Day 42

Solar Empire

17 km west of the front lines

The bell in the tower chimed as the clock struck noon, echoing across the small town and through it's streets. Walking slowly down one of those streets, just at the exit of the town, was a detachment of soldiers carrying a casket.

At the cemetery, just outside the entrance to the small town, they laid the casket down in the recently dug grave and stood beside it. Another brave aviator dead. A lingering thought hung in the air, one that was on every pony’s’ mind. However many more? How many more lives?

“Ready! Up!” called the commander interrupting their thoughts. In response they rose their crossbows to fire off a 21 gun salute. They didn't get the chance.

Without warning, four black dots appeared in the sky above, jackknifing through the air, and diving like a hawk directly at the funeral.

The unmistakable sounds of feather engines filled the quiet atmosphere. Those attending the funeral scattered as the dots came closer, revealing the forms of a four wing squadron of Shadowbolts. The lead pony smiled to herself, nodded with an ‘I got this’ face, dropped her ‘package’ and pulled up.

The dropped package hit its mark, landing right on top of the casket. The velvet eyes of Scootaloo remained fixed on the package she had dropped. During that time, she was lost in thought, remembering the significance of who was inside that casket. She glanced forward and barrel rolled, narrowly avoiding the bell tower.

Behind her, one of the Shadowbolts saluted, another waved at the ponies below. The last simply followed the others back to the front lines. The ponies on the ground watched them fly in the direction of the front lines, and disappear beyond the horizon. After the Shadowbolts had gone, those on the ground walked back to the grave. Most had seen the package fall and now they were curious as to what it was considering it hadn't blown up.

It was a…

...

...reef?

It was a reef. The Shadowbolt had dropped a green, circular, reef. Attached to the reef was a red ribbon, sewed to the side of the ribbon, in gold letters, was a simple, but powerful message.

To Featherweight, our friend and enemy.

Scootaloo thought of this as she climbed with her squadron back through the clouds, reaching an altitude above where the clouds had been placed. They leveled out around there.

Scootaloo looked at her squadron. Next to her on her left, was her wing pony, Rumble. School-hood friend and secretly a crush. On his left was a pony named Lightning Dust. A former Wonderbolt Academy student, who was disbanded for being reckless. The accident she had caused had almost killed five ponies. Scootaloo didn't know a lot about the rest of the story, but she knew that Lightning wasn't allowed to become a leader or even a wing pony.

She was to be a squad mate, that was all she she could be at that time. As a matter of fact, Scootaloo at the moment was a higher rank than her.

But it didn't matter too much, reason being Lightning’s flying was incredible. Scootaloo could tell Lightning had learn’t from her past mistakes, whatever they had been. However Lightning was still cocky, and needed constant discipline to keep her in line.

From her right, Scootaloo heard a yawn. She turned toward the pony on that side, then proceeded to roll her eyes at the bat pony. Her name was Echo, and she was the newest member of the squadron. Like virtually all of the bat ponies, she had gone with Princess Luna immediately upon succeeding. ⅓ of the Shadowbolts recruits alone were made up of these creatures of the night.

Being a creature of the night, Echo was still adjusting to the new sleep schedule. She had adapted to it for the most part, but was still rather lethargy.

As they were flying, a noise entered Scootaloo’s ears. She had heard it many times before, but this time it was difficult to make out. The reason behind this simply was because she was currently surrounded by it. It could only be one thing.

More feather engines.

Scootaloo looked behind her towards the sun. One of the greatest stealth tactics in this type of combat was to come at your enemies from the sun. Scootaloo frowned. She couldn't see anyone, but that didn't mean they weren't there. Looking forward again, she cocked her starboard AMC that was attached to her chest.

She fired two bursts of two arrows, making her entire squadron look back at the sun. A few seconds later, the silhouettes of more than a dozen Wonderbolts appeared out of the path of the glowing orb in the sky. Echo looked forward again, and cocked both of her AMCs simultaneously.

The enemy started diving on them. Scootaloo smiled. The Shadowbolts split into two groups, then split again into four groups of one. As predicted, the Wonderbolts followed after them. Scootaloo signaled the rest of the squadron, and together they climbed. At the same time, they crossed paths, barely missing each other. They had practiced that technique before though.

The Wonderbolts however, did not.

At least four of the loyalist ponies collided in midair.

Scootaloo looked over at Rumble, seeing him disappear into the clouds. She smiled.

Her thoughts were interrupted as several arrows whizzed by. She turned to their source, it was a new type of fighter. It was known as a rear gunner. When going into attack mode, these fighters would fly inverted, the AMC attached to their bellies could be controlled manually. This in theory would cause a Shadowbolt to close in behind them, not realizing they would be shot.

But Scootaloo knew better than to just rush in blindly. She did a half loop, then a half roll, leveling out a distance behind the rear gunner. The said pony was letting off a never pausing spray of arrows. Trying to hit the Shadowbolt despite being obviously out of range. Scootaloo was patient, she could wait. She cocked her other AMC in the meantime.

Another Wonderbolt approached from behind, Scootaloo looked back at her. Specifically, the side of her flank. Over that spot on the uniform for both forces fighting in the war, was an image of the pony's cutie mark. And Scootaloo recognized this one, it was unmistakable.

Scootaloo frowned. She looked back at the Wonderbolt ahead of her, and dove. Gaining speed, she then pulled back up closer to the pony she was tracking. That pony tried to shoot her, but Scootaloo kept maneuvering to prevent being shot.

Then without warning, there was an obvious ‘click’ that came from the Wonderbolt’s AMC. Scootaloo smiled at the panicked look in the eyes of the pony who just ran out of ammo. She lined up her shot from the sight extending from part of her flight suit, and pulled the trigger.

The pony cried out each time an arrow made contact with his body. Scootaloo leaned slightly to the right, her spray of arrows connecting with the pony's wing. Several of the arrows fired damaged a portion of the feather engines on the pony’s wing. Smoke trailed from the damaged engines and the pony began to lose control and consciousness. The first from the damage, the latter from the pain. He took his mask off, hoping that the feeling of the wind on his face would keep him awake.

Scootaloo’s eyes followed him down, but her gazing was interrupted as she heard a war cry from behind her.

Followed immediately by several arrows whizzing past her, barely missing her body. As soon as her mind processed that, she banked to the right, trying to out turn the pony behind her. It was the same one she had noticed behind her while she was ‘hunting’ so to speak.

She bit her lip as she came to a realization. She wasn't turning hard enough to evade the opponent tailing behind her. It wasn't good news. Looking to her right, she noticed a pair of Wonderbolts approaching her head on, she set a collision course.

Just before the three of them could collide, she banked hard into a 85* bank to the right, slipping between them. This forced the pony behind her to pull back, losing her position, angle, and the overall ability to shoot her down. Scootaloo once more found her gaze set on that pony, specifically where the pony's cutie mark was. This could take a while.

But she would get her squad home.

…

29 km east of the front lines

Lunar Republic Air Force base: Nocturnal 1

The four members of the Squadron stood motionless in a line out on the landing strip used at the base. They all had slightly bemused smiles on their faces despite why they were all called out onto the field. Commander Black Knight stood before them with his back turned toward the squad. He slowly turned around, trying to keep his voice calm, but failing anyway.

“Are you all out of your minds?!”

“Yes sir,” they replied simultaneously, expressions not changed in the slightest.

“Shadow 13,” he said directly to Scootaloo, calling her by her military designation. “You risked your squadron, the last squadron we have at the front lines at this moment, to attend an enemy funeral?!”

“His name was Featherweight sir,” Rumble started. “Me and Scootaloo went to school with him. He was a good friend of ours.”

“You're talking about a Solar aviator for Luna’s sake!” The commander shot back.

“Exactly,” replied Lightning. “I’ve heard quite some things about the colt. I’m disappointed in not getting a chance to take him out myself. I could do with a good challenge. Eh Scootaloo?” She asked turning to her lead pony.

“I will agree that it is a shame he’s not with us anymore,” finished the lead pony.

The commander just shook his head when he realized he wasn't getting anywhere with the rebellious squadron before him. “Ah, what the hey?” He quietly muttered. “Dismissed,” he said turning and walking away, giving into his defeat.

Some things never changed.

Author's Note

Sorry it took so long. I hope I can update quicker, but I can't make any promises.