive on the part of the Wonderbolts' leader, Soarin. Showing a command presence unexpected of an exhibition flyer. Our bookkeepers say he's a crowd favorite, and quite a few confident ponies even bet on him to be the one take Surprise down. Very much the likable pony, but we'll have to see if that translates to skill on the field. Thoughts, Lightning?"

"Well Flam, what we're seeing here is all very rehearsed. Practice and discipline are a Wonderbolt's greatest strengths. When we're flying in close formation at four-fifths the speed of sound, you need to be able to react instantly without thought. Our lives depend on it. We don't have any real-world experience with ground battles though, so we may soon be seeing a weakness in Soarin's full-court press. He's in the zone right now, but as soon as something sets him off-script, we may start to see him stumble."

"Hey Clip, come here and take a look at this." Fleetfoot stared at the hole in the floor in front of her. Soarin, Misty and Rainbow trotted over to take a look at the discovery.

Rainbow leaned over the edge, letting out a low whistle as she stared into the abyss. Something had melted a hole straight through the floor, the next one below theirs, and several more below that. As far as she could see, it kept going all the way down. Brittle concrete gave way to exposed rebar around the ragged edges of the pit.

"The hell did this?" Soarin asked the group. the hole were tinged with a sickly blood-orange hue.

"Let me see," Misty muttered tersely as she shoved her way to the front of the crowd, nearly knocking Soarin into the dark pit.

"Hey, watch it! I almost fell here!"

"You're a pegasus."

"...Right. I knew that."

Misty rolled her eyes as she aimed her shock spear's light at the hole. Unlike her squadmates, she had forgone flashy expensive weapons for a standard guardsmare's spear and armor. She swept the light up to the ceiling, where it illuminated an identical burn hole, bits of a viscous orange substance still clinging to the edges. Misty fluttered up to the damage, carefully scraping a bit of goo onto the tip of her spear. The goop let out an angry hiss as it greedily ate into the metal before her very eyes.

"Just as I thought..." she said to herself as she examined the mysterious substance as it corroded its way though polished steel.

"What is it? Acid? Dragon's blood??"

"Super acid?"

"Dragon's poop?"

"What!?" Misty grimaced in disgust. "No! Faustsakes, what's with you morons today?"

Fleetfoot shrugged. "Honestly? My heart just isn't in it. This is Las-buckin-Pegasus and we're playing hide and seek!? I just want to find Surprise so we can have some fun already..."

"Well, you're in luck." Misty shoved the melted speartip towards Fleetfoot's muzzle. "Smell that?"

"Eugh no!! Why!? Why wouldn't you just tell me??"

"Ugh, lieutenants." Misty rolled her eyes as she carefully unscrewed and swapped the ruined point for a spare. What in Tartarus were they even teaching at officers' school these days? "That's cake frosting, Fleet."

"Cake frosting!?!?" Fleetfoot, Soarin, and Rainbow all stared at Misty quizzically. "Cake frosting did that!?"

"Siracha cake frosting," Misty clarified. The others instinctively jumped back from the ledge. "It's Surprise. She's close, I can feel it."

"Right," Soarin nodded. They'd discovered a vital clue. Now was the time for leadership, for quick thinking and clear decisions in the face of danger. His ponies were counting on him! "I say we split up! We can cover more ground that way!"

Misty facehoofed.

"Ouch! First fumble of the night!"

"Correct, brother, and after such a promising first quarter too! It surely will be a rocky road to recovery for the Wonderbolts! Thoughts, Mister Streak?"

"Classic blunder there, Flim. It'll be a long, hard road back for Soarin if he wants to regain the advantage."

Twin beams of light swept across the upper level of the penthouse as Soarin and Misty made their way up the stairs. Construction equipment piled haphazardly around the room cast odd shadows as their flashlights travelled over them. Plywood. Two-by-fours. Sawhorses. Pluming fixtures for a half-installed hot tub. Nothing out of the ordinary. Soarin bounded up the steps and into the room, Misty covering him from the stairwell.

"Clear!"

Misty lowered her spear and trotted up to join him. "I don't like this, sir."

"I know what you mean," Soarin nodded in agreement. "I mean, a jacuzzi right here in the middle of everything, could they get any tackier? This isn't a ski lodge. Great view, though, love an open floor plan." He paused for a second to admire the Las Pegasus skyline out of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"No, that's not what I... never mind."

"Right on. Okay, we gotta do these bedrooms one-by-one. If she's not in any of these, we'll fly up to give the roof a quick scan then rally with Flatfoot and Crash."

"Wilco. Lead the way, el-tee." Misty brought her spear back up and followed her empty-headed leader, wondering if the others were faring any better and kicking herself internally for forgetting to update her will before she left the Plateau.

* * * * *

Tuk-tuk-tuk-tuk-tuk

Rainbow pivoted through the doorway, levelling her magic blaster as she went. "Clear!" she shouted. Her eyepiece lit up the room in a wash of color, the low-light display showing no sources of heat or magical power in the room. Her motion tracker's metronomic 'all-clear' ticking told a similar tale. "Man, all this new stuff is awesome!"

"Heh, I know right?" Fleetfoot admired her reflection in an uninstalled windowpane resting against a support column. "What looks cooler, boomstick under the wing or slung over the haunches?" She asked Rainbow, modelling various poses with her scattergun.

"Hmm... under wing, for sure. Makes you look like a badflank. Still not as cool as this though," Rainbow struck her own action-flick heroine pose.

"You wish, newbie!"

"Puh-leese, just becasue you're jealous doesn't mean that--" *Beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep* "The buck is that?"

"Dunno. Your radio, maybe? It's not mine."

*Beep-beep beep-beep beep-beep beep-beep*

"Weird, I thought I--oh, shit!" Rainbow swore, finally noticing the 'bogey' blip on her motion tracker. "Contact! Over there!" Both Bolts dove behind piles of construction equipment, shakily leveling their weapons towards the unseen threat.

"How far is it, newbie?"

"Hang on," Rainbow squinted at the screen. "This buckin thing is--"

"CRASH!" Fleetfoot yelled, cutting Rainbow off. "Range, now!"

*Beep-beep beep-beep beep-beep beep-beep*

"Uhh, fifteen meters and closing!"

"Dammit. Okay, get ready to light her up!"

"Buck, we're really gonna do this!? I mean, I know she's got on armor and all that but she's our friend! Sort of."

*Beep-beepbeep-beepbeep-beepbeep-beep*

"She's Surprise! Reality doesn't apply to her, so unless you want to spend all night chained up in her lair while she gives you a clown-makeup makeover, I'd get the lead out! Range?"

"Twelve meters!"

Fleetfoot squinted into the shadows, tightening her grip on her weapon.

"Ten meters! Eight!"

"...That can't be right, that's inside the buckin' room!"

"It's reading right, Fleet! Look! Five meters! Four!"

"Wait a second..." Fleetfoot swept her flashlight down towards the floor. There! Something let out a high-pitched squeal and darted across the floor!

"GAH! GET SOME, MOTHERBUCKER!" *CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK*

Rainbow let loose, sending a hailstorm of magic bolts at the intruder. She jerked her autoblaster wildly, the shots blowing chunks of wood and concrete into dusty pulp as she fired into the dark.

*CRACKCRACKCRACK* "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!" *CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK*

"Crash, what the hell!?" Fleetfoot yelled. Dash ignored her, squeezing her trigger as tightly as she could.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" *CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK*

"DASH!"

*CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKclickclickclick* "AAAAAAAaaaaah... I... did I get her?"

"By 'her' you mean the unluckiest rat in Las Pegasus? No, you missed. Gave it a good scare is all."

"...A rat? No, I saw... way too big..."

"Brosefina, it was totally a rat. You ripped though your blaster's whole charge on a rat. It was a big rat, if that helps."

"I, uh, ok... I'm out of ammo."

"I wonder why."

"Yeah, yeah... do you have an extra crystal or not?"

"Mine uses shells." Fleetfoot tugged on her bandolier for emphasis.

"Ooh! Ooh! I have one!"

"Thanks Surprise." Dash held out a wing behind her and felt somepony hoof her a battery crystal. She quickly pried the burned out the old one from her blaster's articulating arm and popped the new one in place. The weapon gave her an affirmative ding as it energized. "Wait a second..."

Rainbow and Fleetfoot both turned to stare at the pegasus standing between them. She wore mottled gray armor, her flipped-up faceplate revealing bouncy blonde hair, bright purple eyes, and a foolish ear-to-ear grin. "Hi girls!"

"Oh, we are so fu--"

* * * * *

Thump.

Crack.

Wham.

Soarin and Misty listened intently to the muffled cacophony below them. They couldn't get a good look at what was going on, as the stairwell doubled back on itself. Neither showed any enthusiasim to trot downstairs and check.

"I mean, we don't know it's her." Soarin thought aloud, as much to himself as to Misty. "We're in a hotel, it could be some couple having sex, right?"

Thump. Thump.

Misty raised an eyebrow.

"Like, really loud sex."

CRASH!

The pair jumped as the floor behind them exploded. Bits of concrete peppered them as they dove for cover. Blinking their way through the dust and debris, they saw whatever had blown out the floor had been launched upwards with such velocity that it now lay partially embedded in the cieling. The smoke slowly cleared to reveal Fleetfoot entombed above their heads. She briefly struggled against her plaster prison before giving up. "Sup guys," she nodded weakly to Soarin and Misty.

"Fleet?"

"Ma'am!? Are you... how are you alive??"

Fleetfoot tried to shrug. A sharp pain quickly reminded her she was stuck in the ceiling. "Not gonna lie, that one hurt more than I thought it would. I, uh... think I'm gonna hang up here for a bit. Catch up with you later?"

"...sure, ma'am. Take all the time you need."

A high-pitched whine sounded from the floor below, growing into an earsplitting roar as a dark figure slowly rose up through the hole in the floor. The pony hovered over their heads, balancing herself with her wings while white-hot thruster jets along her shoulders and flank supported her weight. She wore a full suit of gray armor with glowing purple eyepieces, her faceplate otherwise unnaturally blank.

Soarin nudged Misty with a wing. "Never mind Dizz, you were right. It was her after all!"

"HIII EVERYPONY!" The harbinger of the end cried, her voice amplified by her suit's speakers. "You made it!! Soo, what do you think of the place? I'm kiiinda in the middle of redecorating, but it's starting to come together really well! That hot tub should be fun for later, eh? Eh?" Her left eyepiece clicked on and off repeatedly in a 'winking' pattern.

Hot, dry exhaust whipped around Misty. She leaned into the storm, shouting over the howl of Surprise's thrusters. "You don't have to do this, Surprise! We worked out a deal with Flim and Flam. Stand down now and we'll make sure Cap never finds out about this!"

"Yeah!" Soarin added. "And I know it's a work in progress but a hot tub right in the middle of the living room is, like, super tacky! You should put it out on the terrace, there's plenty of space and LP has nice weather year-round!"

"Yeah--wait, what?"

"What??" Surprise shouted, the hurt and anger audible even though the Mk35's speakers. She pointed a foreleg at Soarin.

*Scree-BOOM*

The concussion blast slammed into Soarin and catapulted him backwards, tumbling head over hooves. His grenade launcher clattered off into the darkness.

"Not cool, Soarin! You can't just insult somepony's hard work like that! I put a lot of time and effort making this place super awesome for all of us and this is the thanks I get?? Do you know how--oh wait, he's gone!" Soarin had indeed been blown clear of the room, a pony -shaped hole in some plywood at the far end indicated he was likely in one of the bedrooms.

"Oopsie!" Surprise giggled to herself and whirled around in midair only to find Misty gone as well. She playfully slapped her armored forehead with a hoof. "Silly me! I shouldn't monologue so much next time! There's a time and a place, and it's after I have the do-gooders at my mercy! Oh, I should write that down, it'll be good advice for Fleetfoot someday cause she definitely super wants to take over the squadron again and she'll want to monologue when she thinks she's defeated Cap for good cause let's face it, who doesn't want to brag about all their motives and evil plans sometimes? It's the best! Waitaminute... what was I doing again?" A quick glance around confirmed she'd gotten off track. "Ooooh Miiiisty, where'd you gooo?"

Her answer came immediately in the form of a blast of lightning.

"Yipe!" Surprise cried. Her thrusters hiccuped, causing her to wobble in midair. She quickly touched down on the floor as her heads-up display filled with caution messages. Another bolt arced towards her. Surprise swiftly dodged to the side and cut her jets. She landed with a roll and sprang to her feet as more bolts cackled through the air around her, gouging deep scars into the support columns and walls behind her. "Nice shot, Dizz!" Surprise called out into the darkness. She danced out of the way of an oncoming bolt, then aimed her hoof at the source of the lightning. "My turn!"

*Screee-fxztz*

Alarm bells rang in Surprise's ears. She frowned at that, confused. She'd been expecting a boom, not a fizzle. She raised the other hoof at the pile of plywood Misty hid behind.

*Screee-fxztz*

*Ding ding ding!* "Repulsor fault!"

"Aww, mudpies." Surprise muttered. She waggled her hoof to no avail. Misty leaned over her cover and took aim. A white-hot lightning bolt leapt towards Surprise, but she danced away from the blast as effortlessly as a ballerina. Misty cursed. She was fast. Faster than she had any right to be.

Misty cautiously prowled forward. She hated this. All she wanted was a nice, relaxing evening before Spitfire shoved her muzzle to the grindstone, but noooo, Surprise had to go off the deep end and force the rest of the team into this demented game of Ponyhunt. The worst part of it was the growing feeling of dread in her gut. Surprise was getting to her. Nothing ever got to her, not in over ten years of military service. Boot camp? The Academy? A breeze. Assignments to desolate, far-flung outposts? No big deal. Tirek the Destroyer's rampage last year? Been there, done that, got the medal. But now? She'd fought Surprise dozens of times. Nay, hundreds. Their roles as Academy fitness and combat instructors necessitated it. In fact, she usually relished a chance to square off against the Party Pony of Prism Plateau, unlike so many of her comrades. Misty's pragmatism and experience nicely complimented the younger mare's brute strength and unpredictability. She often emerged on even ground or occasionally victorious from their sparring.

This didn't feel like a training session or friendly roughhousing. Misty worried that this time Surprise had really gone off the deep end.

"Hey, did Flim and Flam give the gang a tech support number for their suit?"

Misty blinked at Surprise's out of the blue question. She gave it a moment of thought. "I think there's reset directions printed on the flank."

"Ooh, really? Thanks!" Surprise turned around, looking for the number. "Cause the repulsors are on the fritz and I tried turning them off and back on again but that didn't work so I--darnit! Hold still, flank!" She spun in circles trying to catch up to her own buttocks and find the instructions. "Misty, I can't see them! Are you sure they're on here? Misty?"

Surprise stopped chasing her tail and looked around. Misty was gone.

"Ooh, nice one, totally fooled me! But you can't hide foreeever!!" The metal skin of Surprise's suit glowed, shifting colors to match her surroundings.

"Stealth mode engaged."

"Two can play at this game!"

"An impressive feint on Misty Fly's part! Escaping certain dismemberment to live and fight another day!"

"Indeed, brother! Quite the disappointment from the crowd as well, Misty has beaten the spread! A lot of ponies thought she'd be out by now. Thoughts, Sergeant Str-- Sergeant Streak? Where are you going?"

"Sorry, boys. It's been fun but Misty needs me elsewhere. Twin-telepathy thing, you understand?"

"Ah yes, of course."

"Best of fortune, good sir. Do return swiftly, your insight has been most invaluable."

"Thanks, guys! Mares and gentlecolts, I have to go for now, but don't worry! I won't leave you hanging! Lightning Streak, out!"

*Crack* Fleetfoot's eyes shot open. She'd been rudely interrupted from her peaceful slumber by something that sounded a lot like cracking plaster. She attempted to look around to gain her bearings, but found she couldn't move her head. She briefly struggled and found the rest of her was also held in place by an unknown force.

"Psst! Fleet! Fleet, you up?"

She focused on the voice. To her surprise, Soarin was standing upside-down on the ceiling directly above her, looking down at her with concern written across his face. "Clip? How are you on the ceiling like that?"

"I'm not! You are! You got stuck when Surprise punched you up there, remember? And keep it down, she's still out there!"

"...Right. That hurt. How do I get down?"

"I'm working on that! I found this crowbar and--"

*crackcrumbleCRACK* The pressure around Fleetfoot suddenly released and she crashed down next to Soarin in a shower of plaster.

"Never mind!" Soarin chirped. Groaning, Fleetfoot rose up on all fours, shaking the plaster out of her coat as Soarin tossed her scattergun to her. she deftly caught the weapon and chambered a shell with one smooth motion. The two nodded to each other and made their way foward through the trashed site. They quickly picked up Surprise's trail of unnerving graffiti and smashed construction equipment and began retracing the psychotic party pony's path through the upper levels of the hotel.

It wasn't long before they heard something. Ears perking up, they silently made their way towards one of the penthouse bedrooms. The rustle of a pony wearing too much metal drifted from beyond the doorframe.

The two officers glanced at each other. Fleetfoot silently held up three feathers, to which Soarin nodded in agreement. The two tensed to barge into the room as Fleet began her countdown. Three... two... one... They bounded through, only to see--

"YAAAAAH! EAT LASER, YOU CRAZY JERK!!" *CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK*

The pair dove for cover as the construction site erupted into chaos once again. Bolts of mana scythed through the penthouse, plowing holes in walls and turning columns into scattered chunks of concrete. Strobing purple weapons fire lit up the floor as Fleetfoot and and Soarin tried to will themselves through the floor itself.

*CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK*

"Crash!"

*CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK*

"CRASH! IT'S US!"

*CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK*-- "Wha?"

As the horrendous noise stopped, Soarin and Fleetfoot both peeked up from the floor where they had bravely ~~cowered~~ taken cover. Fleet spoke up first. "It's us, you idiot. Me and Soarin, you know, your bosses?"

Rainbow paled. "Ohmygosh I'm so sorry! I thought you were Surprise! I didn't mean to!!!"

Fleetfoot shook the plaster bits off her coat for the second time in half an hour, breathing deeply to get the trembling under control. She looked over to Soarin, who looked as blissfully unaware of his own mortality as ever. Fleet angrily turned back to a horrified Dash. "You need to check your Celestia-damned fire, newbie! You almost killed us both!"

"Y-yes, ma'am." Rainbow slumped, head low and ears pressed back.

Fleetfoot sighed. "Oh, relax already, Crash! It happens to everypony. If I had a bit for every time Soarin almost killed us on accident, or Cap and Misty almost killed us on purpose, I'd be rich." Rainbow nodded, brightening somewhat. "C'mon, let's mo--" She was suddenly silenced as Rainbow, eyes wide and tight-lipped, clamped her muzzle shut with a hoof. Rainbow put a feather over her own mouth to shush the group, than slowly lifted her hoof and silently pointed towards the motion tracker under her wing.

*Beep-beep beep-beep beep-beep beep-beep*

All three ponies jumped like they'd been hit with lightning. They scrambled for cover as best they could in the darkened penthouse. Fleetfoot shakily aimed her scattergun in the general direction of the approaching dot. The light wavered around around the empty penthouse unil...

"There!" A sudden distortion in the shadows, like heat rising off desert sands. "FIRE!"

*CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK*

*BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM*

Rainbow and Fleetfoot opened up on the unseen threat. A storm of bolts tore through the site, scything after the shadow as it pinballed from one side of the floor to the other. It leaped to the ceiling and barreled towards where the Bolts hunkered down.

Soarin, for his part, armed himself as best he could with a nearby crowbar. He affixed the approaching terror with his best 'I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed' glare.

*CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKclickclickclickclick* "Hey, what the!?" Rainbow shook her blaster in frustration.

"Out again?" A teasing voice asked from above them. The group froze. They slowly looked up to the ceiling. The pony-shaped shadow shimmered and twisted and peeled away to reveal Surprise grinning down at them, armored hooves securely clamped in place to hold her upside down. For a moment that seemed endless. Nopony moved, nopony even breathed.

"BOO!" Surprise leaped down at the three. Soarin and Fleetfoot both jumped out of the way, but poor Rainbow was too weighed down by her high-tech weapon and equipment to escape the iron pony plummeting towards her. Surprise landed on Rainbow with a heavy crash, quickly pinning her to the floor and giggling incessantly all the while.

"Hehehe, gotcha!"

"AAAHH!! Let go! Letmeupletmeupletmeup!"

"Not till you say uncle! Hee hee!"

"AAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

"I'll save you, Rainbow!" Soarin sprang to his hooves and charged down Surprise, raising his crowbar above his head and swinging it down as hard as he could.

*Clanggg*

It bounced right off Surprise's helmet, reverberating in his forehoof. Surprise raised an eyebrow at him before spinning around and delivering a jet-assisted double buck to his side. For the second time that night, Soarin sailed across the floor and collapsed into a pile of quick-set concrete mix bags.

"Yeeeeah, not sure what he wanted to do there. Brave though! Aww, it'll be so romantic to tell that story at your wedding! Or it would've if it had worked, but still, c'mon, two lovers bravely laying down their lives for each other in the face of peril!? That's compelling story! Not like all those stories where it's just like boom! augh! smash! for no reason, like duuh we're not babies we want story and motivations not just mindless destruction!"

"We're not a thing! It was ONE! DANCE!"

*BOOM*

Surprise stumbled forward off Rainbow. She looked up to find herself staring down the barrel of Fleetfoot's scattergun. Smoke wisped off the barrel as she racked the pump. "Here's a story for you, Slowpoke. 'Nutbag loses it, friends give her the beatdown she deserves.' what do you think?"

*BOOM*

"Yowch!" Dozens of pellets bounced off Surprise's suit, but the force of the blast kicked her back a few steps.

"How about this one? 'Celebrity jerk ruins Las Pegasus vacation for everypony?'

*BOOM*

"Or maybe 'Wonderbolts party pony throws WORST! PARTY! EVER!'"

*BOOM*

Surprise stumbled back to the edge of the floor where a floor-to-ceiling window had yet to be installed, leaving only empty space and a fifty-story drop to street level. Her rear hoof slipped off the floor's edge and she teetered in the balance.

Fleetfoot's eye's narrowed."Party's over, Slowpoke!"

*BOOM*

Surprise tumbled over the edge. She beat her wings frantically, struggling to lift the weight of the Mk35 with only her own strength. Then, she fell.

Fleetfoot peered down towards the bright Las Pegasus strip below. "Good riddance," she said before turning her back. She dug a new toothpick out of her jacket and stuck it in her mouth before trotting over to Rainbow. "Ruined my buckin night..."

fweeeeeeEEEEEEEEEE

Rainbow and Fleet both turned just in time to see Surprise rise back into view, white-hot thruster jets once again holding her aloft.

"Oh, we are so boned..."

"Ouch! Will you look at that? Surprise turns the tables on Fleetfoot, snatching a last-minute victory from the jaws of defeat!"

"Correct you are, brother! Victory, and a painful pummeling by all appearances!"

"Indeed, that is some grotesque imagery out there! I would not want to be in the Wonderbolts' horseshoes! This is the most one-sided fight I've ever seen, simply describing what's happening cannot do it justice!"

"Is a wing even supposed to bend that way?"

"I don't know, but let me tell you something brother: I've never been happier to be a unicorn than I am right now. I'm not sure who has it worse, the Wonderbolts or the ponies who picked them in the over/under."

"At least the poor ponies who bet on them still have their health, brother! I daresay--Sergeant Streak?"

"Hey Flim, Flam! I'm back! Sorry about that!"

"Where did you go?"

"Last-minute delivery. What'd I miss?"

"See for yourself. The match will be over any second!"

"Oooh, that's rough! Poor Soarin, I don't know how he takes so many blows to the head like that! This is why nopony ever does PT with Surprise if they can avoid it. Don't count the Bolts out just yet though, Misty's still in play!"

"Yes, but look at how quickly Surprise had triumphed over the other three in mere minutes, what can Misty Fly possibly bring to the match that will change that?"

"You'll see, I wouldn't count her out just yet!"

On the roof of the Golden Apple, three bruised, bloody, and utterly beaten Wonderbolts lay captive, stuck to the exterior stairwell door in thick cocoons of cake frosting. The gooey stuff ooze and dripped around them, sucking them back in whenever they tried to struggle.

"MUAHAHAHAHA!" Surprise cackled evilly as she hovered in front of them. "And now that you know the full extent of my plan to claim Las Pegasus as my own, I'll have no choice but to dispose of you... FOREVER!"

"We don't." Fleetfoot replied flatly.

"That's right, and soon you'll be bwuh?"

"We. Don't. Know. Your plan! You stuck us to the wall thirty seconds ago and started cackling like a madpony! You haven't told us jack!"

"...Really? I swear there was a jump-cut in there somewhere..."

"Do you even listen to yourself sometimes??"

"Nevermind!" Surprise waved a hoof, dismissing the group's concerns. "This way, you won't be able to stop me when you inevitably escape at the zero hour!"

"You don't have to do this, Surprise!" Soarin shouted.

"I know that, duh!"

"No, you don't! We're your friends and--wait, what?" Everypony looked at each other, confused.

"What, did you think I really turned evil? I just wanted us to do something fun together!"

"...wait, what?"

"Whenever we get to visit a fun city, you guys always go off and do your own things!" The armored villain crossed her forelegs in a pouty huff. "Every time! We go someplace cool and fun and exciting and every time Lightning gambles and Misty goes to the bar and Fleetfoot sleeps with groupies! Or Soarin goes to the bar and Misty and Lightning gamble while Fleetfoot goes to the brothel! Or when we did that show in Taiponei and everypony went off on their own. Taiponei has hovering mountains with waterfalls coming off the side, girls! Was that worth missing out on just to go to a strip club?"

"In my defense," Fleetfoot cleared her throat uneasily. "It was a very classy strip club."

Surprise slowly sunk to the rooftop and touched down lightly, shutting off her jets. She sniffled and blinked away hot tears, her lip quivering lightly. I just want us to do something together," she said dejectedly. "As a family..."

Rainbow felt a pang of sympathy for her odd squadmate, as well as yet another feeling of familiarity she couldn't quite place. "Okay, I get that," she replied. "But was all of this really necessary? The stealing and the evilness and the fight which was totally a draw? Couldn't ya have just, y'know, asked?"

"Nopony ever listens! I always have all these super cool ideas about what we could do in a new town and everypony just ignores it!"

"Aw Slowpoke, we didn't know you felt like that!" Soarin reached out to put a comforting hoof on his friend's withers, but was stopped from doing so by the goo encasing him to the wall. "Nopony here wanted to freeze you out, honest! If it means that much to you, we can spend more time together on our off days!"

"Speak for yourself," Fleetfoot muttered. "My schedule's kind of full."

"Fleeet..."

"Fine..." Fleetfoot rolled her eyes. Soarin could be such a buzzkill sometimes. It was like having a conscience or something, ugh. "I'll head over to Candyflank's after this and get my deposit back."

Surprise's lip quivered again, now with joy as she positively seemed ready to burst with smiles. "Really?"

"Sure. Why not. I'm on the rewards program there anyway, no bee dee." Fleetfoot shrugged. "Sooo... gross sticky group hug?"

"Yaaaaaaayyy!!!" Surprise jumped onto the three, wrapping them in an armored, hydraulically-assisted bear hug. "You girls are the greatest! Friends! EVER!"

"Aww, we love you to, Surprsie!" Soarin returned the embrace warmly.

"Eh, whatever." Fleetfoot less so.

Rainbow had other concerns. "Ack! AIR! AIR!"

"This is so exciting!" Surprise released the three, hopping up and down excitedly. "What does everypony want to do later? A show? A nightclub!? We haven't done an outing like this in soooooo long!!"

"What about this?" Fleetfoot asked. "A lot of ponies put money down on this battle, they're not gonna like us just calling it quits. We gotta think of something."

No sooner than she'd spoken, several reverberating thumps shook the stairwell and surrounding roof. Just as everypony turned to see what it was, the door flew of its hinges with a terrific crash. A hulking quadraped figure stomped its way out of the stairwell, emerging from a cloud of sawdust.

Misty Fly sat in the cockpit of the bulky power loader, squaring off the boxlike yellow-and-black mech against Surprise's slim pegasuit. "SURPRISE!" She shouted through the machine's speakers. "STAND DOWN NOW OR I WILL PUT YOU DOWN!"

Fleetfoot gave her comrades an uneasy aside glance. "Ooor we could just watch let these two settle it with a rooftop robot rumble..."

Surprise's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "GASP! A Wingland-Hooftani Power Loader!? It's not even my birthday!!!!" She began to slowly trot towards Misty.

"Whoa Slowpoke, easy there..." Misty unconsciously shifted her mech backwards half a step. She had little idea what she stumbled into, but she didn't like the look in Surprise's eye. It was beyond madness.

"BANZAI!"

* * * * *

"Fillies and gentlecolts, after what was truly a fight for the ages, a spectacle so grand that anypony who missed it will surely be kicking themselves for years to come, I present to you the winner of the first Golden Apple Ponyhunt: Sergeant MISTYYY FLYYYY!!"

Flim and Flam stood on either side of Misty, raising their forehooves to showcase the victorious fighter. Misty, battered and exhausted, reared up in celebration. She wobbled drunkenly, allowing Flim and Flam to catch her in their magic and raise her up as the crowd went wild. The rest of the team stood off to the side of the stage in varying states of cheer, fatigue, and injury. Surprise jumped happily up and down, showing little wear from the fight. Her Mk35 sat on display center stage, considerably worse off than its pilot but still technically in one piece. Fleetfoot, Rainbow, and Soarin had been less than successful in removing the gooey frosting now caked into their coats, but their egos demanded they play it off as no big deal.

As Flim and Flam finished extolled the virtues of live-fire entertainment to the masses, the Bolts made their way off stage. Golden Apple security kept the throngs back so the team could find some time to relax after their ordeal. They slid into a circular booth table, where a waiter promptly appeared to take their drink orders. Misty slid next to Surprise, leaning over to the party mare and speaking in a hushed tone.

"Slowpoke... you put up a good fight. Congrats."

"Aww, thanks Dizz! I thought I had you when I tossed you off the roof! Nice landing!"

"Yeah, thanks." Misty grimaced at the memory. "Soarin explained the whole deal to me... I'm sorry about blowing you off all the time. I'm not the most social pony in Equestria. You're a good teammate, and you deserve better than that."

"Awwwww!" Surprise went in for a hug, but Misty stopped her.

"Maybe just... town it down just a little? Please? For me?"

"Sure thing, best friend!"

"Right..." Misty looked around uneasily. "You didn't happen to... throw the fight, did you?"

*crick* Surprise's head suddenly snapped to a thirty degree angle. Her ears twitched crazily. She had the same wide smile, but now it was wooden, forced. "Hahahaha why would you think that? You won fair and square!"

"Fifty-to-one odds against me. I'm good, but I'm not stupid. Even with that loader you had me completely outclassed."

"I sure I don't know what you're talking about!" That same wooden grin. Across the table, Lightning casually moved a casino voucher made out to WONDERBOLTS 1ST DEMO SQDN RETIREMENT FUND off the table out of sight. He'd distribute the rest of the team's cuts later, when they'd calmed down a bit. He and Surprise exchanged subtle nods.

"What was that nod!?" Misty demanded. "I'm right here, you idiots. I can see the both of you working something."

"Nope! We definitely didn't rig anything to win the squadron a ton of money!"

"...Forget it. The less I know, the less I'm complicit." The waiter had arrived with their drinks. Misty grabbed her gin and tonic. She took a sip, reflecting on the night's ridiculous events. As she replayed her memories of the search and battle, one thing struck her as odd. "...Soarin?"

Soarin looked up from his fruity, sugary, tiny-umbrella-adorned drink. "Yes'm?"

"What happened to that grenade launcher you took from the expo?"

* * * * *

A small brown colt in a propeller beanie ran excitedly to his mother and shook her foreleg. "Mom! Mom! Look what I found! Can I keep it!?"

"Hm?" His mother asked, too distracted by the Golden Apple's giant projection screens showcasing a knock-down drag-out battle between two pegasi in armored mechs taking place on the roof of the building to look and see what her son was talking about. "Sure, Button, go ahead. Just stay close to mommy, okay? No getting lost!"

"Sweet!" The colt jumped excitedly, examining his brand new grenade launcher. "This is just like in Call of Harmony!"

* * * * *

"I'm pretty sure I gave it back."

"That's a relief." Misty looked around the table. "Any loose ends we're missing here?"

Fleetfoot shook her head. "We're all present and accounted for, no major injuries, Flim and Flam got their suit back and held up their end of the deal. Nopony on the Longest Night gave any indication they knew what went down. Think we're all good, Sarge."

"Are you sure?"

"As far as I know. This night feels like it's dragged on for months."

"True. I know I'm not in charge here, but I think I speak for everypony when I suggest that maybe we just relax for the rest of the night?" A quick nod and smile to Surprise. "Relax together?"

"I'm cool with that," Rainbow replied.

"Sure!" Surprise practically vibrated in her seat. "A nice, low key night in? Soo exciting!!"

"You got it, sis," Lightning Streak nodded.

Fleetfoot glanced wistfully at a nearby group of young, handsome stallions. "I suppose I can take one for the team."

"Then it's settled!" Soarin sucked down the last of his sugary concoction through the crazy straw. "By the power vested in me by the Earth-Unicorn-Pegasus Guard, I now pronounce this squadron off the clock! Waiter! Another peach daiquiri, please!" He took his new glass in wing, raising it in a toast. "Everypony!" He shouted happily. "To the best squadron I've ever had the pleasure of working with!"

"Hear, hear!"

"And to our fearless leade--uh oh..."

* * * * *

"...and due to the delicate mana pathways in the hoof gauntlets, the repulsors are vunerable to high voltage surges, which will trip the breakers and render them inoperable until reset. This leaves the suit without its primary nonlethal offensive capability, so for the Block 40 upgrade we're planning on installing a set of secondary capacitors to--"

"ENOUGH!!" Princess Luna roared, suddenly waking Spitfire from either a very deep sleep or a mild coma. Imputed Income wisely backed away from the enraged deity until his flanks pressed against the wall. "THIS CHARADE WILL STAND NO LONGER!"

"But Your Majesty," Imputed Income began, "without a proper review, the new budget will--"

"SILENCE, PEON!" Imputed winced at he full force of the Royal Canterlot Voice. The concussive force of Luna's shouting shattered the office's windows. "I WILL NOT BE HELD CAPTIVE LIKE SOME CAGED BEAST! I AM YOUR SOVEREIGN, AND I DECREE THIS BUDGET MEETING OVER!"

"Princess!?" Spitfire stared at the furious monarch before her, so unlike the calm, patient alicorn she'd met just hours earlier. "With all due respect, what the hay? What happened to 'endure and persevere' and all that?"

"Do you not feel it, noble Spitfire? The call of adventure, of mortal combat coursing though your veins!? Somewhere in this very building, ponies are entering in GLADIATORIAL BATTLES! WITHOUT ME!! I did not live thousands of years to sit idle in red tape while others duel to the death!"

"Now that you mention it, I do feel something..." Spitfire furrowed her brow in concentration. "This feeling... calling to me... like my fliers are drinking without me!"

"YES!!" Luna cried. "You DO understand!!" She lit her horn, flooding the room with bright blue light. The spell subsided, revealing chains and a gag wrapped tightly around Imputed Income. "Come, brave warrior! We away to adventure, and glorious honor earned with blood and steel!"

"Um, sure." Spitfire hopped out of the way as Luna levitated the heavy conference table. She launched it at the wall, smashing a hole through the buildings exterior to the outside. "The, uh, the window was already open. You know, cause of the shouting..."

"AWAY!!!!"

Author's Note

"Sometimes I'll start a sentence, and I don't even know where it's going. I just hope I find it along the way."

-Steve Carell

Spitfire's Day Off

Note: This chapter takes place immediately following the events of "Top Bolt"

"Aren't you overreacting just a little bit?"

"I'm not overreacting, Clip. In fact, I'd say anypony that doesn't vomit at the sight of you is grossly underreacting."

"Oh, come on! It's not that bad, I can barely feel it!"

"I'd say that's because you don't keep any valuable organs in your head, but at this point I'm legitimately worried." Fleetfoot quipped as she and Soarin trotted down the row of administration buildings toward the base clinic. Fleet gave her wingpony a once-over as they walked. She was still uncomfortable with this whole 'concern for another pony' thing. It didn't suit her. Soarin tightly pressed a stained washcloth just below his ear, a thin copper rod jutting out from under it at an odd angle. "I mean, it looks like a through-and-through, but Faust dude how are you still on your hooves?"

"C'mon Fleet, just let it go already. I'm fine, we're almost to the sick bay, let's just get inside without anymore awkward questions." Soarin replied tersely. He couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. Training injuries were part of the job, a necessary risk that came with constantly honing one's skills to be the best they could be. Weren't they?

As they climbed the steps to the clinic, a yellow mare mare in an officer's dress uniform dropped from the sky, flaring to a stop in front of them. "Fleetfoot, Soarin," Spitfire greeted her two lieutenants. "What happened? Misty sent my office a message about some sort of accident out on the thunder course and bucking Tartarus Soarin, what happened to your head?"

"Ma'am," both junior officers saluted their captain. Soarin winced as his hoof bumped up against the hunk of metal that neatly skewered the right side of his cranium. "One of the lightning capacitors malfunctioned," he explained to Spitfire as she gaped at him, frozen in shock. "I don't think it's salvageable."

"What Whinnyus Gage here means to say," Fleetfoot jumped in, "is that it took one strike from the practice thunderhead and the whole storage unit blew the frak up. I think we should put a halt to all weather magic reclamation until we have those junkheaps inspected, ma'am. They're getting old, and that might not be the only faulty one." She paused to think the situation over, not wanting to leave out any information her commanding officer might need. "Good news is we've still got the lightning rod." Fleet flicked a wing off Soarin's embedded head-rod with a soft plink. "So, you know, if we need it for anything..."

"How are you even here!? How are you alive right now??"

Soarin frowned as he mulled the question over. "Just doing what I usually do to be alive? You know, breathing and stuff."

"Cap, if we're all being honest here, I've always considered it a minor miracle that Soarin learned to preen without choking on his own feathers. Is this honestly that different?" Fleetfoot added unhelpfully.

Spitfire had seen enough. "Clinic. NOW." She pointed a wing at the entranceway behind her.

"We're going already, jeez!" Spitfire sighed and rubbed a hoof along the bridge of her muzzle as her two squadron officers trotted up the stairs. The Wonderbolts were the elite, the best and brightest volunteers hoofpicked from all over Equestria. The demonstration team doubly so, as they were the face of the entire military. What vengeful deity had Spitfire pissed off to be saddled with these two?

*Clang* "Ow."

The absolute pride and joy of the EUP officer corps...

*Clanggg* "Oof! Hey, Cap?"

...are a megalomaniac and a moron.

Spitfire turned around to see Fleetfoot rolling around in hysterics as Soarin attempted to get his new cranial appendage through the clinic's front door. The rod was too long to fit lenghtwise through the doorframe. He tried again only to bounce backwards with an echoing clang.

"Ouch. Cap? I don't think this is gonna work..."

Fleetfoot smacked a hoof on the ground as she laughed at Soarin's predicament. "Hey Cap, you want me to call Wrench Turner and have him bring over an acetylene torch?" She giggled. "Or we could widen the wall!"

"Oh, for the love of Celestia..." Spitfire grumbled as she marched back up the stairs to her beleaguered lieutenant. "Look that way," She pointed with a hoof. Soarin turned his head to the left, bringing the bar in line with the doorframe lengthwise. "Now, For-wahd march!" Soarin promptly complied, easily trotting though the door.

"Hey, it worked!" He cried happily, turning around to show Spitfire. "Cap, it works!" *Clang* "Ow, who put a fire extinguisher there?"

"Bahahahahaha! You did it again! Hey Clip, look at me!"

"What?" *Clang* "Ouch!"

"This is the best day of my life!" Fleetfoot choked out between guffaws.

Spitfire's eye twitched. "You know what?. No. Nope. I'm not dealing with this."

"But Cap--"

"--Don't you 'but Cap' me, mister! You," Spitfire jabbed a wing at Soarin, "are going to get that thing yanked out of your head and I..." she considered her words for a moment. Between the day-to-day stresses of running a high-profile squadron and several near-disasters caused by her ponies' more impulsive moments, she was worn out. Yelling her lungs off at the newest crop of hapless Academy cadets had been cathartic, but not enough. What else could she do? "I'm out. Leaving. Taking a personal day. Take your pick!"

Fleetfoot raised an eyebrow. "Cap, can you do that? Don't get me wrong, I'm all for shirking of responsibility, but that's pretty rash."

"Can it, Starscream. I just have to run it by the squadron commander. Oh hey, Captain Spitfire!" Spitfire lowered her voice an octave. "Yes, Spitfire? Can I get this request for a last-minute leave day approved?" She mimed the act of opening a file folder, as if she were looking over a subordinate's paperwork. "Sure thing, Spitfire! Take the day off! Hay, take the whole week off. Thank you, Captain Spitfire!" She snapped off a sarcastic salute, then threw on her aviator sunglasses for good measure. "Perks of being the boss, bitch. Spitfire. Out!!"

Spitfire trotted out the clinic's front door, spread her wings, and leaped into the air. Soarin and Fleetfoot stared at her retreating form.

"That was... unexpected."

"Yeah, I--" *Clang* "Owwieeee!"

"C'mon, buddy. Let's see if we can't get that rod of yours filed down and pass you off as the newest Princess."

"Neat!"

* * * * *

"CADETS!" Misty Fly snapped at the formation of pegasi assembled before her. They stiffened as she paced in front of them, their postures going from 'statue' to 'quantum stasis'. "I am Master Sergeant Misty Fly, your senior training instructor! Today you embark on the most difficult journey of your lives! Each and every one of you has proven you have the raw talent to become a Wonderbolt, but that is a title that is EARNED, not given! Your time here at the academy will transform you from a mere civilian to a disciplined airpony of the Earth-Unicorn-Pegasus Guard! For the next twelve weeks, we will hone your skills, push you to your limits, and weave the discipline and professionalism of a true Wonderbolt into your very souls!" She paused to let her words sink in to the newest class of Academy cadets. "I'm not going to lie to you, this will be the most difficult three months of your lives. Come graduation day, some of you will not be standing here with us!" The class shifted uneasily. Several ponies blanched. A dark stallion and white-coated mare near the front glanced at each other, worry in their eyes. "But those of you who show you are committed to serving your Princess and holding yourself to the highest standards--oh, don't give me that look!" Misty cried, having noticed the fear in the eyes of the class. "Some ponies might wash out, not die! What a bunch of downers..." she trailed off with a grumble. "Disregard that! Squadron, tench-hut!"

The wavering crowd snapped back to the position of attention.

"Sound off for roll call! Cadet Cloudy Peaks!"

"Here, ma'am!"

"Cadet Vapor Trail!"

"Here, ma'am!"

"Cadet Sky Stinger!"

"Here, ma'am!"

"Cadet... Thunder Dust?"

"Here, ma'am!" A green pegasus with a golden mane and a thick black mustache raised her hoof.

Misty squinted at the pony. She had the oddest feeling she'd seen this cadet somewhere before, but the seconds ticked by and nothing came to her. She shook it off and continued down the list. "Cadet Angel Wings!"

"I'm here, ma'am! And let me say that you're like, my favorite instructor in all of Equestria!"

"Can the chatter, Cadet! The proper response to your superior during roll call is 'yes, ma'am' or 'here, ma'am,' nothing more! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, CADETS!?"

"YES, MA'AM!"

"Excellent! Then there won't be any misunderstanding about this next part: Drop and give me twenty! All of you! MOVE!" Misty blew her whistle as the class assumed the wing-up position. "One-two-three-ONE! One-two-three-TWO! One-two-three-THREE!" Misty gave out a few more whistle blasts to properly motivate the cadets as they pushed out their wing-ups. As the class worked up a sweat, Misty noticed Spitfire trotting her way. "Ma'am?"

"Sergeant," Spitfire returned Misty's salute. She only stuck to formalities at Misty's insistence that they remain professional in front of the cadets. Spitfire considered professionalism a lost cause in a compound that contained the likes of Fleetfoot, but humored Misty regardless. She took her job as instructor very seriously, and Spitfire preferred to stay on good terms with one of her only competent underlings. "Have you seen Rainbow Dash lately?"

"She's on leave, ma'am. Left a few hours ago."

"Ah, shi--ahem," Spitfire coughed into a wing. The cadets were all too busy pushing themselves up by the wingtips to notice. "I need you to find her and bring her back to base. Tell her it's an emergency."

"An emergency?" Misty asked, concerned. "Is this something the squadron should know about?"

"Nope! No need for that," Spitfire brushed away her worries. "It's a secret mission. Classified. You know, need-to-know stuff."

Misty's eyebrow inched upwards. "And I..."

"Don't need to know," Spitfire finished for her. "Just roll with me on this one, Dizz? Please?"

"Of course, ma'am. You're the boss." Misty eyed her suspiciously. "What do you want me to do about the greenwings?"

"Don't worry about it. I had them all through trial week, I can handle them until you get back with Crash." Misty hesitated another moment, then shrugged. As she turned to leave for the flight to Ponyville, Spitfire stopped her with a hoof. "Wait!"

"What is it?"

"...leave the whistle. I've had a rough day."

* * * * *

"Blackflight One Six, Canter Center. You are cleared to decend at flier's discretion, Tac-net is DRAGON KILLER on three six two point zero if you need it."

Spitfire hoofed her radio. "Blackflight One Six, three six two point zero, thanks."

"Oh man, my first black op! This is going to be so awesome!" Rainbow cried as she skimmed above the cloud layer, neatly tucked in formation with Spitfire. "Where are we going? Alpacistan? The changeling kingdom? The gates of Tartarus??"

"It's a secret mission, Crash. Emphasis on the secret."

"Right, okay, I'm just so excited! I can't wait to tell the girls about this! Oh, and Gilda! When she finds out she's gonna flip her beak!"

"...I'm beginning to think you don't understand the concept of a secret mission."

"Aah! No wait, I won't spill the beans, promise!" Rainbow mimed zipping her mouth shut. "Eyes only, on Celestia's secret service, boss! This is just. So. Freaking. Cool!! How far is it? When are we gonna get there?"

"Now, as a matter of fact." Spitfire replied over the roar of the wind between the two fliers. "The staging area's just down there!" She pointed her hoof down at a hole in the cloud layer, then rolled over and pulled into a dive. Rainbow expertly followed her down through the clouds, revealing a small town surrounded by lush, rolling hills. Quaint cottages and shops dotted the banks of a gentle stream, gradually giving way to farms that brushed the edge of a sinister forest to the north. Rainbow even spotted a cloud mansion that looked a lot like her own and a... crystal castle?

"What the hay!?" Rainbow cried indignantly. "You could've told me we were going to Ponyville!?"

Spitfire sighed. "For the last time, Airmare. Secret. Mission! You don't get to know where we're going until we get there! That's how classified operations work!"

"No, I mean I was already here! Why'd you drag me all the way back to the Plateau? You could've met me here!"

"Oh!" Spitfire thought about that one as the two swooped down for a landing in an alley a few blocks away from the market square, out of sight of Ponyville's exceptionally curious pedestrians. "Sorry about that. Misty never actually said where you went. Honestly didn't put two and two together." She cringed awkwardly. "This must be how Soarin feels all the time."

"Gee, thanks a lot. Ugh," Rainbow grimaced as she folded and spread her wings gingerly. "Sore," she complained. "Great, now I've got wing cramps for, well, whatever this mission is! Do you know how much of a workout it is to do that flight three times in a day at top speed?" Spitfire's top speed, not her own. Try as they might to match her Rainboom, the other Wonderbolts remained firmly in the 'subsonic' category of pegasi.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Spitfire replied. "Our 'mission' to relax. You're here to help me enjoy a leave day."

"What!? You said this was national security! Life or death stuff!"

"Shades of truth, newbie. If the CO of the Wonderbolts is too stressed out to make proper decisions, it negatively affects the safety of Equestria. What if Grogar attacked Equestria while I was running on a week of no sleep? Or the Storm King? Do you know how hard it is to coordinate a nationwide military defense against the Storm King when you're so out of it you can barely see straight? Because I really don't want to find out."

"What's a Storm King?"

"Classified. So, are you in or out?"

"I'm here, aren't I? Still, you could've just told me..."

"It's not that simple, newb," Spitfire chuckled. "Needed to make a clean getaway, I say I'm taking a personal day and half the ponies on the base will come running with last-minute things they need my approval for. Besides, you'll enjoy this," She reached into the jacket of her dress uniform with a forehoof and pulled out a small plastic evidence baggie filled with crumbled green plant buds.

Rainbow stared at the bag. "Okay, now I'm really confused."

"C'mon, newbie." Spitfire rolled her eyes. "I found this in your locker during inspections. Don't act innocent with me."

"What!? That isn't mine! I don't even know what that is!!"

Spitfire felt her temper flare. She was about to rip into Rainbow with the dressing-down to end all dressing-downs when she realized she was holding the wrong piece of contraband. "Ah, buck me in the head! You're right, this is oregano from Surprise's spice stash." She shoved the baggie back in her jacket pocket and dug out a crumpled paper card. "This is what I found in yours. A rewards card for free massages at the Ponyville Day Spa."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I, uh, lent Rarity my flight jacket a few times over winter and she must've--"

"Save it, Dash. Your name's on it, see? 'To our most valued customer, Rainbow Miriam Dash!' So don't tell me you're 'not into girly frou-frou' stuff," she threw her foreleg over Rainbow's withers and hissed into her ear."Because I. Need. This."

"I, uhh..."

"Observe," Spitfire stretched her neck, popping her vertebrae like corn in a kettle.

Rainbow cringed at the noises firing off from her squadron leader's spine. "Okay, okay! I get it, you need a spa day, like, yesterday! C'mon..." She poked her head out of the alley, checking both directions to assure herself that the street was absent of ponies that might recognize her. She shoved her wayfarers on, pulled up the collar on her Wonderbolts flight jacket, and galloped down the road towards a steepled blue roof.

"Of course..." Spitfire sighed, taking off after her.

The trip was a quick one, the two had touched down only a few blocks from the spa. Spitfire couldn't understand the point of Rainbow's disguise, as her wingmate's fame plus her distinctive mane and tail made her almost as recognizable as the Princesses. She had fans from all over the world, she couldn't expect to fool ponies from the small town she'd lived for years? Nevertheless, nopony recognized the two as they made their way down the street and into the spa, either due to light hoof traffic or, as Spitfire increasingly suspected, a silent agreement between the townsponies to simply humor Rainbow and her 'tough-girl' act.

The tinkling of a bell greeting them as they trotted through the front door. A pretty blue-and-pink mare looked up the front desk. "Ah, mees Dash! How vunderful to see you again! I did not know you had an appointment today!"

"Hey Lotus," Rainbow replied. "I'm not actually on the books for today, think you could squeeze in two walk-ins? My friend here needs a deep-tissue, like, pronto."

"Hmm, let me see! Ah yes, ve have openings for two! Aloe!" Lotus Blossom called to her sister. "Customers! So, mees Dash, vill you be vanting your usual pampered--"

"Ix-nay on the ampering-pay!" Rainbow hissed. "Uh, Cap, we're here for you, what do you want?"

Spitfire smirked at Rainbow's panic, but said nothing. What did she want? It wasn't a question she heard often these days.

"What I want..." She trailed off as she thought about it. "What I need right now is for your biggest, strongest masseuse to pound the crap out of my back and wings. I've got five years' worth of tension to get rid of, and tomorrow I gotta hop right back to Prism Plateau and put out whatever fires have started since I left."

"But not, like, literally, right?" Rainbow reassured Lotus with an uneasy smile.

"I know what I said, Crash. So," Spitfire turned to Lotus, "think you can help me out?"

The masseuse gave her a knowing smile. "Oh, I think ve have just ze pony for you..."

* * * * *

"Ahhhh..." Spitfire sighed as she lazily rolled around on the plush couch. The two had retreated back to Rainbow's cloud mansion after their spa sessions ended. Spitfire continued to be impressed by the loudmouth newbie. This place was amazing, and Rainbow had somehow managed to afford it on a weatherpony's salary? Seemed almost unreal to somepony used to Cloudsdale prices. Even her furniture was made from soft, puffy cumulus clouds. It was heaven. "That was great. Remind me to send some derby tickets to the staff later. What was my guy's name again? Buff?"

"Bulk. Bulk-ow-Biceps," Rainbow limped over from the kitchen, two drinks held in wing. "He was in my Academy class."

"I thought he looked familiar! Did he wash out?"

"I dunno. He might be on one of the reserve squadron rosters."

"Hm. I should apologize for not recognizing him. Maybe offer him a job as First Demo's personal trainer too..." Spitfire started thinking of ways she could fudge the paperwork to get her squadron its own massage therapist when she noticed Rainbow winced as she sat down. "Crash? Is something wrong?"

"Ouch-nothing," Rainbow replied through gritted teeth.

Spitfire merely raised an eyebrow at her wingmare.

"Okay, that miiight've been a little more intense than my usual," she admitted. "I can barely feel my wings!"

"Why'd you get it, then?"

"Cause I'm a Wonderbolt! We can't just go around getting hooficures and pampered mud baths! We gotta act, yknow, cool!"

"Dash, being a Wonderbolt means you get to decide what's cool. If you want to dress in a bathrobe and sit in a hot tub full of dirt all day, go ahead. Who's gonna say anything?"

"Well... what about the rest of the team!?"

"They don't care if you're cool, they just like hazing the new meat. You could be Firefly herself reborn and they'd find something to give you grief over. Think about this: Soarin's my number two, right?"

"Yyyyeah?" Rainbow frowned, unsure of where Spitfire was going with this.

"When's the last time he's done anything remotely cool? Flying doesn't count, it's part of the job."

"...Huh."

"Yep." Spitfire burrowed deeper into the most comfortable furniture she'd ever had the privilege of laying upon. "You don't mind if I stay here tonight?"

"Sure." Rainbow sipped her drink. "I don't get, Cap. You said you love your job, so why are you hiding out here?"

"I do! I do love my job..." Spitfire trailed off. "But the little things that wear on a pony build up. Squadron commander duties are no joke, they'll break you if you don't take some time for yourself every now and then. Better now than when it actually matters."

"I guess," Rainbow shrugged. To her, becoming captain of the Wonderbolts was a lifelong dream, the absolute highest she hoped to reach. How could somepony not enjoy the most awesome job in Equestria? The very idea was ridiculous to her. Still, her captain needed her hospitality, and damned if her name wasn't Rainbow Loyalty Dash. Okay, it wasn't, but only because her dumb parents had lost her birth certificate and the dumb court wouldn't let her change her dumb middle name without it! "Guest room's upstairs to the right."

"Thanks again, Dash. One good night's sleep, then I'll be ready to face whatever ridiculous disaster awaits back at base."

* * * * *

"Plateau Tower, Blackflight One Six, flight of one inbound for visual two-seven."

"Blackflight One Six, Prism Tower. You're number one in the pattern, cleared to land two-seven."

"Blackflight One Six cleared to land two-seven. Be advised, I do not have the fire and rescue units in sight."

"Blackflight One Six, standby... I'm not showing any ARFF flyers deployed. Do you need assistance?"

"Negative, negative, I'm fine. I, um... I thought they'd be out?"

"Nope, it's been quiet all morning. See you groundside, Blackflight."

Spitfire frowned as she rolled into a lazy turn towards the runway. Huh. Did not expect that. Still, better be ready for anything...

* * * * *

"MUAHAHAHAHA!! ALL OF EQUESTRIA IS NOW MY DOMAIN! BOW BEFORE YOUR NEW SOVERIGN!!!"

"What!? No! This can't be true!!" Soarin cried. "It's impossible!!"

"Search your feelings, you know it to be true! Now, hand 'em over!"

"Nooooooooo!" Soarin threw his cards down in dispair. He pouted as he pushed the last of his chips into Fleetfoot's larger pile the other side of the upturned crate. "You never said Discords were wild!"

"Ah, but I never said they weren't, either! Everpony knows Discords are always wild unless somepony calls it!" Fleetfoot crowed happily as she gathered her winnings. The two of them sat in the otherwise empty barracks. Streamers, banners, and get-well-soon cards addressed to Soarin decorated the normally spartan bunk bay. "C'mon now, all of it!"

"But this was a gift!"

"Too bad! You bet it, now you lost it! So take! It! Off!" Fleetfoot grinned evilly and steepled her front hooves. "Slowly."

Soarin carefully raised the golden tiara off his head, taking care not to touch the copper rod still lodged in his cranium. The clinic doctors, astounded by the walking medical miracle that was Soarin, had wisely decided to call for a specialist from Canterlot, a unicorn experienced in magical brain surgery. He was due to arrive the next day, and in the meantime the clinic staff had filed Soarin's newest appendage down to a shiny metal 'horn' and sent him home for the day. The crown itself bore a royal crest shaped like a pie and an inscription: 'To the prettiest princess of Prism Plateau, get well soon!! We miss you!! <3 Surprise.'

"Aww. Shortest reign ever."

"Sorry, buddy." Fleetfoot shrugged as she placed the tiara upon her head. "You had a good run. If it's any consolation, I'll put you in charge of my legions of terror. Maybe we even can rig a shock spear to that sucker and give you some crazy lightning powers!"

"Awesome!" Soarin perked up. "Thanks for keeping me company today, Fleet. I know you must be busy since you were acting squadron commander and everything."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm the greatest," Fleetfoot said as she counted her winnings. "Wait, what do you mean I was squadron commander!?"

Soarin scratched at his bandages in confusion. "Seriously? C'mon ladybro, Cap took the day off and I'm on sick call. Who's next on the chain of command?"

Fleetfoot opened her mouth to object, but found words had failed her.

Author's Note

Today's episode brought to you by excruciating back pain!

I've got a good feeling about that Thunder Dust cadet. Who doesn't trust a mare with the confidence to pull off a fake mustache?

Season Finales Are Built On Hope

The setting sun cast long shadows across the desert, offering relief to the critters who'd spent the scorching hot day hiding under any shade they could find. As Celestia's fiery orb dipped towards the peaks of the distant mountain range, the coyotes, snakes, and other animals who'd made their home in Equestria's southern wastelands made their way out of their burrows, eager for another night of foraging for food.

Eager, that is, until two dozen pegasi zoomed over their heads, kicking up dust and rocks as they hugged the desert floor at breakneck speed. Most wildlife turned right back around and crawled back into their dens as the squadron of speedsters rocketed by. The desert heat was bad enough; they didn't need this shit.

"Red Leader to all flights, keep it tight, full power! Target one-seven-zero, five five miles!"

"Copy, Red Leader. Gold Group is six up, IP inbound."

Rainbow willed her wings to beat harder and tucked in closer to the other fliers in the formation as the desert rocks whipped past the group. She was off Spitfire's wing, Soarin and Fleetfoot on their commander's other side. Misty and Lightning were behind them, with several fliers from the other squadrons. Surprise took up the rear with Rapidfire's ponies. The Bolts pressed on as they tore up a cloud of dust across the empty flats, racing onward towards their objective.

"Guards, sailors, Wonderbolts, I present General Stalwart Sentry, chairpony of the Joint Operations Command."

"Thank you, Mike." Mike Check stepped aside to allow the general to take the podium. "Fellow warriors, by now you've certainly all heard the rumors. One week ago agents of Her Majesty's Royal Service, though a heart-wrenching tale of courage and hope of which all records are sealed for the next forty years, obtained the location of the Citadel of Queen Chrysalis. Their sacrifice will enable us to put an end to the changeling threat once and for all."

Cheers erupted across the briefing room. The general waited patiently for the commotion to subside, then motioned for silence. He clicked the overhead projector's controls, bringing up a map of the Equestrian Badlands on the screen behind him. "The changeling stronghold is located here, in the southwestern quadrant of the Badlands. This is nearly one hundred miles distant from friendly territory, across open terrain and harsh conditions. These factors all make a ground assault next to impossible, thus we must make our approach by air. The troop carrier dirigible RES Hurricane will depart for Appleoosa, where she will rendezvous with gunboats Osprey and Timberwolf as well as elements of the Wonderbolts First Tactical Wing. This group, which we are calling Task Force Anvil, will then proceed to the border of the Badlands. Make no mistake, the approach to the target area will not be easy. The citadel's primary means of defense is a magic nullifying field that extends to the edge of these salt flats some forty miles distant. This field can strip our airships of their defensive and targeting capabilities, leaving them vulnerable to Changeling fliers and ground batteries."

Murmurs broke out among the various officers in attendance. The skipper of the RES Timberwolf voiced his concern. "Sir, without our magic those bugs'll rip the Timberwolf to shreds before we can ever hope to bring her in range! Even with Spitfire's ponies flying cover a gauntlet like that is suicide!!"

"Patience, please," General Sentry intoned calmly, silencing the hushed whispers echoing across the room. "I have no intention throwing away good ponies' lives. Captain Spitfire, if you would be so kind?"

In front of the group, the shimmering heat radiating off the salt flats slowly parted to reveal a dark spire peeking over the horizon.

"Red Three, tallyho! Visual on tower twelve o'clock!"

"Look at the size of that thing!"

"Cut the chatter, Red Two! Red Leader to DRAGON KILLER, approaching nullification field. All flyers get ready!"

As the ponies crossed an invisible line in the salt flats, they wobbled in midair. Each pegasus felt their flight magic start to drain awa, and adjusted their wings and their harnesses' thrusters to compensate with aerodynamics. Rainbow grunted with the effort. Her helmet emitted a series of dings and several caution messages popped up on her visor.

MK16 MASTER CAUTION
GEN 1 CRYSTAL INOP
GEN 2 CRYSTAL INOP
AIM-9 TRGT INOP
EMER DC BATT

Okay sooo nothing too important, then. Maybe, like, fifteen minutes before the battery's dead? Plenty of time before we're all sitting ducks for the love-sucking murderbugs. Rainbow sighed to herself. She focused on holding her slot off Spitfire's wing. Flying without magic was uncomfortable to say the least. The acceleration from her flight harness's thruster kept her aloft and at speed but felt wrong somehow, like somepony else was pushing her through the sky. She gritted her teeth and tucked in behind her squadron leader as the list of system faults projected on her helmet's visor grew longer and longer.

Ahead of the ponies, something rose up from the desert sands on a pilliar of fire, gaining altitude and turning directly towards the Bolts.
"Red Eight, mud spike two-zero-zero!"

"Keep it steady, ponies! Rapidfire, break formation and suppress!"

"Wilco, Red Leader. Gold Two, Gold Five, on me!"

Rainbow saw Surprise drop out of the formation with Rapidfire and Blaze, peeling off to the right and barreling towards on a cluster of black dots on the ground. Plumes of smoke erupted from both the pegasi and their target as they traded rocket fire. The ponies of Gold Dust Flight wove back and forth as rockets whipped in between them. They increased their fire, quickly overwhelming the missile site on the surface and burying it in orange-gray dust.

"With pleasure, sir." Spitfire took her spot at the podium and cleared her throat. "Good afternoon, everypony. I'm Captain Spitfire of Wonderbolts First Demonstration Squadron. I've been ask to devise a plan that counters the citadel's defenses for the very reasons that Captain Downdraft has pointed out. We've pinpointed the source of the field here, Queen Chrysalis's throne at the top of the main tower." She pointed out the citadel's throne room on the projected image behind her. "Phase one of this operation is an aerial strike to destroy the top floor of that tower and the throne with it. Fliers from the wing will be divided into two strike groups: Red Apple Group will engage the changeling defenders in the air and provide escort and screening for Gold Dust Group, which will be armed with ordnance and bombing wagons for an air-to-surface attack against the tower itself. Once they've neutralized the field the gunboats will move in and begin phase two: heavy bombardment and suppression. The Hurricane will then land here, deploying her marines who will execute phase three with a sweep of the stronghold's remains."

Conversation again broke out amongst the audience. "Ma'am," a guardspony asked, "how can the Wonderbolts fly a mission like that without your magic? Won't you lose it like anypony else as soon as you approach the tower?"

"Bandits! Bandits! Multiple fliers lifting off from the structure, two zero miles and closing fast!"

"I see them! Red Group, break! Break and engage!"

Black dots swarmed out of the tower like wasps defending the hive, racing towards the approaching pegasi. Rainbow banked to follow Spitfire as she pulled away from the formation. Plumes of fire leapt from behind them as they pushed their harnesses into afterburner.

The Wonderbolts scattered as a storm of green bolts flashed by them. Rockets leapt off launch rails, streaking across the sky and exploding into angry gray weals of smoke in between the attackers. The two clouds of fliers merged together, looping and diving in attempts to gain the advantage on one another.

"Red Seven defending!"

"Red Twelve, fox three!"

"Dizz, you got one on your six!"

"I see him, I'll bring him across and you splash him!"

Spitfire threaded her way through the roiling furball, Rainbow sticking to her squadron leader as close as she could. Spitfire pulled into a high gee climb, neatly bringing an enemy flier into her sights. A rocket flew off her hoof gauntlet and closed the distance to the bug in an instant, enveloping it in a cloud of smoke. Without taking even a second to admire her handiwork she rolled herself upside down and arced into a nosedive, lining up another defender. As she bore down on the second unsuspecting flier yet another dark shape swooped in, maneuvering behind her for a clear shot.

"Watch it, Cap! You picked one up!" Rainbow pulled harder into her turn, leading the black-armored flier for a shot with her rockets. Her vision tunneled down to narrow points as she wrenched herself around, laser-focused on the dark blob spitting green bolts ahead of her.

Fwoosh

Her rocket flashed in front of Spitfire's pursuer. It peeled away from Spitfire, abandoning its quarry and turning to flee. Rainbow narrowed her eyes and darted after the escaping flier. "I'm on him, Leader!"

"Red Five, where are you going!? Get back here!!"

"I've almost got him, Cap! Just... one... more... second!" Rainbow ground her teeth as she pulled harder into the turn, bringing him back into her sights. "Red Five, fox two!"

Fwoosh Smoke and fire streaked away from Rainbow's harness. The rocket leapt forward, closing the distance towards the black-armored creature and enveloping it in orange smoke. "Whoohoo! Red Five, splash one bandit!"

*Whoo-EEP* "Target lock!"

"Break, Crash! Break!"

Green light flashed past Rainbow. She snap-rolled into a dive, twirling and dodging as energy blasts danced around her, coming closer and closer to their mark. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the dark shape behind her taking aim...

Fwoosh BOOM until it disappeared into a cloud of dust. "You're clear, Five! Now stay in formation next time!"

"Thanks!" Rainbow replied into her radio as she followed Spitfire back into the furball. She took deep breaths to quell the quaver in her voice. Too close.

Spitfire nodded to the Guard officer. Now for the part she really, really didn't like. "Yes, we will lose both our natural pegasi magic and our flightsuits' crystal power sources as we cross into the nullification field's area of effect, but the strike is possible without those. We've determined that a capable flier using a Mark 16 or Mark 10 pegasuit can stay aloft using their wings for solely aerodynamic lift and their harness's thrusters as propulsion. We'll be at a disadvantage, but it will give us some ability to counter the changelings and destroy the target before our equipment's backup batteries run dry." Spitfire paused for a second to clear her throat. "Nopony is saying this is ideal, but that's why we're the Wonderbolts. We won't let your dragoons down."

The infantrymare nodded, satisfied at Spitfire's answer. As Spitfire abdicated the podium to General Sentry, she caught the eyes of the other Wonderbolt officers in the audience. Fleetfoot and Soarin both nodded in acknowledgement, as did Rapidfire, Wave Chill, and Sun Chaser. They all looked worried at the prospect of attempting what Spitfire and the general had proposed. No magic meant klutzy flying, no guidance for their weapons, and a ticking clock until they dropped from the sky, one by one, where they'd be helpless against a swarm of hungry changelings.

Privately, Spitfire couldn't help but agree with them. Her idea was the best anypony had came up with, but that hardly made it a good one. No matter which way one looked at it, ponykind's triumph over the changelings would come with a heavy price.

"Path to the target is clear!" Rapidfire crowed. "Gold Group, form up on me for attack run!"

"Roger that, Gold Leader! You heard the colt, Red Apples! Cover them!"

Rapidfire pushed forward as fast as he could, skimming the surface towards the craggy spire of the citadel. Surprise, Blaze, Wave Chill and the others followed his lead, flying as low and fast as they could under the fearsome battle raging above the tower.

"Watch the crossfire, Three!"

"This is Four, I'm getting some shimmy in my wing bracers!"

"Four, if you can't make the run then disengage!"

"Negative, negative! She'll hold!"

"Wheeeeee! Guys, we should do this every weekend!!"

Gold Dust reached the base of the tower, pulling up at the last minute to skim the gnarled walls of the citadel towards its peak. Green fire spat at them from craggy spires. Black-armored flyers dove at them from above, but the ponies of Red Apple Flight intercepted them before they could reach the bomber Bolts.

"Stay on target!"

"Lead, we're too fast! We can't hit it at this speed!"

"Stay on target!"

"Bandits, six o'clock high!"

"DROP!" Bombs rolled off Rapidfire's harness, freeing a great weight from his barrel. He and the rest of Gold Group blew past the tower's spire, peeling away into the open sky.

Fire blossomed from the top of the citadel, shrouding it in smoke and flame.

"Shack! Direct hit on target!"

"Wait, where's our magic then?"

"Standby for damage assessment!"

As the dust cleared, the Wonderbolts got a good look at the citadel. The top floor of the structure had been shattered by Gold Dust's attack. Soarin and Fleetfoot zoomed in for a closer look, dodging green bolts of magic all the way.

"Negative, dudes! The big chair thingy is still there! Repeat, the big chair thingy is still there!"

"Copy! Golds, form back up for another run!"

"New contacts, three bandits bearing zero two zero!"

Three dark silhouettes swooped in on Gold Dust Flight from above. The Golds scattered in an attempt to flee the newcomers but to no avail. One by one they were struck down by green bolts as they tried to flee.

"Mayday! Mayday! Gold Three going down!"

"Two, punch out!"

"I'm hit! I'm hit!"

"Wheeeeeee I wanna go againnnn!!"

Spitfire stared as Gold Dust Flight fell. The new attackers rounded on the remaining Wonderbolts as they prepared for another pass. The flyer in the center wore more ornate armor than the others, with lime green trim and a small crown atop its head. "It's her..."

"C'mon, Cap! It's over! We gotta leave, now!" Misty Fly yelled at Spitfire. They'd taken their shot and failed. Everypony was flying with their wings tied behind their back, so to speak, and they'd lost the element of surprise. Also the actual Surprise, from the sound of it.

"Is anypony armed?" Spitfire asked in a daze. A chorus of no's sounded over the airwaves. All of the Bolts had spent their rockets in the fierce battle.

All except one. "I've still got one, Cap." Rainbow replied. Not that one rocket mattered against the horde of changelings now buzzing from the hive.

"Roger. Here's what we do: Crash, you hit that hole in the tower, smash the throne." She paused. "The rest of us, we cover you."

"What?? But you said--"

"I know what I said, Red Five! Now do it!"

Rainbow growled in frustration and dove towards the citadel, juking in between black clad defenders. She felt the pressure in front of her build as she gained speed. Almost there...

"Incoming! Queen bee at mark point seven!" Lightning Streak called out.

"I've got her! I've got her!" That was Soarin. "...I don't got her!"

*Whoo-EEP* "Target lock!" Dash gritted her teeth and shut out her harness's warnings. She squinted at the smoking crater in the top of the tower, searching desperately for her target. Rubble lay scattered amid the now-open throne room, crowding her view until... there!

She fired.

The rocket streaked towards a plywood cutout with a picture of a spiky obsidian throne taped to the front. The missile impacted the light wood, splintering it into a thousand pieces.

Rainbow narrowly missed the top of the tower, her high-speed dive sending her straight to the ground. She pulled up as hard as she could, shallowing out her descent into a beeline across the desert.

*WHUMPF*

Almost shallowing out her descent into a beeline across the desert.

Rainbow opened her eyes. The radio blared nonsense in her ears. Her vision swam, smoke trails and streaks of green danced across the sky above her. She pulled off her helmet and tossed it to the ground, then yanked on her Mk16's release handle. The broken pegasuit clattered off her haunches. She dizzily began to climb out of the crater her landing had formed when a dark shape swooped over her.

A black-armored equine haughtily strode over to her, the green trim of her armor glowing malevolently. Rainbow flared her wings and growled, merely eliciting a chuckle from the enemy leader. The horn protruding from its helmet glowed with a harsh light as it charged. Rainbow gulped.

"Goodbye, little pegasus."

Blat.

"Thank you, Captain Spitfire." General Sentry said as he stepped back up to the podium. "All units under the Task Force Anvil umbrella be conducting maneuver exercises at Neighvada Test Site in the coming weeks. Wonderbolts Tactical Wing, you will report to Tonopony Test Range with full combat equipment and chalk-marker ordnance. The red force for this op will be compromised of volunteers from the Night Guard; their gear will be modified to emulate changeling combat capability. The Corps of Engineers has also rigged up a jammer to mimic the citadel's nullification field. This is your chance to fine-tune your plan, ponies, and I implore you to use it to the full extent. Princess Celestia did not come by this decision lightly. If she says coexistence between ponies and changelings is impossible, then know that she has exhausted every other course of action. We are the ponies to carry out those orders... that being said, I'd like to see you all again in this briefing room after this battle is over. So run your drills, get your ponies' shit locked down, and get it done. I'll see you aboard the Hurricane. Dismissed!"

Rainbow jerked as the magic paint pellet struck her in the face. She grimaced and tried to wipe the goop clean with a wing as 'Queen Chrysalis' crowed with pride.

"I woooon! I wooooon! Take that, Spitfire!" She danced happily, removing the helmet of her black 'changeling' styled armor and revealing her bright pink mane and eyes, tufted ears, and stubby fangs. "Eve rules, Wonderbolts drool!"

"You sure about that!?" Rainbow challenged the Night Guard officer.

"You're the one with the Smooze facial, you tell me!" Eve chuckled.

"No. Also, ew." Rainbow gagged. "I mean, take a look at the throne!"

"Huh?"

"All squadrons, terminate exercise!" Orders blared over the military test range's loudspeakers. The Wonderbolts and 'changelings' still in the air suddenly stopped their aggressive maneuvers and started to fly away from the mock-up of the Changeling hive, towards the observation stands where their 'dead' comrades waited.

The Bolts of First Demo fluttered down to where Rainbow stood. "Hey Dash, nice shot!" Soarin chirped. "You okay? That was some crash landing!" He was covered in green paint, as was the rest of the squadron. More 'changelings' joined them, removing their helmets and gauntlets to reveal themselves as members of the Night Guard's Aggressor Squadron. Several of them were marked with chalk dust from the Bolts' dummy rockets, though fewer of them than the victorious heroes had been tagged.

"I'm fine, guys! I'm fine!"

Fleetfoot nudged Soarin. "C'mon, you know Crash. That skull of hers has taken worse. Besides, wouldn't be her if she didn't show us all up, would it?"

"Poo," Eve pouted. "I thought for sure I had you jerks!"

"Sorry to disappoint, ma'am," Fleetfoot offered the Night Guard captain a salute. "But First Demo's got a thing for thrilling heroics. Better luck next time."

Captain Evening Mist let out a frustrated sigh and trotted off to join her fellow batponies. Lighting called after her, chuckling. "You can square your debt up anytime! Come talk to me about a payment plan!"

The squadron guffawed at that, their leader stepping forward to chide their lack of discipline. "Yeah, yeah, alright, you've had your fun, ponies. Lightning, try not to take her for everything she's worth. I have to work with her, you know." Spitfire glanced around at her ponies. All of them bar Misty had been marked with green paint. She hesitated, feeling something catch in her throat. Soarin and Fleetfoot both met her gaze with serious expressions, giving quick, solemn nods to their captain before putting smiles back on their faces and rejoining the squadron laughter. Spitfire shook off the feeling in her gut and leapt into the air, free of the constraints of the magic-sapping field the Guard had placed in the desert for this test. "C'mon everypony, follow me!"

"Where?" Rainbow asked. Before Spitfire could reply, the loudspeaker blared again.

"This concludes Anvil Phase One exercise. All ponies, clear the Citadel area for Phase Two. RES Osprey, RES Timberwolf will begin aerial gunnery drills in T minus one five minutes."

"To watch the fireworks!"

* * * * *

One Week Later...

"CANCELLED!? WHAT DO YOU MEAN, CANCELLED??" Spitfire roared at the pony quavering in front of her desk. Radar squacked in his cage, his owner's sudden outburst startling him. Spitfire struggled to contain her rage. Sure the Wonderbolts normally played it fast and loose with the military's 'don't shoot the messenger' policy, but bending such a rule was still considered a major faux pas for a squadron leader.

"J-just what I said, ma'am!" The terrified airpony sputtered. "Priority one message from General Sentry's office! All Task Force Anvil members are to stand down immediately!" He flailed the paper in front of him. Spitfire snatched it and began to read.

"This doesn't make sense! Why would he..." Spitfire spotted the royal seal at the bottom of the document. "This originated with the Princess?"

"Yes, ma'am! Straight from the top!" The poor sap cried, praying that this could help direct the captain's wrath elsewhere.

"Hmm... Okay, okay, you can breathe now. You're dismissed, get lost already!" The airpony dashed out of her office with a shot, slamming the door behind him. "CLIP! Get in here!"

"What's up, boss--" *CLONK* "Ow!" The door clicked open and Soarin trotted in. "What's up, boss?"

"Muster the wing. I've got some, uh, news. Anvil is cancelled on Princess Celestia's orders."

"Huh." Soarin mulled it over. "Not gonna lie, I'm a little relieved. The squadron will be disappointed, though. They did good against Eve's girls that last matchup, they're all raring to go kick some bugflank. Why'd the Princess get cold hooves?"

"I don't friggin know. The general's dispatch just said an immediate stand-down, no details provided. Is everypony present today?"

"Uh, Rainbow left base last night, something about seeing her friend off for a trip home. You know, that pony that helped us with that little time paradox mixup. What's her name, Stardust?"

"Starlight. Starlight Glimmer."

"Right. Seafood Dinner. Crash is overdue for a check-in but that's not that, y'know, unusual for her." Soarin quickly mimed resting his head on a pillow and let out a few loud snores.

"Don't worry about Crash for now. Gather everypony else, and get ready for some disappointment..."

Author's Note

This chapter takes place in the weeks and days preceding "To Where and Back Again."

Brought to you by watching the Battle of Scarif scenes in Rogue One far too many times.

The Other Ponies

"Captain Spitfire?" General Stalwart Sentry spoke suddenly as he gazed out over the Canterlot sunset, as if he had been lost in thought and only suddenly realized the Wonderbolt's presence next to him.

"Yessir?" Spitfire snapped out of her own quiet contemplation and straightened up as she answered.

"You were present at my speech last month, correct? The one I gave to the ponies of Prism Plateau right after the changeling infiltration?"

"I was, sir." Spitfire replied, unsure of where the general was going with this.

"Tell me, what did you think of it?"

"I felt it was an appropriate call to action for a Guard that's become too comfortable in a peacetime role. Those ugly bugs infiltrated our home and kidnapped the Princesses we've sworn to protect right out from under our muzzles. It's our responsibility to protect the crown and the ponies under its rule, and let's face facts here, we failed miserably." Spitfire replied. "If you're concerned about how the ponies took it, sir, I think it had the desired effect on morale. You didn't blame them, instead you took full responsibility and challenged all of us to do better. They saw you as a leader and a comrade, sir, not a disciplinarian." Spitfire recalled the general's words to the assembled ponies of Equestria's largest military base. "I especially liked the part at the end, that last bit. 'As long as a single guardspony still draws breath, foreign tyrants would never again lay hoof on Equestrian soil!' Very inspiring! Lit a fire under their flanks for sure, sir."

"Thank you, Spitfire."

"I call 'em like I see 'em, sir."

The two settled back on their haunches, taking in the view of Canterlot beyond the obsidian bars of their cell. The Storm King's minions shuffled back and forth across the square, rounding up ponies at spearpoint and herding them into cages. More burly apes stood watch over those captured. Spitfire and her officers were in town to perform a flyover of the city's inaugural Friendship Festival, and most of the EUP Command and Ministry of Defense staff had taken a half day to join the festivities and see Songbird Serenade. It was General Sentry's way of thanking them for all their hard work since Queen Chrysalis's latest invasion; two of the Navy's three flyer carrier groups were fully mobilized, supporting the Guard legions scouring the badlands for Queen Chrysalis. The Hearts and Hooves and her escorts were set to join in a week's time once she'd finished her shakedown cruise, an unprecedented mobilization of Equestria's armed forces and proof that the ponies of the EUP were determined not to be caught flat-hoofed again.

An unprecedented effort which proved to be entirely pointless when the Eye of the Storm sailed straight across the nation from a different direction and parked directly on top of the now-defenseless cliffside city. Smoke plumes rose from several fires burning near where Tempest Shadow's war dirigible had quite literally crashed the party.

Spitfire regarded the chaos with an air of futility about her. After a moment, she withdrew a flask from beneath her wing, unscrewed the top, and took a long pull.

The general spoke up again. "That being said, this really isn't what I had in mind."

"Didn't think it was, sir." Spitfire offered Sentry her flask. The general hoofed the dented metal container and cautiously raised it to his mouth.

Spitfire barely hid a smile as he gagged and sputtered, nearly spitting out the potent spirits. "W-what is this? Rocket fuel??"

"Close to it, sir, chemically speaking. It's Wild Pegasus whiskey. Good stuff, the distillery is owned by the same ponies who make the cleaning solvents for our weapons."

"That is not encouraging." General Sentry took another long, slow draw, keeping the drink down albiet with a pained expression. Finished, he hoofed the flask back to Spitfire.

"Thank you, sir." Spitfire stole one last sip for herself before tucking it away. She glanced around the cage furtively, making sure that no storm creatures were within earshot. "Any chance of the fleet returning to rescue us?"

"It's always possible," General Sentry replied. "My staff sent out a distress call before we were captured. Summer Sun and Longest Night's battlegroups are over a week's flight from Canterlot, but if Admiral Cut got our message she could be here with the Hearts and Hooves within the day. Radiant Cut is a tactical genius, best the Crystal Empire has to offer. Besides, don't you have ponies aboard her ship?"

"I do..." Spitfire hesitated. "I only brought the PR big names for this show, the rest of the squadron is training the latest crop of cadets on shipboard ops."

"Wonderful news!" Sentry exclaimed. "With Equestria's greatest flyers at her command and the element of surprise, Admiral Cut should be more than a match for the Storm King's army! We'll be free before you know it!" He paused momentarily. "Unless I completely missed something..."

Earlier, aboard the RCES Hearts and Hooves...

"Action stations! Action stations!" The shipwide PA blared loudly enough to be heard over the incessant bark of klaxon alarms. "Set condition one throughout the ship!"

On the bridge, chaos reigned as crystal ponies scrambled from station to station, trying desperately to stay on top of the crisis while at the same time pulling parachutes from the lockers and suiting up for the worst. Admiral Radiant Cut stood in front of the skipper's chair and glared at the source of her problems, her rage only outdone by her incredulity that such insanity was even physically possible.

"What!?" Surprise fidgeted nervously across from the livid admiral. It wasn't her fault! "How was I supposed to KNOW that partytechnics weren't allowed on board? There should've been a sign!"

"Fire suppression teams to Reactor Two!"

The admiral glared wordlessly.

"Fiiiine, I'll go help clean up!" Surprise sighed. The injustice that party ponies had to face in this world sometimes!

Behind her, Misty Fly quietly passed a small bag of bits to her brother. She rolled her eyes in disgust as Lightning happily counted the coins. Panicked bridge crew shouted out reports from the damage control teams, adding to the confusing din. All the while, a teletype in the corner of the bridge churned out a high-priority message from Canterlot, going completely unnoticed amid the pandemonium.

"...or maaaybe we shouldn't sit around on our plots hoping for outside intervention," Spitfire suggested.

“Yes, perhaps not.” The two stared at the sky, where the sun and moon danced and twirled erratically, rising and setting over and over. “I hate when they do that.”

"Hey, where's everypony going?"

They both looked around. The Storm King's guards had abandoned their post and were bolting toward some sort of commotion in the direction of the city gates. Spitfire turned to General Sentry and shrugged.

"Psst! Cap! Over here!"

The two pegasi both turned towards the whisper coming from a nearby shrub. They both jumped in surprise as three heads suddenly poked out of the bush. Seeing the coast was clear, Soarin, Fleetfoot, and a Royal Guard officer Spitfire recognized as Captain Red Shirt clambered out of their hiding spot.

"It's us, Cap!" Soarin cried happily. "Don't worry Your Generalness, we'll have you outta there in a split second! Rojo-bro, do your thing!"

"Roger that, S-dog!" Red Shirt leapt forward and spun around, stretching out his hindlegs. "Sir, ma'am, you might want to take a step back!"

"No, wait!" Spitfire cried as the earth pony reared back for a thunderous double-buck. "Don't--"

*CLANGGGGGGGGGGG*

The sound of hooves hitting bars and bouncing off reverberated through their skulls. Spitfire cringed as the general looked on, astounded.

Red Shirt's eyes crossed. "Ow, bro," he muttered weakly as he swayed on the spot. "My glutes..."

He toppled over, unconscious. Soarin cried out and rushed to his side.

"No! Stay with me, dude!"

"He'll be fine, you dummy," Fleetfoot rolled her eyes. "What I'm sure Cap was trying to say, if you two would've listened, is that obsidian blocks all magic, INCLUDING EARTH PONY MAGIC!"

"That was unfortunate," General Sentry paused. "Though somehow not entirely unexpected. Now how do we get out of here?"

"I could try this," Fleetfoot dangled a large black key from her pinion feather. "It's how we got out. Had I known these two were going to do something so stupid, I would've reminded them." She reconsidered her statement for a moment. "Actually, no, I wouldn't have. Totally worth it." She gingerly stepped over a groaning Red Shirt and unlocked her captain's cage.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Stalwart said gratefully as he and Spitfire exited their prison. "You've done the uniform proud. How did you ever get a key from our captors?"

Fleetfoot grinned evilly. "Trust me, sir, I have my ways..."

Spitfire snorted. "Seduced a storm guard?"

"Totally nailed a storm guard." Her grin widened, making her resemble a Cheshire cat. "One more species to cross off the list!"

"Oh! I see, um, well..." Sentry stammered, "...good work thinking outside the box, trooper. Hurry! I don't know where our captors have gone, but we have a window of opportunity we can't afford to waste! Everypony, to the castle armory!" He spread his wings and took off down the boulevard towards Canterlot Castle. The Wonderbolts followed closely behind, while Red Shirt wisely elected he would be of best service to the uprising from his current position, curled up into a ball on the cobblestone street.

Meanwhile...

Storm guards scattered like bowling pins just inside the Canterlot city gates as the street exploded into an whirlwind of violence and cake frosting. Swashbuckling harpies, pastel ponies, and a lanky cat creature leapt upon their foes, driving back the burly brutes as a bubbly hippogriff pecked at them from above. The Storm King's soldiers fell back, overwhelmed, leaving the ponies a window to bolt for the castle.

Except for one. Fluttershy sat next to a bawling storm creature, patting the blubbering gorilla on the back as it growled out its story between sobs.

"It's okay," she reassured the monster. "Just because she doesn't want to see you again doesn't make you any less of a pony! Er, big scary monster person! There there, let it all out!"

"FLUTTERSHY!"

"Ooh! Sorry, our time is up!" Fluttershy leapt after her friends. "Bye-bye!"

As wind and lightning howled outside of Canterlot Castle, General Sentry and Spitfire gathered the dozen ponies they'd managed to rescue in the main entrance hall. Most were Guards stationed at the castle or on Princess Cadance's traveling detail, including one Spitfire had thought looked suspiciously like a younger version of her cellmate.

"Flash?" The general exclaimed in shock

"Dad!?” Flash Sentry dropped the hoofful of armor and spears he'd liberated from the armory.

“What... what are you doing here? I thought you’d been assigned to the Crystal Empire?”

“I’m, uh, I’m on Princess Cadance’s security detail. We were in town for the festival.”

“Oh... congratulations! That’s quite the posting, son. How’s it going?”

“Well, that Tempest Shadow unicorn turned her into stone, sooo...”

“Oh, yes, yes of course...”

“Uh, Dad?” Flash nervously ran a hoof through his helmet plume. “Maybe we could play catch-up later? There’s an insurgency to insurgencize or whatever.”

"Oh, right! Ahem," Stalwart reluctantly turned to address the group. "That should be enough arms and armor for everypony. Now, we have surprise and momentum on our side, but make no mistake, these storm creatures are stronger than any foe we've ever faced before. Our only hope is to..." he trailed off as he looked up to the landing above them. Everypony turned to follow his line of sight, and as they did, one by one, their mouths dropped.

Soarin stood upon the landing, bedecked entirely in black feaux leather and metal studs from head to tail. There were holes for his eyes and wings, as well as in other strategic locations. A leash trailed from a collar around his neck, the other end tuck neatly under Fleetfoot's wing. She wore black lace and a highly suggestive saddle and held a dark whip under her other wing.

"Mmf Mmph!" Soarin cried out.

Nopony moved. They couldn't. All they could do was stare.

Soarin reached up to his black mask and undid the zipper over his muzzle. "There, much better! You guys would not believe all the cool combat gear Princess Cadance has in her guest room!"

General Sentry stole a glance at Flash.

"Don't look at me," Flash hissed back at his father. "There's a good reason I stand post outside her chambers..."

"Uh, Clip?" Spitfire queried, unsure exactly what she was seeing. "You know that's not combat gear, right?"

"Sorry Cap, he got so excited and I didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise," Fleetfoot chuckled. "The Princess must've had one awesome night planned with her husband."

"Shining Armor?" General Sentry snapped out of it. "Did you find him? We need all the fighters we can get!"

Spitfire shook her head. "He's out on maneuvers. Was supposed to return tonight, but with the way things are going..."

Back aboard the Hearts and Hooves...

Among the deafening din of far too many types of alarms to count, if a pony strained their ears, they could just barely make out a curious noise from behind the #2 Thaumic Reactor Access Hatch...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

A curious noise that, if one thought about it, sounded a lot like a little filly screaming...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

The hatch burst open with a billow of smoke as a blue and white blur of a stallion with flames licking from his mane galloped full tilt down the corridor.

"I said I was sorry!" the voice of a pouting party pegasus echoed down the corridor after him.

Prince-Captain Shining Armor bolted down the airship's central corridor until he'd reached the hangar bay, where Misty Fly and Lightning Streak were waiting with an emergency raincloud. They hopped up and down, dousing the smoldering prince with sheets of rainwater. Shining, mane charred short and pristine white fur soot-grey, staggered against the flyer launch bay's railing.

"Curse you, airships!" He shook a hoof at the heavens. "Why must you be so alluring yet so miserable!?"

"You're all right, sir," Misty Fly flapped down to the distraught officer and patted him on the haunches with a hoof. "We got to you in time, everything's going to be--"

*hurk*

"--okay." Misty finished lamely as Shining expelled his lunch over the railing and into the sky below. He collapsed onto the airship's corrugated metal deck.

"Ahem," Lightning coughed as he touched down behind the two.

Misty sighed and discreetly hoofed him another bag of bits.

"Right," the senior Sentry moved on, shedding his officer's dress coat for a set of Royal Guard armor. "We cannot afford to wait any longer, ponies. The storm is getting worse, and our time is now. Strike hard, strike true, and use our momentum to your advantage! These brutes are strong but they cannot match us for speed or agility, so let's show them what the Guard is made of! Fratres in Aeternum!"

"Fratres in Aeternum!" The gathered ponies bellowed the EUP battle cry. General Sentry flicked his helmet's visor down, bucked open the castle doors, and burst onto the landing. "CHAAAAARGE!"

"CHAAARGE!" The guards and Wonderbolts galloped after him, only to find he'd stopped just outside.

The raging cyclone that had enveloped Canterlot only minutes earlier had dissipated. Sunlight streamed down onto the courtyard without a cloud in the sky to blot it out. Spitfire cautiously approached the general looked around in confusion.

"Sir? What's going on--SIR! LOOK OUT!"

Spitfire's Wonderbolt search-and-rescue instincts took over as she leapt into the air, hitting the general with a flying tackle. As soon as she had him in hoof, she reversed, zooming back to the top of the landing's staircase in the blink of an eye.

"Wha?" The disoriented chief of staff barely had time to splutter before a two-ton hunk of obsidian fell from the sky and shattered into a million pieces in the square in front of them.

"What was that?" One of the group, a guardspony named Spear Carrier, inquired.

"That..." Spitfire trotted forward towards an oblong hunk of stone, spinning it around with a hoof, "appears to be the Storm King."

The ponies goggled at the obsidian head of the evil king, his face forever locked in a shocked snarl. All around them, freed ponies peeked out of hiding spots surrounding the square. The Storm King's guards, shaken by the cyclone that nearly swept them all away, slowly rose to their feet and threw their arms down in surrender.

"Whelp," Fleetfoot dusted bits of stone off her haunches. "That was easy. Bag 'em and tag 'em, ponies! Medals all around!"

"That wasn't us," Spitfire's eyes narrowed as she looked to the balcony above them. "Look!"

A burst of brilliant gold magic erupted from the balcony and scattered over Canterlot. Hues of gold, teal, purple and pink swirled through the air around them. The military ponies watched, dumbstruck, as the castle's collapsed roof began to repair itself.

A mote danced past Spitfire, who brushed it with a wing. "We've all felt magic like this before. This feels like..."

"Oh, no." General Sentry muttered.

"...like forgiveness. And friendship."

"Not again! Dammit dammit dammit!" Stalwart stamped a hoof on the cobblestone in frustration. Noticing the shocked looks from his comrades, he sighed. "It's them again. We can all kiss our budget goodbye for the next fiscal year."

A dozen ponies' ears wilted in disappointment. Flash was first to speak as he trotted up to his dad.

"Well... at least we're all okay, and Canterlot is safe. That's the important thing... right, Dad?"

"Sorry, son," Stalwart shook his head slowly, "I admire your optimism, but you just don't get it, do you?"

"Fillies and gentlecolts!" Spike the Dragon's voice boomed across the gathered crowd. "Get ready for a little SONGBIRD SERENADE!"

Throngs of ponies cheered as the performer trotted onto the stage. "And now to celebrate that we're all still here and in one piece, give it up for Princess Twilight and her friends!"

Cheers and thunderous hoofstomps gave way to a slow piano motif as Songbird began her show.

"I know you, you're a spe-cial one,

Some see crazy where I see lo-ove.

You fall so low but sooar so high,

Big dream-er shoot for open sky..."

Spitfire pushed her way back through the crowd until she spotted a downcast General Sentry. Muscling her way over, she offered him her recently refilled flask. "Here sir, you look like you could use a pick-me-up."

Stalwart took the offer without hesitation and gulped back what the Ministry of Food and Drugs had only qualified as 'fine spirits' after a lengthy court battle. "You know, when I was your age, I used to look at EUP high command and wonder how Equestria's best and brightest could allow such insanity to run rampant. Here we were, training every day to protect the throne, and every time evil reared it’s ugly head the idiots in charge just let it run roughshod over Equestria. I made a promise to myself that one day I would change things for the better. That we would march out to the bad guys’ lairs and buck them square in the muzzle, then stop on the way home to rescue fillies’ kittens from trees.”

Spitfire smiled wearily as she snagged her drink back with a wing. “And how’s that working out, sir?”

“You tell me. The EUP is embarrassed on a national level. Upstaged by amateur group therapists, again.” Stalwart sighed. “You wouldn’t understand. You and your flyers, you actually get to go out and do the job you trained for. The further you climb the ladder, well, you can push and push and work yourself to the bone only to see everything you built crumble to pieces for no reason.” He laughed bitterly. “Or maybe the reason is the universe’s cruel sense of humor.”

“Oh, so you want to be a hero, sir? Is that it?” Spitfire cocked an eyebrow.

“Me? Hah. I’m too old for such foolish antics.” Spitfire gave the general a Look to remind him of his earlier antics. “That? I was just doing what needed to be done. No, it’s my ponies. The Guard, the Navy, the rest of the Bolts, they deserve better. The chance to show the ponies of Equestria that there’s more defending this nation than six mares with an incredible lucky streak.”

“Psh,” Spitfire waved a hoof. The liquor was making her chatty. “So Princess Twilight got to save the day and be a Big Damn Hero again. You and I both know that glory shit doesn’t matter! Hay, the country calls First Demo heroes and we’re glorified stunt ponies, for Faustsakes! The only thing a hero actually does is not turn tail and run away, the rest is all timing and luck.” She spotted Flash in the crowd, standing at attention by Princess Cadance’s side. His head swayed ever so slightly with the music. “All your son did today was dodge a few enemy patrols and steal some spears. You think he’s not a hero?”

“Of course not!”

“See? Sheeeit, everypony with us today was as much of a hero as the Princess, as far as I’m concerned, even *hic* Fleetfoot. Don’t tell her I said that, though.”

Stalwart chuckled. “Your secret’s safe with me, Spitfire.”

“It’s Drunk!Spitfire, sir. Regular Spitfire would never be dumb enough to give a dress-down to a four star.”

“Agreed. I’ll leave it off your mutual record, to save her the embarrassment.”

“Much obliged.” Spitfire tipped her flask. “Sucks about the budget though.”

Stalwart let out a harsh barking laugh. “I didn’t survive ten years in Canterlot’s political circles without picking up a few tricks, Captain. We may have to tighten our saddles, but the nobles won’t gut the budget of the ponies who guard their houses while they sleep. Not after a polite reminder, anyhow.”

“If we need to chop some stuff, you could probably push the Mark Thirty-Five back another year. I know some ponies who wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

Spitfire looked out over the throngs of celebrating ponies, harpies, hippogriffs, and the Storm King’s former minions. She even spied Tempest Shadow lurking near the back of the crowd. “Soo... no arrest, then?”

Stalwart shook his head. “Full pardon from the Princess of Friendship. I’d say I’m surprised, but...” he gestured towards a mismatched draqonequus dancing with Princesses Celestia and Luna.

Spitfire nodded, glancing over towards a cake-shaped pyrotechnics stand where another purple unicorn who’d first threatened and then saved Equestria happily set up fireworks with her friend. As sappy as Princess Twilight’s ways seemed to Spitfire, there were apparently methods to the monarch’s madness. “Fair enough.”

The music shifted, the beat speeding up to a faster tempo. Other performers joined Songbird and her backup dancers onstage, shifting from her soulful tune to something more upbeat. The crowd began to sway to the catchy tune, and soon ponies everywhere were dancing happily, without a care in the world.

A group of sailors and Wonderbolts from the recently arrived Hearts and Hooves reached the edge of the crowd, along with a frazzled Shining Armor. Princess Cadance nearly bowled over a dozen onlookers in her rush to jump onto her husband and envelop him in a bone-crunching wing hug. Admiral Cut, her pale violet head wrapped in bandages, started herding ponies back to a minimum safe distance as the Princess of Love peppered her paramour with passionate pecks.

Stalwart snickered at the scene. “I think... I think I should go and talk to my son.”

“Your words, not mine. I’ll go with, though. You know how it is, ponies to see and hooves to bump. The toils of a celebrity superstar stuntmare never end.”

“Whatever you say, hero.” The general snorted. “Come, let’s go see our friends.”

“So we wanna stay,

But can't find peace while sitting still...

I guess we never will!”

“So ze damage was mostly cosmetic and uzzer zhan myself and Prinz Armor, ve suztained no injuries.” Radiant Cut reported to Stalwart. “Zome sort of ordnance mizhap, I’m told; ze concussion makes my memory of ze event razzer fuzzy.”

Surprise shook her head and made frantic ‘keep it quiet’ gestures from behind the admiral’s back. Spitfire gave her party pegasus a quizzical gesture. She’d have to get the full story from somepony later. Most likely after a thorough interrogation.

“I’m glad your ponies are well, Radiant.” The general returned her salute. “If you’ll excuse me...”

He turned to Flash. “Son.”

“Dad.”

“...Have a minute for an old fool?”

“Of course!” Flash smiled uncertainly. “One sec. Your Majesty? Can I, uh... ow wow.”

Cadance gave no sign she’d heard as she continued to roll around on the street with her husband, latched onto him tightly. After a moment, a wing shooed away the two soldiers.

“By your leave, your Majesty.” The elder Sentry smirked as the two trotted off. “Come, I’ll buy you some cotton candy.”

“Dad? I’m twenty-five.”

“Never too old for a father to embarrass his boy. So, you must tell me all about the Crystal Empire! I’ve heard you’ve had your own share of disasters up there?”

“Oh, we have! And don’t get me started on Flurry Heart...”

"I love this very moment,

We're speeding up not slowing!

We might know we can't win

But we're dumb enough to try!"

Spitfire greeted Misty Fly and Lightning Streak warmly. She'd always found the sibling stunt team to be the best-- well, the least headache-inducing members of her squadron, anyhow. Salutes were exchanged, hoofbumps were given, and the three took a moment to watch the Princess hoist a still-slightly charred Shining Armor over her flanks and march off towards the castle. Spitfire caught the prince's eye for a moment and the two shared a curt nod as Shining's wife carried him away to what Spitfire assumed could only be a medical check-up.

"So..." Spitfire began. "Do I even want to know the story with the shakedown run?"

"Not really," Misty admitted. "Honestly, I'm still in shock that nopony's getting court-martialed."

"A-hem." Lightning coughed theatrically.

"Right." Misty grunted. She fished in a saddlebag for a moment before pulling out yet another bag of bits. "Here you go, you parasite. I should've smothered you with a pillow when I had the chance."

"Love you too, sis."

"Didn't you leave Prism Plateau with a troop of Academy cadets?"

"I did," Misty grinned. "After we got the news, I figured we'd be stuck in Canterlot for a while so I made them fly back to Prism Plateau to pick up Radar for you. Told them if they didn't make it here in time to see the show, it was their own fault for flying too slowly."

"You are an evil genius, Misty."

"Maybe. Don't tell Fleetfoot though, I don't want her to get jealous." Misty looked around. "Speaking of, where are the el-tees?"

"Oh, almost forgot! They're dancing over this way, c'mon, you will not believe what they're wearing!"

"We're going, there's no maybe,

that's why they call us crazy,

and we'll say if any-body asks us"

"We-we, ah..." the cadet wheezed. She was the last of the Academy class still on her hooves, the others had collapsed from sheer exhaustion shortly after arrival. "We got your bird, ma'am. As ordered."

The pony's eyes rolled up in her head and she fell over, out cold after her marathon flight from the airship to Prism Pateau then to Canterlot. The peregrine falcon on her back squawked and leapt into the air as his perch fell out from under him.

"Radar!" Spitfire nuzzled her pet as Radar flapped over to his favorite spot on her head. "You came to see mommy! Good boy!" After cooing at her precious bird, she looked back down at the prone pony who'd delivered him, a green mare with a distinct gold mane and an obvious fake mustache. "Wait a second, isn't that Lightning Dust?"

"Yeahhh, she rejoined the Academy under an alias. Goes by 'Thunder Dust' now. I, uh, I guess nopony told her that we give washouts a chance to recycle and that cloak-and-dagger crap wasn't necessary."

"And you've been playing dumb the whole time?" Spitfire inquired curiously.

Misty shrugged. "Her scores are up, she's been much more of a team player than last time, and she's working harder than ever. Sure, she could be plotting something but if this," she yanked the 'disguise' off Lightning Dust's face, "is her idea of 'subtle' then I don't think she's anything we need to be concerned about."

"Evil. Genius." Spitfire whispered.

"Baah! You think that's genius?" Fleetfoot staggered over to the group from her and Soarin's dance circle, cider in wing and whip trailing behind her. "Who schaved Cap and the general! Me! Fleetfoot, the greatest Wonderbolt who ever lived! WOOOOO!"

"Heh. You did good today, Flatfoot. Just have to get a costume change in once every crisis, huh?"

"Damn right! Besht watch yerself, skipper, cause I'm gunnin' for ya!" Fleetfoot laughed, stumbled, and nearly spilled her drink before recovering and wandering back over to where Soarin danced, still bedecked in his 'combat' gear. None of the adoring fans surrounding the two flyers had anything to say about their choice of attire, or perhaps they were just enjoying the view. "Yeah! Woo! C'mon Clip, let's show these posers how it's done!"

"Speaking of ponies to keep an eye on..." Misty cocked an eyebrow.

"Her? Nah. She talks a big game, but she'd never do anything."

"You positive? She's backstabbed ponies for less, and I don't mean that figuratively."

"Think about it," Spitfire smirked. "She wants to be number one. Right now, she's number three. While I don't doubt she'd get rid of me if she saw the chance, where would that leave her?"

Spitfire's words clicked in Misty's brain as she stared at the two officers spin each other around on the dance floor. Soarin's leash and Fleetfoot's bullwhip soon became tangled, causing them to trip over each other and collapse in a pile of laughter. "Number two. Working for..."

"Her only friend in the world. The one pony she could never seriously betray."

"Huh. Imagine that."

"And you said Officer Candidate School was a waste of time."

"I'm beginning to think that I'm not the only evil genius in the squadron." Misty nodded to her captain. "If you'll excuse me, ma'am, I have a drink to refill and some cadets who may or may not need medical attention."

"Dismissed, Misty. Have fun."

"Always do, Cap."

“Hey! where you gonna go?

We're off to see the world

We don't need to know, oh!“

Spitfire tentatively let herself relax a little more. Despite the enslavement and near-destruction of Equestria earlier in the day, everything seemed to be falling into place. Her squadron was all present and accounted for, with no injuries or outstanding warrants.

Well, all except one. But who knew when she'd show--

*CRACK* *BOOM*

A rainbow streak flashed high above Canterlot, leaving a supersonic shock wave in its wake. It turned sharply downwards, leaving the celebrating ponies barely enough time to scramble out of the way before it impacted the dance floor in front of Spitfire with the force of a small meteor.

"Captain Spitfire! Captain Spitfire! You won't BELIEVE what happened!" Rainbow Dash leaped from her impact crater and shook bits of rock and dust from her coat like a wet dog. "The girls and I got attacked by Tempest Shadow's goons cause they wanted Twilight's magic for some big stick thing, but we fell off the bridge and were swept away over the waterfall, then we had to go on an adventure halfway across Equestria to find the queen of the hippos, who I guess was actually a hippogriff disguised as a seapony? But then they captured Twilight and we came back here and kicked SO MUCH FLANK!! Did you see I got FIRED OUT OF A CANNON!? Seriously, it was SO! AWESOME!!"

"Crash! Good timing on the entrance, I was looking for you."

"Huh?"

"Never mind," Spitfire shook her head, "and yes, I heard what happened. I think the entire country's heard by now."

"Oh! True." Rainbow squirmed in place, hopping from hoof to hoof. "Wasn't it SWEET!?"

Spitfire couldn't help but laugh a little. "That it was, Airmare. Which reminds me, I need to put paperwork in for your medal. If even half of what you said is verifiable, you're due for at least an Equestrian Service Cross."

"Oh," Rainbow's expression clouded slightly. "But... I wasn't even with the Bolts! The girls and I were kinda just doing our thing, y'know?"

"You still saved the kingdom, Rainbow."

"I guess. But I dunno, if you and Soarin and the team aren't getting anything... feels kinda weird..."

"Crash, I've got a closet full of shiny pins back at base. We'll be fine, trust me."

"Well, I guess... actually, could you ship it to my parents in Cloudsdale? Bow Hothoof and Windy Whistles, I think they'd really like it?"

"...I'll make a note in your file."

"Sweetthanksbye!" A rush of wind and a supersonic whipcrack rolled across the crowd, and Rainbow was gone.

"You're dismissed for the day, Airmare!" Spitfire yelled to nopony in paticular. "Ugh."

Radar chirped from his spot between her ears. She liked it when he perched on her head, the talons helped against the industrial-strength migraines the job could give her.

"You're right, little one. I guess it could be worse." Spitfire unscrewed her flask again and held it up to her head. Radar hopped once and lapped up a stray drop of Wild Pegasus near the rim with a squawk of thanks. Spitfire sipped some herself and settled back onto her flank, enjoying the sights and sounds of a hundred thousand creatures of Equestria and the lands beyond sing and dance without a single worry. Her squadron was safe, the kingdom was safe, and nopony was demanding her attention for some imminent disaster.

For once, Spitfire thought, all was right with the world.

...

“WHAT THE HAY!?” Princess Cadance’s furious shouts reverberated throughout the corridors of the castle, amplified by all the force the Royal Canterlot Voice could muster. “WHO WENT THROUGH ALL MY STUFF?”

Author's Note

Dammit, I threw this story in the washing machine with a other one of mine and now I can’t get the OCs out. Oh well.

Marking this as complete, I might come back to it if I think of something really good but this feels like as good a place to end as any. I feel as if it encapsulates what I set out to do: make promises of heart-pounding action, then actually deliver crude dialogue and infantile humor. Everypony’s fine, the day was saved, if not by our heroes than at least by SOMEPONY, and Soarin and Fleetfoot somehow ended up in BDSM gear.

Mission Accomplished

Negative Ghostrider, the Pattern is Full

"Pie Tin Nine-Nine, cleared for low approach runway two-seven," the voice in Soarin's head told him. He often listened to the voices. They had surprisingly good advice, which is more than you can say about most disembodied voices. None of that 'Go ahead, put on the Alicorn Amulet. Unlimited power and absolutely no catch!' stuff here, just good old-fashioned advice about life. Usually in the form of air-traffic control clearances, for some reason that presently eluded Soarin.

"Wilco, Tower. Pie Tin Nine-Nine low approach two-seven," Soarin replied. He glanced at his squadmate Fleetfoot, currently tucked alongside his wing in a tight formation. He motioned downward with a hoof. Fleet nodded curtly, needing no further explanation. Years of camaraderie had given the Wonderbolts demonstration team a connection so deep it bordered on the telepathic. For example, any single Wonderbolt, regardless of location or proximity to the rest of the squad, could tell you the exact second that Spitfire started looking for 'volunteers' to clean the locker room.

Both ponies waited a second, continuing their leisurely flight just below the clouds. Then, as if on cue, they both rolled belly-up and dove towards the ground. The wind whipped through their manes as they plummeted to the ground, the buildings of Prism Plateau rushing up to meet them. Soarin felt the strain against his wing muscles as he pulled up, leveling of at the last second and skimming the treetops at dizzying speeds. A blue-white blur in his peripheral vision told him Fleetfoot was still holding perfect formation. The two ponies hurdled towards the Wonderbolts headquarters' landing strip as the voice in Soarin's head spoke up.

"Pie Tin Nine-Nine, do NOT buzz the tower! Maintain one five zero knots or slowe--FUCKIN--" *kshhht*

The voice cut out in a squeal of static as two blue blurs flashed past the control tower. The high-pitched squeal of the approaching flyers hit a fever pitch, then lowered to a deep thunder as they rocketed past. Windows clattered all over the plateau as the wind roiled in Soarin and Fleetfoot's wake.

You can't do everything a disembodied voice tells you to do, after all. Ponies would think you're crazy.

The two flyers pulled up out of the maneuver, trading their speed for altitude. Satisfied with their grandstanding for the day, they eased off into a leisurely glide back down to the training camp. Soarin waved jovially back at the control tower. Several ponies scurried about, too busy cleaning up spilled coffee to wave back, while Commander Spit Take angrily shook a hoof at the hot-dog flyers.

"Celestia-damn it, Clipper, again?! When the captain gets back your flank will be on a working detail so fast that--"

Soarin reached up to his left ear and unclipped the magical device that let him hear the otherworldly voices, casually tossing it over his shoulder. He turned to Fleetfoot. "Nice one, Fleet! That oughta wake the cadets up, huh?"

"Heck yeah! You know I'm always down for a flyby, dude." They hoof-bumped as only two world famous athletes could. "Anyway, I gotta head out. Spitz made me take care of Surprise while she's out at the Captains' Conference. It's almost time for her walk."

"Harsh, sis-bro. Harsh." Soarin nodded gravely. He empathized with Fleetfoot, he wouldn't wish Surprise-watch on his worst enemy. Of course, if you asked most ponies to describe a hypothetical 'worst enemy', they would often come up with a pony remarkably similar to Fleetfoot. Not Soarin, though. He thought of Fleetfoot as a friend, as he did with nearly everypony stationed on the Plateau. Why else whould she play friendly pranks on him, like that time she dosed his pre-workout with laxative right before the season's time trials? She'd gotten him good that time! "I'd help, but I've got mentoring duty this morning. She wants me to bring Crash up to speed on this season's routine." He wrinkled his brow as he considered that last statement. Did Spitfire mean that literally? Because Rainbow Dash was already pretty fast and--

His train of thought derailed at the sound of Fleetfoot's chuckles. "Oh, I see how it is!" She made the tactical military hoof-signal for 'gettin' bizzay.' "Sure, ditch your wingmare for some hot newbie action. I'll deal with Surprise's crazy all on my own."

"Dudeeeeeeee," Soarin groaned. "It's not like that! I am, like, totally professional and all that junk."

"Mhmm, don't act like you haven't thought about it. I've seen you eyeballing that candy-coated flank!" Fleetfoot dropped her voice to a 'stage whisper' that Soarin, and half the Plateau, could still hear with ease, "You know you want to taste the Rainbow, amIrite?"

"Keepitdownkeepitdown!" Soarin shushed her, hurriedly looking around to make sure that nopony had taken interest in their conversation. "I mean, yeah, she's totally rockin', but I'm not gonna put the moves on a newbie, y'know? Plus, you know Captain's rule, aren't you still on laundry detail from that thing with the Academy cadet? What's her name, Cloud Kicker?"

"Nah, Lightning Streak is covering those for me. I bet him he couldn't pull off an inverted flat spin..."

"What's so hard about that?"

"...right after he finished a pitcher of cider." Fleetfoot smirked. "Oh, and for your little date with the rook, you should take her over by that thunderstorm they're building south of Ponyville. It's a great view, tops out at fifty thousand feet. Plus, the cloud's static charge feels great for when you two start blah blah blah this should be too small to read" She leaned over, whispering something completely workplace-appropriate into Soarin's ear.

"Okay, leaving now!" Soarin insisted, now blushing profusely. He peeled off, descending towards the demonstration team's barracks.

Fleetfoot gave him a mocking salute, waggling her eyebrows. "Remember, don't mentor without protection!" She called out after him.

"Have fun with Surprise!" Soarin shot back.

"Jerk... later, Clipper!"

"Seeya, Flatfoot!"

Author's Note

Aaand here we go. This story works much better if you hum Kenny Loggins' "Highway to the Danger Zone" as you read it.

To be updated as I think of funny things for the Bolts to do. This isn't necessarily going to be comment-driven, but I welcome any input so feel free to leave any ideas you may have in the comments. (Doesn't matter if they're dumb. This whole story is rule-of-dumb, except for the parts where I sneak in aviation nerd stuff and try to make it look like an accident.)