Wild Blue Yonder

Chapters

Off We Go
Into the Wild Blue Yonder
Soaring High
Deception and Mud
Emotional Dams Busted
The Big Push
A Monster
Questions and Replacements

Off We Go

A flight of pegasi soared over Turbofan’s’ head, flying to R.E.A.F Hoofington. A smile spread over his face, because he was joining them. He had volunteered for the Royal Equestrian Air Force the day before, not completely out of patriotism or daring, just out of a love of flight and advice from his father; “don't join the infantry, you have wings, you might as well use them instead of your hooves!” Advice that he planned to follow. Approaching the main gate of the base, Heavy Wings found it blocked by a guard. Time to turn on the charisma. Turbo approached with a smile. The guard sized him up, deciding if he was a threat. As a pegasi with a large frame, light blue fur, a black mane and flight goggles as a cutie mark, he cut quite a figure. Still smiling, Turbofan showed him his enlistment papers. The guard's eyes narrowed as he looked at the papers. Behind the smile, Turbo was sweating. If this pony turns me down, all of this would have been for nothing. Finally, the guard grunted and opened the gate.

“Thanks,” Turbo said with his nicest smile. Inside, an aviation wonderland awaited. Pegasi took off and landed, some did wing lifts, some tested equipment, others flew around a track, still more just strolled around. Turbofan was surprised by the amount of non pegasi present, until he remembered about chariots. They would be pulled by either 2 or 4 pegasi and would have a unicorn or earth pony as a gunner and bomber. Hell of a job, Turbo reflected. Slowly flying over enemy territory, loaded with explosives, and trusting a team of pegasi to get you home safe. Turbofan trotted past all of that, and went right into the command building. Awaiting him was an earth pony secretary who looked bored out of her mind.

“Excuse me?” She barely glanced his way.

“Are you a recruit?” she asked in the most dull way possible. Nonetheless, Turbo was polite.

“Yes ma’am. I was ordered here at this specified time.”

“We just need to ask you some basic questions.” Sweet Celestia, get this pony some coffee! How can she be so bored when I'm finally giving her something to do?“Name?”

“Turbofan Engine.”

“Okay, are you capable of flight.” The sheer stupidity of asking a pegasus that shocked Turbo.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Average wing power?” He had to think for a moment.

“12.8 cruising, 17.1 max.”

“Immediate family to inform in case of death?” If the flight question confused him, than this stupefied Turbo.

“Yes ma’am,” he stuttered. “Father is Turboprop Engine who resides in Cloudsdale and mother is Landing Flaps, also in Cloudsdale. 1659 Stratus Lane.”

“Sign here.” Turbo did as told. “Now go join the others by Hanger Two.” He trotted out the door and across to his designated place. Standing there were four stallions and two mares. One of the mares was strikingly pretty, with a pure white coat and a muted lime green mane. After Turbo joined them, they just stood there, silently. Turbo couldn't stand the silence, so he broke it.

“So, does anypony want to introduce themselves?” The one mare sighed.

“Fine, since you insisted. My name is Nimble, Nimble Flight. That's all you need to know about me.” Turbo felt that the information she provided wasn't enough.

“Awww, come on. This is the military, sweetheart, you can't keep anything secret from anypony.” Nimble hid a blush and just glared back.

“I'll decide whether I like you or not before I tell more.”

Turbo just chuckled. “Fair enough. Anypony else?” One of the stallions cleared his throat.

“I'll do it. My name is Pitch. I'm from Ponyville and I have two brothers, Roll and Yaw. That's all.” Turbo grunted.

“Quite the social group this one is. Anyway, I'm Turbofan Engine, you just call me Turbo. Born and raised in Cloudsdale. My dad owns a factory. That's all I have.” The others nodded and the rest introduced themselves. The trainees, including Turbo, were Nimble Flight, Pitch, a mare named Lemon Scented, who, ironically, smelled like roses, Sopwith Camel, Golden Wings, and Nimbostratus. One of the veterans strode over.

“Hey Crusher, didn't know the circus was in town! Look at these fools!” Turbo felt his cheeks glowing with rage.

“I dare say you might be right, Contrail.” They snickered.

Before anypony could retort, “Cloud Crusher, Contrail, buck off, I've got recruits to train.”

Trotting into view was an intimidating looking mare. “Don't mind them, somepony once shoved a stick up their flanks when they were foals.” I like this pony. “My name is Hawker Hurricane, and I will be training you for the next month. There is a lot more to combat flying than just combat and flying. You will be pushed to your speed limits, taught maneuvers no sane pony would pull off, and how to stay on a gryphon’s tail.” The ponies cheered. “Now, 500 laps around the base.” It was as if somepony pulled the plug of their eleation. With a small bit of groaning, they took off.

“You've been training for a week now, I've taught you formation flying, basic maneuvers, and energy control. Now for the most important part. A fighter flyer is just for show without their weapons. Introducing, Vickers Fury.” A unicorn with a lab coat trotted into the hangar, with a strange looking device in his hooves.

“Good afternoon, ponies. What I have here will save your life in the skies. This is a Magik Factory Machine Gun. Weighing 5 pounds, shooting 5 magic blasts per second, and strapped to your hooves. A volunteer, please?” Turbo stood up and trotted over to the unicorn. “Now, stand on your hind legs and put your fore hooves in these straps.” He did as told and Vickers tightened the straps. “Now, attach these to your head.” On the gun were two wires, with small suction cups at the end. “On the front, there will be a small hole in your flight suit that you put these in.”

“What are they?” Turbo asked.

“Neurotransmitters. When you want to fire, your brain will emit a signal saying that and the gun cooperates.” Turbo didn't understand, but he pretended to get it. “Now, eh, be warned.” Huh? “If you fire too many times in quick succession, it will overheat.”

“Not a problem Doc, I can take a little heat.”

“Well except that it will explode at a certain temperature.” Turbo’s mouth hit the floor, along with all the other recruits.

“So, you're telling me, I'm basically holding an explosive in my hooves?!” Vickers nodded. “Great! Wonderful! The thing is supposed to keep me safe, and the whole thing can bucking explode!”

“Pish, don't be so dramatic. The faster you fly, the more it cools.” It brought some comfort to Turbo. “Now, Hurricane?” She nodded.

“Yep. Now it's time for gunnery practice. Range, now!” They trotted outside. Looks like papa got a new toy.

Graduation day approached quickly. Turbo in particular became proficient at gunnery. The cadets had warmed up to each other, Nimble in particular. She began talking to Turbo more often, asking questions about his life and occasionally, answering questions about her own. They became each other's wingponies, even sharing a quarter (the beds were separated, of course). Since it was only the seven of them, graduation was a small affair. Just a congratulations from Hurricane and the base commandant, and a small party.

“Attention!” They all stiffened. The commandant stood in front of them. “Usually, there is a small waiting period before deployment, but not today. You seven have been assigned to 4 Squadron, effective immediately. You have 5 hours. Dismissed.” Turbo hurried to his and Nimble’s shared room, and started packing. She arrived a few minutes later with things to say.

“Turbo.” He didn't hear, for his mind was throbbing. “Turbofan.” Still nothing. “Turbofan Engine!” Startled, he finally glanced her way.

“Ah, Nimble, didn't see you walk in.” Nimble sat down on her bed, with a clearly distressed look on her face.

“I have something for you to do.” Turbo stopped packing.

“What could it possibly be?” Turbo said with a bit of scorn that vanished once he saw tears forming at her wonderful green eyes. “What is it?” he asked, much more gently.

“I know it all falls down to me, but I have a promise for you.” Nimble bit her lip. “Promise me you will try to get me home safe. I have a family to care about. You’re my wingpony, so you're protecting my flank. Promise me.” She stared forcefully, yet pleadingly at the same time, into his eyes.

“I promise,” Turbo croaked. She bowed her head. “I promise, and I mean it. I'll always be on your flank, Nimble.” A small smile spread across her face.

“Thank you.” Suddenly, Turbo had hooves wrapped around his neck. Nimble was hugging him. Gently, he stroked her mane.

“I promise.”

Into the Wild Blue Yonder

Gryphony looked like a dismal place. It didn't help that it was raining. Coming of the boat, now Lieutenant Turbofan saw mountains, rocks and more rocks. He hoped that this was just one part of the country, that it wasn't all one contusions eyesore. Deep down, he knew that it was a forlorn hope. The other recruits of 4 Squadron shared the same sentiment, especially Golden Wings, who was used to the vibrant colors of his hometown, Los Pegasus. Turbo approached one of the dock ponies.

“Excuse me?” The gruff earth pony looked back and grunted a response. “Where can we find R.E.A.F…” he looked at his paper. “Ironwood?”

“Thrie quatas af a hundrd miiiels an Ahk Grav Rad.”

“I'm sorry, what?” Nimble stepped in.

“Don't worry, I got this. Thrie quatas af a hundrd miiilels an Ark Grav Rad, yoo says?” The dock ponie nodded.

“Yee, can mis et!”

“Yoo ave eh guud won, yeh Heer?” What just happened? “He said 75 miles on Oak Grove Road, which this says becomes Route 31.” The group stared at her amazed.

“Is there anything you can't do?” asked Turbo.

“Well, I’m not very good at construction, just saying,” Nimble replied, clearly enjoying the attention.

“Where did you learn to speak like that?” asked Lemon Scented. Nimble just shrugged.

“Fillydelphia. It's where I'm from and everyone speaks like that, even the upper class…not that I've ever been around rich ponies.” Both Turbo and Sopwith Camel raised their eyebrows. Is Nimble hiding something? Why?

“Alrighty then,” said Cam, his eyebrows still raised and suspicion still in voice. “Let's get a move on.” The group took off in silence and flew east, flying above Route 31.

To Turbo’s delight, he was wrong about Gryphony. After one hour of flying, the mountains gave way to rolling fields and forests, a picturesque countryside that made him wish that he had a camera. After two total hours of flying, a field appeared that was dotted with ponies, shacks, hangers and a manor at one end of it.

“This must be the base!” Nimbostratus, who insisted that he just be called Stratus, called over the wind.

“Yep! Let's head down!” Moving their hooves like they were galloping, the seven touched down for the first time at R.E.A.F Ironwood. Out of the largest building (that wasn't the manor) strode a self important looking pegasi, holding a cup of tea in his wing.

“Ah, you must be the new recruits,” he said with the kind of high class accent that made Turbo want to punch him in his face. “I'm Colonel Union Jack, and this is my squadron.” Nimble cleared her throat.

“Your servants, sir,” she said in the same upper class voice. He was clearly charmed by this pretty mare that spoke the same way he did.

“Ah ha, charmed. Major Spangeld Stars, show these ponies to their quarters. Major Stars looked like he just got back from the front, but he nonetheless saluted and beckoned the recruits over. They trotted across the field to the mansion. It dawned on Turbo.

“Wait, is the mansion our quarters?!” Stars nodded.

“The officers, at least. The enlisted ponies sleep in tents. For us, wingponies share rooms, to save the most space. Either way, the REAF knows how to put on a good war.” Turbo could only nod. They sure do.

For their first night in Gryphony, the group decided to go off the base and trotted over to the officers’ club. The interior was decorated with gryphon feathers, captured machine guns, bits of enemy chariots and other such memorabilia. A piano was being played, horribly at best, while ponies drunkenly sang with it.

“Well, well, well. It looks like the circus followed us here!” The piano player stopped suddenly, sensing a fight, shrugged, and continued anyway. Looking for the speaker, Turbo saw Cloud Crusher, leaning against the bar, drink in hoof, and his buddy Contrail slurping one down. Turbo put on a brave face.

“Hello Crusher, did you miss us?” He scoffed.

“Please, getting away from you freaks has been the best experience of my life!”

Stratus lost his composure. Yelling with rage, he took a wild swing at Crusher. He dodged and with a quick one-two sent Stratus sprawling on the floor.

“You seven can't come in here.” All of them were taken aback, but only Lemon actually responded.

“But, why?!” she whined. Contrail finally finished his drink and pointed to a chalkboard with his wings. The board was divided by squadron, and the squadrons had names in it. Next to each name on the board was a tally mark.

“Killers only.” Turbo looked closer, and sure enough, under 4 Squadron were the names Cloud Crusher and Contrail, Crusher having 4 to his name and Contrail 2.

“I see,” Turbo said with faked meekness. Before Crusher could snicker though, he threw out a well timed and aimed punch that impacted Crusher right on the side of his face. He fell off his barstool and landed on Contrail. “Me thinks we're done here, guys.” And just as soon as they trotted in, Turbo, Nimble, Cam, Lemon, Stratus and Golden Wings trotted out.

The manor was even more impressive on the inside. Ornate marble columns, beautiful oak staircases, just the highest quality everything. They arrived to Major Stars sitting on a cushion by the fire, reading calmly.

“You never said, who owned this before the war?” The major didn't even look up from his book.

“One Count Brass Beak. He fought in the war that unified Gryphony, and his reward was a manor, land, and a Countship.” If only they did that in Equestria, thought Turbo rather sadly.

“Does the Count still live here?” asked Golden. Stars shook his head.

“Nope. He abandoned his land and moved to Gryphonstone as soon as we invaded. I guess one war was enough for him.”

“Goodnight, Major.” To Turbo’s surprise, he actually looked up.

“Goodnight, you guys.” They trotted to their rooms, and once in bed, Turbo mumbled his good nights to Nimble, who was on the other side of the bedroom. He fell into a dreamless sleep.

“Get up! Get the buck up!” Turbo jerked awake to see Spangeld Stars standing over him.

“Wha, what?”

“Squadron,” he paused. “Wait, you and Nimble share a room?” Turbo had enough energy to answer.

“Okay, first, don't say it like that. You make it sound like we're sharing a bed. We’re wingponies, this is our arrangement. Two you were saying?” Spice Rack regained his initiative.

“Whole damn squadron is scrambling. The gryphons are making a huge push on the ground, plenty of the buckers are in the air, strafing our troops, making life harder than normal for the grunts.” Sweet Celestia, this is real. Nimble sat upright her mane a total mess, in a way that Turbo found attractive. I forgot how cute she looks straight out of be- YOU IDIOT! THINKING ABOUT THAT AT A TIME LIKE THIS! FOCUS!

“Whad I miss?” He explained the situation to her as well. They both sprung out of bed and down the foyer onto the field. Pegasi were running everywhere, some half dressed, others battle ready. The pair both reported to the command center and saluted. Union Jack waved his hoof.

“No time for that. Uniforms on and machine guns ready. You're up in half an hour.”

“Sir!” They dropped their salutes and ran out the door.

“For him to stop being his normal, polite, ‘I'm better than all of you’ self, this must be serious!” Nimble couldn't conceal a laugh. Arriving at the supply tent, they found their uniforms, a skintight blue and yellow flight suit, with holes on the side of the head for the neurotransmitters, just like Vickers Fury said there would be. Donning it, the next stop was the armory, where their weapons awaited.

“Turbo? Do you mind?” He nodded and tightened the straps to her MG, and Nimble did the same for him. The final piece of equipment was a large tank on their backs, containing raw magic that their guns used. Finally on the flight line, Turbo and Nimble saw the other 5 ready with everything and waving for them. Spangled Starswas correct, the whole squadron was out. 33 other pegasi waited for the green flare. There! Streaking across the sky was a green projectile, signaling take off. Up they rose, into the blue sky and towards the front.

20 minutes of flying later, Turbo saw the front. An ugly scar of death across a serene landscape.

“Gryphons!” came booming over the head set, nearly knocking Turbo out of the sky with surprise. Then he saw them. 5 of the buggers, strafing an artillery emplacement that already was endanger of being over run. 4 Squadron split up, and Turbo’s half dived down. He singled himself out a gryphon. They were not yet aware of the ponies diving down on them. Not yet…no…no…NOW! Turbo’s gun came to life and spat forward blasts of magic. The gryphon he targeted screamed a warning, and then in pain. A whole row of blasts hit him, and he went spiraling down in flames. Oh. What a horrible way to die. Celestia help me, I'm now a killer!

“Behind us!” Turbo inverted himself to see a large group of gryphons cutting through the upper half and a few diving on the lower half. He and Nimble nodded at each other, and did a complete about face to face their attack head on. The gryphons fired first, and tracers streaked over his head. Turbo put a small burst in, and then dived to avoid further fire. Two of the gryphons followed. He jolted around and bounced about the sky like a drunk dragonfly, but still they were on his tail.

“Nimble?” He didn't have to wait long, because out of the clouds came Nimble, streaking in for a boom and zoom on Turbo’s pursuers. One of them went down, the other veered off.

“Help me!” A mare was screaming over the intercom. Scanning the skies, he saw the ponies in distress. She was being pursued by four gryphons, all wanting her blood. Turbo and Nimble flew as fast as they could to her assistance when;

“Turbo, that's Lemon!” He looked closer and sure enough, the ponies had three lemons as a cutie mark.

“Let's go!” They both flew as fast as the could. Two gryphons blocked their path. Turbo’s rage boiled over. Out of my way! With no hesitation, he put bursts into the pair, one went down in flames, screaming in pain, the other was killed outright. Almost in range…almost…. One of the assailants got close enough to use his claws, and he used him to good effect. As the world seemed to move in slow motion, three talons slashed across Lemons back, blood misted in the air and they could he a gasp over the intercom. Her body went limp and still, and fell to the ground at breakneck speeds. “No!! Lemon!!!!” There was no response from the pegasi taking her final dive.

“Turbo, she's gone.” In the middle of the furball, Nimble grabbed him to restrain him. Turbo broke free, and flew faster than he ever went at the 4 victorious gryphons, hoof extended. He was aiming for the one that killed Lemon, it helped that the victor didn't notice a pegasus hurtling towards him. Turbo’s hoof impacted the gryphon’s neck with a satisfying crunch and span. His hoof’s victim’s neck had snapped. And then pain shot through his foreleg. Turbo was no healer, but he knew that he broke his foreleg. Nimble streaked down from above, and dispatched another one of the gryphons before the could attack the now wounded pegasi that killed one of their own.

“The squadron is heading back, Turbo! Let's go!” He waited until he saw his victim’s body hit the ground, and then meekly followed Nimble, adrenaline all gone. 16 gryphons had been knocked out of the sky, at the cost of ten ponies.

Landing was a challenge with a broken leg. As soon as it touched the ground, Turbo flipped on his side, yelling vulgar words in pain. Nimble helped him to the infirmary, where a unicorn nurse was helping three other ponies. When they opened the flap, the nurse, whose name was Rhinestone, looked their way.

“What's the damage?”

“Broken leg,” he managed to grunt.

“I'll get that set in no time. It will completely heal in 5 days, tops. However, you can't be on it much. If that means flying everywhere, or Celestia forbid, walking on two legs, then so be it.”

Turbo managed to laugh. “Ponies, walking everywhere on two legs! Can you imagine?! How horrible and impractical of a design that would be?! We'd be called Equestria Girls, or Boys.” The nurse was not amused.

Now officially killers, the group, minus Lemon, trotted (or flew) over to the officers’ club. The loss of Lemon was felt hardest here, everypony together without her. Their mood was grim walking in. Yet to their surprise, despite the loss of 10 good ponies, the club was normal. Ponies still drunkenly singing. One of their squadron mate, a pony named Fighting Falcon, pointed to the board. There, they saw Turbofan Engine, Nimble Flight, and Sopwith Camel being added.

“Congratulations, you're now officially killers. None of them felt in the mood to celebrate, but Turbo nevertheless sat at the bar and ordered a cider. Falcon sat next to him and nodded to the bartender. He nodded back and handed Turbo a golden drink.

“What is this?” Falcon nodded again.

“The gryphons call it whiskey, ponies call it Applejack Daniels, but here, it's the Drink of Death.” Turbo shrugged and took a sip. It was like liquid fire. He resisted the urge to spit it out, and the farther down it went, the smoother it became. Turbo upped the glass and drunk the whole thing. An unfamiliar mare sat down next to them.

“I don't get it,” Turbo lamented. “10 ponies go down in flames, and everypony here acts normally.”

“It is normal here, colt,” said the mare, even though she couldn't have been more than two years older than him. “Ponies are dying literally everyday. You just have to get used to it.”

“I think I'm done here,” Turbo mumbled and headed out the door. The stars were shining brightly. Turbo closed his eyes, and imagined that Lemon was one of those stars. “Celestia rest your soul, Lemon.” Turbo turned around and headed back inside

Soaring High

The gryphon’s offensive had been halted, the front stabilized, and normalcy returned to Ironwood. For a while, the only indication Turbo had of a war going on was ponies occasionally not returning. He sat, lounging under an ash tree when Nimble sat down next to him. She had to be ordered to conduct reconnaissance 5 times, because she refused to fly without her wingpony. And after 5 hours of flying, Nimble was exhausted.

“How's the leg feeling?”

“Great actually. Once today's patrol returns, I'm going to Colonel Stars and saying I'm fit for duty.” Nimble looked in the direction of the frontline, her eyes becoming cloudy.

“Why do you want to return? You're in paradise here compared to combat flying.” Turbo shook his head.

“I have a duty and job to do.” He nudged her side. “Besides, I recall making a promise to somepony that I'd always be there to watch her six. And if I'm not in the sky, then she doesn't want to fly, and it wouldn't be fair to her.” She smile, and then let out a wistful sigh. Nimble then laid her head on his lap with her face facing the base in in front of them. Turbo felt all his blood rush to his face. She didn't seem to notice.

“We've been here for only a week, and I am tired of this war. It seems like everytime I try to get to know somepony, they get shot down and die. I don't know. Maybe I should stop trying. ‘Cause on one hoof, you're the best company a pony could hope for. Kind, understanding, forgiving, yet ferocious and decisive.” The praise made Turbo glow. “On the other hoof, I wouldn't mind having more friends.” Turbo laughed. Nimble looked up at him, confused.

“I'm sorry,” he said, trying to contain it. “When we first met, you struck me as a huge introvert, and now here we are, and you're wishing for more friends.” She stuck out her tongue.

“I still am an introvert.” Turbo snorted.

“Please. You act like the opposite of that around me, ever since training.”

“Well can you really blame me?! Not only are you one of the best staillions I've ever met, we’re wingponies.” A smile crossed Turbo’s face.

“Remember how we became wingponies?” It was Nimble’s turn to smile.

“Like it was yesterday. Probably because it was the most scared I've ever been. I collided with another pony in the air, he landed on a cloud, I broke my wing and started falling. And you came flying over and saved me from going splat.” The vacant look returned to her eyes. “Those were the days.” The day’s line patrol came into sight and Turbo stood.

“I'd better report myself fit for duty.”

“Fine, go.” The blood had still not left his cheeks as he trotted across the field to the command center. Come now, wipe that blush off your face before you see Colonel Jack. Entering the command center, Turbo made his way over to Union Jack. He saluted.

“Reporting myself fit for duty, sir.” A relived smile crossed Colonel Jack’s face.

“Ah, good. I was going to have Major Stars come get you to report, but you did it yourself. Almost everypony is going up tomorrow. Bomber escort.” Union Jack noticed Turbo’s face of concern. “Ah, don't worry lad. You have a great talent, a solid wingpony, and your not one of the poor bastards flying the things.” Turbo faked a smile.

“Yes sir.”

“Now off with you, I have things to do.” And there is the Union Jack we all know and hate.

“Yes sir.” Trotting out the door, he ran into Camel. “News for tomorrow, Cam.” He looked at Turbo confused. “Bomber escort.” Camel broke into a smile.

“Yes sir, Lieutenant Turbo.” He dashed off, probably to tell the others.

“And stop calling me sir, Cam! You knew me as Turbo and you can leave it at that! I don't care if I'm a lieutenant! Bu- and he's gone.” Turbo chuckled. Who says the life of an officer was a privileged one.

The next day dawned misty and chilly. 4 Squadron’s total strength was 35 ponies, and 3 would not be going up. They all stood ready in the field, mist covering their hooves. It's almost surreal. Suddenly, the flare shot up from the tower, casting a green glow to further amplify the surreal feeling. But pegasi started lifting of from the ground, so Turbo’s flight joined them. A flight consisted of four ponies, in this case, Turbo, Nimble, Camel and Golden Wings. Pitch and Stratus were in a different flight. The cold air felt great on Turbo’s face. He checked his watch. The time read 6:30. His mind went back to the morning’s briefing.

“Take off at 6:30. You are expected to meet up with the bomber wing here,” as Union Jack poked the map with his baton, at a point about two miles from the front. “The rendezvous is at 7:00 sharp. You are flying 80 miles, to here.” Again he pointed to the map. “This is a gryphon railyard. It has double importance because it serves as a marshaling yard for units heading to the front. You keep the gryphons off the bombers, they unleash their load, and you get back. Simple. Flight line by 6:15 gentlecolts.”

“And there they are.” The flight to the rendezvous point was uneventful, the monotony broken by Golden Wings spotting the bombers. They were cruising 2,000 hooves above them.

“Good eye, Wings.” Turbo changed the frequency to the all the flight leads comm. “Bombers in sight.” The squadron flew up at 45 degrees to mingle with the formation. They were spotted by the bomber wing, and after they were identified, they were waved to by one of the gunners. Now flying directly over no pony’s land, the ground fire started.

“What the?!” Camel was cut off by bursting flak. Black puffs of smoke filled the skies around them. It was Turbo's first time dealing with ground fire, but he had the presence of mind to stay calm. With a loud BOOM and the sound of wood being crushed, one of the bombers went down into no pony’s land. Turbo was close enough to see the sky chariot in shambles, the gunner unconscious, two of the pegasi dead, and the other two struggling to escape the harness. Their end would be violent, but quick. No other casualties were sustained from the flak, and they crossed over the gryphon lines quickly.

“Ah. And here I was thinking we'd be left alone.” Wait, what? Turbo scanned the skies. No…no… there! At 2 o’c high was at least 20 gryphons. Still on the flight leader’s frequency, he heard Spangled Stars’ voice. “2nd, 3rd, 4th and 6th flight engage!” Turbo's flight was 6th, so that meant he would be involved in the dogfight.

“Let's go guys, we’re engaging.” He got “yes sirs!” from all his ponies. Turbo quit flapping his wings, rolled on his side, and turned a sharp 90 degrees to face the attackers that were now coming from 3 o’clock. He singled out a gryphon. In range in three…two…one… now! The gun spat forwards magic that impacted the gryphon with brutal efficacy. The poor beast swore all the way down. The flight wheeled around to catch the rear of the attackers. Gryphons and ponies were mixed in a wild dogfight, there was no chance of singling out a gryphon in the mix from the outside, so Turbo ordered the ponies to go in. Turbo thought he had seen confusion before, but he was wrong. The swirling mess of aerial combat was the definition of the word confusion. Checking his six, he saw an unfortunate sight. A gryphon, hot on his tail. Tracer fire flew by his face, missing his head by inches. Rolling over and diving, Turbo began to bounce about the sky to throw off the attacker’s aim while he thought of evasive move. Looking around for his wingpony, he saw Nimble engaged with a gryphon of her own.

“Buck. I have to do this myself.” He pulled a hard right bank, catching the gryphon by suprise. Once he caught on and started the turn of his own, Turbo spread his wings and climbed at a 70 degree angle. The gryphon still followed. Now going up at a 90 degree angle, a light bulb went off in his head. A very dangerous light bulb, but one nonetheless. He slowed down. The gryphon closed the distance fast, firing his weapon. The only reason Turbo wasn't filled with bullets was because this particular specimen was a horrible shot. With no warning, Turbo reversed and the gryphon shot past him. Turbo smiled. Gotcha. He fired one short burst, followed by a longer one, and the gryphon was riddled. On the way down the thing burst into flames. The pain must have awoken the unconscious gryphon, because he started screaming in pain. The delight of another victory was washed away with the horror of reality.

The gryphons fled and the bombers reached their target with no further problems. The symphony of destruction below was pleasing to anypony’s ears. Returning to base, Turbo learned that somehow, even in the midst of the wild furball, nopony was killed. Heading over to the officers club, he decided to take part in the Drink of Death. Turbo also decide that he would toast his victims, trying to put some civilization in a barbaric war.

“Bartender, Applejack Daniels please.” The pony slapped it down. Turbo cleared his throat, and lifted his glass. “Gentlecolts, a toast to two poor bastards who got on the wrong end of my gun.” Cheers echoed throughout the bar. Turbo took a sip. “One fell by sheer luck and I owe the other my life. If he wasn't such a bad shot, I wouldn't be here!” Even more cheering. “A toast, to two honorable enemies!” Turbo upturned his glass. What is wrong with you! You ended two lives today and you celebrate! This war is changing you. Turbo ignored that part of his head and began singing along with the piano.

“Lieutenant Turbofan, report to briefing.” Turbo opened his eyes and groaned as he saw an enlisted pony standing over him. “Lieutenant?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm up.” A thought crossed his mind. “What about Flight Officer Nimble?” The unicorn checked her list.

“I don't have that name on the list. So that means she is not going up.” Turbo rubbed his eyes and nodded. He thought about waking her up anyways, but decided to let her sleep. Nonetheless, Turbo left a note. I've been called up for a patrol. You weren't on the list, so I let you sleep in. -Turbo. Reporting to the briefing, he saw three other pegasi in the building with Colonel Jack. One didn'the recognize, Contrail and Cloud Crusher. He narrowed his eyes.

“Hello gentlecolts.” Crusher turned around, he had not been aware of Turbo's presence.

“What? This is the pony they're sending us up with? This greenhorn?!”

“Easy there, Crusher. This “greenhorn” has been up only twice and already he has as much kills as you.” Crusher scoffed.

“I got my six with skill, this colt got lucky.” Union Jack cleared his throat.

“Stallions and mare, if I may.” He projected a map with his magic. “Today, you have a line patrol scheduled. The mission is simple. Fly over this section of line, and return. If you see any gryphons in the air, engage.”

“Sir?” Colonel Jack sighed.

“Yes, lieutenant?”

“Why am I going up without my flight?”

“These are the ponies that didn't fly yesterday. They are fresh and Major Stars and I figured you could use the experience. Anymore questions? No? Than up you go!”

The front approached, as grim as ever. Artillery shells and bursts of magic impacted in no pony’s land, sending mud and bits of corpses flying. They flew over the assigned route, following the Equestrian trenches, looking for any trouble.

Flash! In a blur, a gryphon streaked down from above. “What the!” Suddenly, the sky wasn't just theirs. 6 gryphons came out of the clouds and dived down on the ponies. The Equestrian formation scattered. Turbo pulled a hard left turn out of reach of the gryphon’s guns. Tracer bullets followed him to no avail. An attacker still on his tail, he flew up at a 90 degree arc, only to nose over, facing the way he came. The gryphon, however, was fast and saw this move coming as soon a Turbo went vertical. It rolled and zoomed past, went out of reach of Turbo’ MG, arced around and came for a head on. Turbo dived to escape the talons reaching for him. They both began scissor fighting each other, arcing in and out of each other's aim, tracing the path of a double helix. On one of the passes, Turbo felt a sting on his back. A bullet had grazed him. Now enraged, he waited for the gryphon to come close. Once he finally was, Turbo kicked him in the jaw. The thing fell in pain, but probably survived. It wouldn't count as a kill.

“Help!” It was Cloud Crusher’s voice, all mojo and stallioness gone. Turbo saw him. He was being swarmed by three gryphons. Before any assistance could be rendered, a burst cut across his wing. He began to fall. Turbo dived after him, only to be jumped on by one of the three gryphons. He apparently was out of ammunition, because the gryphon tried to kill Turbo with his talons. Still struggling to get free, he looked down, just in time to see Crusher hit the ground and lay still. He was dead, and Turbo knew it. However, the mare he didn't reconize at the briefing came to his rescue. She knocked the gryphon holing Turbo unconscious, his grip released, the beast fell to the ground. She looked Turbo in eyes.

“Return to base,” she said with a harsh, but broken voice. Turbo could only nodded. Heading back gave him time to think. Oh Celestia, I wanted that pony out of my life, but this isn't what I meant. What do I say to Contrail? "I'm sorry, I couldn't save your best friend?"Landing at Ironwood, Turbo approached Contrail.

“Listen. I’m s-.”

“Don't try to apologize. It's your fault.” Turbo was dumbfounded.

“How was it my fault?!”

“You didn't dive fast enough!” Suddenly, his face was slapped by the mare.

“Contrail! Get a hold of yourself! It's nopony’s fault except the gryphons fault. You wanna get mad! Go shoot a gryphon.” She huffed away. Contrail glared at him, then huffed away as well. Turbo turned around, and saw Nimble standing there.

“What in Celestia’s name happened?”

“You remember Crusher?” She thought for a moment and then nodded. “He bit it today.”

“Oh,” she said softly. Camel came out of nowhere.

“Hey, we have a special guest! Some rich VIP is visiting Ironwood. Name is Fort Knox." Nimble quickly suppressed a shocked look. "He owns a lot of gold mines, so has a pretty large imprint in Equestrian society. Union Jack wants us in parade formation.” Turbo groaned and trotted over to stand with everypony else. They stood at attention as Union Jack and a brown pegasi strode up the line. The pegasi stopped and gazed more closely at Nimble who was at Turbo's side. A look of recognition flashed on the VIP. Nimble bit her lip.

“Hello, father."

Deception and Mud

“Hello, father.” Turbo's mind was swimming. Nimble’s held was held high, she looked her father right in the eyes.

“What are you doing here, Sky Diamond?” Sky Diamond? The thought was supposed to stay in his head, but Turbo said it out loud.

“I wasn't just going to stay home and not do my part. You probably didn't even notice I was gone.”

“So this is where you disappeared to, eh? Leaving your comfortable home and comfortable life to risk your life in some far off place? Do you ever think about your family?”

Turbo interjected. “Nimble Flight, what the buck is going on?!” She seemingly ignored Turbo's question.

“I do think about my family. These ponies you're standing in front of are my family.” Fort Knox sneered.

“Nimble Flight? Is that what you call yourself? How long have you lied to these ponies? You disobeyed my orders, ran off, lied about your name, and enlisted in the REAF. I'm bringing you home.” Fort Knox lunged forward, as if he was trying to drag her off. Turbo held out his wings, blocking Nimble from her father.

“I'm sorry sir, I can't let you do that. She is my wingpony, she has my back and I have her’s. We've been halfway through Tartarus together, and I made a promise to bring her all the way through. So no matter if it pleases you sir, but she is staying here.”

“Colonel Jack, we should dismiss the squadron.” Major Stars butted in, preventing the situation from getting worse. Union Jack made a face like he wanted to see more, but he nodded and the squadron walked off.

“Listen here, colt,” snarled Fort Knox as he pulled Turbo aside. “You have just made a powerful enemy. As soon as you get back to Equestria, you will find a horrible life waiting for you. Any assets, I'll freeze them. Try to get a job? I’ll block you.” The threat had little weight for Turbo.

“Mr Knox. It's Lieutenant Turbofan. You will address me as such.” The unbridled rage in Fort Knox’s eyes made Turbo wince, but he held his ground. Fort Knox huffed off.

“Alright, you have explaining to do!” Turbo’ gaze softened as he saw her. Nimble was sitting in her bed, head cast down. He flew over to her bed and sat on it, taking her face in his hooves, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Now, explain, please.” She sighed.

“I was born in Fillydelphia. I was the youngest of three sisters, they all embraced the rich pony lifestyle. All I saw from them and my father were greedy, good for nothing jackasses that would screw over anypony to get their way. And I hated it. I tried to unassociate myself as much as possible. One day, I had enough. War was declared, and they did nothing, I couldn't stand it. So I ran. I changed my name to Nimble Flight, so he couldn't find me. You know the rest.” One question remained in Turbo’ mind.

“If you hated your life, why'd you ask me to get you home?” She looked up at him with sad eyes.

“Because I want an actual life! Every struggle, every victory, I want to experience it! Besides, I want to live to be an old mare, with a stallion to grow old with.” At this, she gave him a hopeful smile. Whoa,whoawhoawhoawhoa. What just happened?

“Did you just?” Nimble laughed and shook her head.

“Maybe another time.”

“Okay. WAIT, WHAT!”

Dawn found 6th Flight on the flight line. A offensive patrol was scheduled for them, flying over both lines and looking for trouble. The green flare flew, and they flew off. The front approached, and no trouble was in sight.

“You guys feeling up for a strafing run?”

“Why not? Let's go.” Wheeling around, they came over the gryphon trenches. Alarms were raised, but not fast enough. In a column, they poured magic into the enemy trenches, obliterating everything in the path.

“New objective, look for their communication trenches, and destroy!”

“You're the boss!” Rolling over to right, Turbo saw a small ditch in the ground with wires in it. Flying over at breakneck speeds, they blasted magic into the trench, melting enough wire to render them inoperable. Flak began to burst, surrounding the four with black smoke, but not hurting them in any way. Turbo's blood was up from adrenaline.

“One more target, guys. Go after that artillery!” There was a slight hesitation. “Did I stutter?”

“No sir! Let's go get em!” Flying extremely low, they blasted over the artillery emplacements, went vertical, and dived on it, MGs barking to life. The artillery crews dived for cover, and it was easy picking to blow up their ammunition, then wrecking the guns.

“I see some gryphons messing with a canvas cover, 100 hooves away from her,” Nimble called over the intercom. “Oh Celestia! It's an AP gun!” The gryphons had uncovered an anti pegasi gun, and it came to life. A stinging pain made Turbo grunt. He looked back and his left flank was bleeding. He cursed. Still low to the ground, evasive maneuvers were hard to pull off, so they did anything to spoil the gun’s aim.

“Ahhhhh!” Golden Wings took a direct hit from the gun, and hit the ground hard.

“Wings! I'm coming for you!” Turbo landed and galloped over to Wing’s convulsing body.

“Ouch.” It was all he was able to say. Inspect the damage! See if he can fly aga- oh Celestia. One of his wings was missing down to his body. All that was left was a bloody stump.

“Hold on, I’m gonna get you outta here.” The wing was not the only thing damaged. Wings had large chunks of metal everywhere in his body, making it hard to grab him without causing huge pain.

“T-t-t-Turbo?” he stuttered. “T-t-t-t-take off, m-m-my gun and p-pack. It'll-it'll be easier to fly.” He nodded and undid the straps holding the MG to the body. Sliding the tank off his back, Turbo knew he was running out of time. They were behind the gryphon’s frontline trench, he was bleeding fast, and ground forces would soon be there.

“You gotta stay with me, I'm going to pick you up.” Wings nodded and then screamed in pain as Turbo hoisted him onto his back. Turbo took off his magic tank, and then turned his head back to Wings. “Don't let go of my neck.” He shot into the air as soon as he felt hooves around his neck, dodging, or trying to dodge, rifle bullets filling the air around him. Turbo didn't expect Golden to be so heavy, and soon was panting for air. A bullet finally found it’s mark, and he howled in pain as one struck his wing. They were over the gryphon trenches at last, but he was losing altitude fast. The ground was coming closer. “Nonononononono!” His “no’s” were silenced as they crashed into the mud.

Turbo awoke in a daze. He was sure he had died and gone to Tartarus, because No Pony’s Land was exactly that. Dead trees, fire, bits of rotting corpses were everywhere. But mostly, it was mud. Sticky, wet, mud. It had cushioned the fall, but not enough. Turbo must have headbutted a rock, because his forehead was cut and bleeding. Scanning the area around him, he saw Golden, sprawled out in the mud. Still breathing, but hurt worse. They were closer to the gryphon trenches than the Equestrian trenches, but he still had to get their. Throwing Golden on his back again, Turbo started trotting towards friendly lines, using cover. After a small amount of time, Turbo cursed and hit the mud. A picket group, 4 gryphons, crouched low in a crater, facing the other way, waiting for an attack to come. He had to think fast. The mud would mute most sounds, so throwing something like a lure was out of the question. He didn't understand Gryphon, so he couldn't give them false orders. Shooting them was out, that would make too much noise. Feeling his service knife in a pocket, he knew what he had to do.

“Ja, ich habe drei Brüder und eins Schwester. Und du?”1

“Ich bin ein Einzelkind, but ich haben ein Frau und wir habt zwei Kinder, WAS!”2 Turbo's knife went into the back of the gryphon, straight into his spinal cord and making his body convulse with spasms.

“Scheiß!” The second gryphon raised his rifle, but Turbo was quicker and slashed his neck, spilling blood all over the crater. The two remaining gryphons were stunned. One of them came to his senses.

“Los für Hilfen! Schnell!”3 The fourth one tried scrambling out of the crater. After stabbing the third one, further covering himself in blood, Turbo threw his knife at the escaping one, stabbing into his neck, killing him. Turbo crawled out of the crater and put Golden on his back once more.

“Halfway there!” It seemed with every step, Golden was getting heavier and heavier. He had lost consciousness and Turbo knew that he was running out of time. “Cmon, almost there!” He wasn't talking to the unconscious Golden as he was himself.

“Halt or we will fire! Oh, it's just pegasi, stand down!” Turbo smiled. They had reached safety. “Celestia, what happened to them? One is covered in blood.” Turbo still smiled. You're darn tootin. Finally, he succumbed to exhaustion and fell unconscious.

Turbo woke up in Ironwood’s infirmary. Nurse Rhinestone stood over him.

“You again? Is this going to become a regular thing?”

“Dunno ma’am. It depends on the gryphons.” She sighed and went over to another bed. Now waiting for him was Nimble. She looked angry.

“You! If you ever, ever, do that again, I will end you.” Turbo chuckled.

“Hello to you to, Nimble.” She spread out and hugged his whole body. He held her close as well. “So, what happened?”

“After you went down to get Golden, the flak became too thick. We had to return to base. They sent you here, you were out for 24 hours, and here you are now.”

“And Golden?” She bit her lip.

“They amputated the rest of his wing. He is on his way home.” It was better news than he expected.

“Alright, I need some rest, see you as soon as I get out of here.” She looked longingly in his eyes, and then kissed him. Turbo's breath was gone. She parted their lips, started a little longer and laughed a little. Turbo figured his face must be priceless. And with one final glance, she left the tent. What just happened?

Emotional Dams Busted

Landing at Ironwood were the squadron’s replacements. Turbo was dreading this moment. Replacing a friend with what, a greenhorn? But what greeted Turbo surprised him. Standing before him was a muscular pegasus colored sea foam green and with a blue mane.

“Are you the 6th Flight CO?” The voice was not proportional with his body, but Turbo nodded anyway.

“You found him. And you are?” The pony dropped his bag and saluted.

“Flight Officer Whirlpool, sir!” Turbo sighed.

“Okay, first, drop the salute. I'm only your commander when we're in the air. Two, you don't need to call me ‘Lieutenant Turbofan.’ I'm just Turbo.” One of the enlisted ponies came running across the field from the communication building to the command center. Colonel Jack walked out.

“4 Squadron, scramble!” Ponies began to run around like chickens with their heads cut off.

“You wanted action?” shouted Turbo over the sound. “You're gonna get plenty of it!” When they went to the armory for their gear, they found Major Stars giving out a haphazard briefing.

“A large formation of enemy bombers have crossed the lines at 6,000 hooves! Only a few of them hit our trenches, the rest are probably heading for air bases and supply dumps. Intercept as quick as possible. No flare, just head up when you're ready and wait for your flight. Turbo nodded and helped Whirlpool with the straps. In rushed Nimble and Camel, and he helped them with the straps. Galloping outside, ponies were taking off left and right while some earth ponies and unicorns manned anti air guns.

“Alright guys, take off.” Off they flew, climbing up to 6,000 hooves in only a few minutes. “Spot em, call em.” They searched for three minutes with no luck.

“I got bombers in my sight, 3 o’clock level!” Turbo looked to confirm. There they were, about 30 of them.

“Good eye, Cam. Move to engage.” The rolled over to face the enemy, coming at them from a 10 degree angle, giving them a large target to fire at. Already, some flights had engaged. Turbo realized a flaw in their attack. The flights were coming pericemental, giving the escorts plenty of time regroup and attack. “Push on, guys. No mercy.” Turbo fired a burst into the lead bomber, it caught fire and started to fall. Turbo corkscrewed over the formation, trying to throw off the gunners’ aim. It couldn't be confirmed as a kill, as he didn't see it go down.

“Hard right Turbo!”

“Huh?” He faced forward, and looked directly into the eyes of a gryphon escort. “Ah. Hallo mein Freund.” The beast was not amused, and slashed Turbo in the face. He roared in pain. The gryphon grabbed him by the neck and started plummeting towards the ground. Turbo started panicking as the ground got closer. He began swinging at the gryphons face, but to no avail. Welp, I guess this is it. Turbo closed his eyes and waited for the end. POW POW POW POW! The gryphon’s gripped loosen. He opened his eyes and saw Nimble on top of his attacker. She shoved him off with a grunt, freeing Turbo's wings. He spread them, and soared into the clouds.

“Didn't I tell you not to do that again?!” screeched Nimble.

“Thank you, Nimb.”

“You're welcome, but don't expect me to do that again. Next time, you'll suffer for your stupid decisions!”

“And what was that stupid decision?”

“You saying ‘hello, my friend’ to the gryphon!” Sopwith butted in.

“Can you two stop arguing like an old married couple and focus!”

“Alright, alright! Let's from up and attack the bombers.” It occurred to Turbo that they were lost. “Ah. Slight problem. Where are we?” Whirlpool cursed.

“Thanks Turbo,” Nimble said. “You got us lost!” He was losing his patience.

“Do you want to command 6th Flight?! Then be my guess! Now everypony shut up so I can talk to Major Stars!” He changed the frequency to the commanders’ radio. “Major, can I get the location of the enemy?” The radio buzzed and an answer finally came back. “Wilco, sir.” Changing frequencies again, he found his flight’s. “Alright, guys. Bombers are 10 o’clock high from our positon. Get above and dive down on em. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir,” everypony mumbled in unison. After searching, they found the bombers. They were being attacked by 3rd Flight. Climbing to 2,000 hooves above, Turbo gestured down. Everypony nodded. Sucking in a breath, Turbo tucked in his wings, and pointed himself downward at a 90 degree angle, slightly rolling. Sending a long burst into one of the bombers, Turbo was satisfied to see it nose dive towards the ground.

BAM!

“What the?” A shockwave buffeted him and sent Turbo spinning out of control. What in Celestia’s name happened. “Oof!” A chunk of wood bounced off his chest. The only thing he could guess happened was that one of the bomber’s load exploded. Regaining aerodynamic control, he looked up and saw to his delight, that the formation broke up and started heading for home. “Alright, that's enough. We're heading home.”

They were silent the entire way back, all exhausted from 4 hours of continuous flying. Once touched down at Ironwood, Nimble approached Turbo.

“What was that?” He didn't answer. “Turbo, something is off with you today. I can feel it.” Still no answer. “Well?” He finally just shrugged his haunches.

“Just an off day for me, I guess.” She wasn't accepting that as an answer.

“Bull. There is something more going on.”

“I'm not talking about it.” Turbo, get out of here, now! There is no time for me! “No badgering me for more information.” I'm not leaving you, mom! Wind Rider too! We can escape together! She looked at him with pleading eyes.

“You're hiding something, I can tell.” Listen to your mother one last time! Get out of here!

“It's the anniversary of my mother and sister’s death, okay!?” Nimble's ears went flat.

“Oh. Listen I'm s-”

“Don't be,” he said, voice a lot calmer. “It's not your fault. I was going to burst sooner or later.” She sat down under their ash tree, head held low, clearly still upset that it was her fault Turbo had burst out. Turbo sat next to her. “It was six years ago.” Nimble looked at him with surprise. “I never mentioned her, but I had a sister. Her name was Wind Rider. Even though she was half my age, we were inseparable. Anywhere one of us went, the other followed. I do something stupid, she'd laugh and help me up. We were the perfect team. As for my mom, she was stern, yet caring. It was hard to get her to have fun, but once she did, she was the craziest one of us all. I loved my family, loved them to pieces.”

“Then one day, we decided to take a train trip across Equestria. It was great. But one night, while everypony was asleep, we jumped the tracks. Everypony in our car woke up and started screaming, as we were falling into a valley. Then it stopped. I blacked out. When I came back to, I was the only one moving. Going over to my dad, I found that he was still breathing. Looking at the front of the car, a fire was burning, coming ever closer. Upside down and with wreckage blocking the door, the only way out was through the window. I kicked one open and hauled dad outside. Crawling back in, my mother was conscious. But there was a large piece of wood crushing her. I didn't have the strength to pick it up.” There were now tears falling down Turbo’s face. “She kept yelling at me to get out, but I told her I wasn't leaving her or Wind Rider. The fire was getting closer, and my fur was starting to singe. Finally, she yelled ‘listen to your mother one last time! Get out!’ I felt somepony grab me and drag me through the broken window, me kicking and screaming the whole time. The stranger set me on the grass next to my father and she restrained me from going back into the car. I started sobbing, and soon I could her my mother screaming in pain. Wind Rider never regained consciousness from the initial crash. I felt the strange pony’s grip loosen, and I made a mad dash towards the wrecked car. Before I could reach it, the engine’s boiler exploded, sending me flying back, and knocking me unconscious.”

“Help arrived from the closest town, and they assisted the few survivors. There was nothing left to bury. My father sank into a depression, only broken with alcohol. One day, he sobered up, and got a job at a factory. Now he owns that factory, a successful pony in every way. But every year on this day, we sit and cry with each other. Celestia, I miss them. I remember it like it happened yesterday. But today, I had a job to do and nearly failed because of personal emotions. If it ever happens again, it could cost my flight their lives.” Turbo looked down at Nimble. Tears were forming at her own eyes. She stood, looked him in the eyes, and hugged him around the neck. It was a tight, comforting embrace, and Turbo lost all control of his emotions. He started sobbing, muffled by Nimble.

“Let it out. Let it all out.” The crying continued. After a solid minute, it subsided. She released her embrace and looked at Turbo. He was a total mess, eyes puffy from crying, dirt and dust on his face washed away in streaks by tears. “I'm sorry.” He rubbed his eyes with his wings.

“I already said, don't be, Nimble. None of it was your fault. Saying sorry won't bring them back. And like I said earlier, I have a job to do. Fulfilling that promise I made to keep you safe.” She chuckled softly.

“Not forgetting that, are you?”

“I keep my promises, and I'll remember it as long as you're on this side of the ground.”

The Big Push

Turbo laid in his bed, tossing and turning. It woke up Nimble, she got up and trotted over to him to calm him down.

“Turbo. Turrrrbo.”

“No, I don't wanna go to school.” He was still asleep.

“Turbo, get up.”

“But mom, the other foals make fun of me!”

“Turbo, get up!” He shot awake, eyes wide, looking for danger. After seeing none, he went back to his sleepy state.

“Hey Nimb. What's going on?”

“What? Nothing. You were just tossing around.”

“Ah. Thanks.” She reached out her wing to help Turbo up and he took it. Stretching himself out, Turbo let loose a huge yawn. “Does the mess have any of that coffee stuff?” Nimble nodded. Coffee was native to Saddle Arabia, but through exports found its way to Equestria. Before the war, he had never tasted coffee. But after three months in Gryphony, he was addicted to the stuff. Coming out of their room into the main foyer, they found Spangled Stars close to a near dead fire, scribbling furiously on a parchment.

“Morning major! Whatcha doin?” Stars didn't even look up.

“A letter to the missus.” Turbo and Nimble exchanged surprised looks.

“Really, we weren't aware that you had a missus.” Still writing quickly, Major Stars responded.

“I do indeed. We have a couple of fillies at home.” Turbo thought for a moment, then decided that Stars would make a good father.

“Well, good luck with that, Major.

“Thanks, you foals have fun yourselves.” Strolling outside, Turbo took a breath of good, fresh air. The weather was beautiful. Glancing to his side, he decided on something special to do today.

“Hey, Nimb?”

“Yeah?”

“You doing anything today?” She stopped.

“No…why?

“Well, would you like to do something?” Great, wonderful. Ten out of ten best wording. Would speak again. You should be glad she likes your antisocial plot or you would be alone in the world. Nimble smiled.

“Of course I would! When and where?” Turbo breathed in relief.

“Well I was thinking…” Suddenly, the air raid siren came to life, groaning out its monotone sound with growing intensity. “And right on cue, here comes the enemy. Rain check?” Nimble laughed and nodded.

“Quick, to the bomb shelters! No time to get airborne!” Out of the clouds came a horde of gryphon bombers. Ponies were running to and fro, with no sense of order. He spied two earth ponies struggling with a heavy AA gun. He dashed over to them.

“No time for that lads! Get to a shelter!” They abandoned the piece, and the three of them made a mad sprint over to the nearest bomb shelter. The low scream of bombs grew closer. The first pony dove in, and then the second. Finally, Turbo jumped into the shelter, closing the door behind him with his wings. Then came earth shattering booming and shaking, followed by nothing but silence and darkness.

“Alright, who's not dead. Roll call!”

“Ergggg.”

The raid did little damage, just a few holes in the lawn and flattened tents. No ponies were killed and only a few were wounded. But it was enough to rattle Union Jack to the bone. He shut down after the raid, a wreck of paranoia and other things. After he ordered 10,000 anti aviation guns for Ironwood, the brass had enough. Much to everypony’s pleasure, he was sacked. A decision was made not to promote Major Stars, as he was a great warrior, so instead Colonel Jack was replaced by somepony else. One normal, overcast, day at Ironwood, a pegasus landed on the field.

“Wonder who that might be,” Camel asked. Turbo shrugged.

“Probably Jack’s replacement. Knowing the REAF’s infinite wisdom, probably somepony who has never commanded troops before.” Whirlpool laughed.

“I've only been on the front for a few weeks, yet somehow, I know it's true.” The stranger took off his flight suit, and to Turbo’s surprise, it revealed a female form familiar to 6th Flight. A light bulb went on in Turbo’s head.

“Well I'll be! That's Hawker Hurricane from training!” Nimble did a double take, and a look of recognition flashed across her face.

“It appears you're right. Let's go say hi!” Hurricane was standing with Major Stars by the armory, chatting. The two presented themselves to her.

“Major Hurricane?” She turned and saw the veterans she once trained.

“Hey guys. Also it's Colonel Hurricane now. No longer the fresh face draftees you once were, eh?” Turbo shook his head.

“Not a chance. Nimble, Cam and myself are certified killers. I'm one away from ace status.” The news must have surprised her.

“I see. How times change. Can I expect the other 5 you guys trained with on the roster?” FLASH! Their first combat replayed in his mind, the one where Lemon Scented died. “Help me!” Then a small cry, then nothing but silence. Turbo cast his head low.

“No ma'am,” Nimble finally replied. “Lemon died on her first time out, Golden Wings got his wing amputated, and nether of us have spoken to Pitch or Stratus for weeks.”

“Sad. Lieutenant, are you alright?” His head was cast low, and Hurricane noticed.

“Yes ma'am. Just having flashbacks. I crawled through Tartarus to bring Wings back.” He perked up. “Anyway, it's good to have you as our CO, ma'am. We know you'll succeed.” The both saluted. Hurricane smiled then trotted away. They turned around as well and walked around tent stakes and ropes.

“You know we have a good pony for the job.”

“Darn tootin.”

“Wait, you're from the Fillydelphia elite. Where'd you learn ’darn tootin’ from?”

6 days later, Colonel Hurricane was fitting her role perfectly. A hard yet soft mare, she listened to the squadron’s complaints and answered them, yet she wasn't afraid to crack the whip. But today was special. Rumors had found their way from the front to Ironwood. The rumor was a big push was going to happen, hopefully snapping the stalemate. It was supported by the fact that for 5 days, Equestrian artillery had been non stop bombarding the Gryphon lines. The personnel of 4 Squadron had been told a VIP was coming to inspect. The night before, they were told that the VIP was none other than Princess Celestia herself. Early in the morning, 4 Squadron stood out in parade formation, waiting for their ruler to arrive.

“I swear Nimble,” Turbo said, still standing at attention. “If you say that the princess is your mother, I will flip.” She chuckled. Last time a VIP visited Ironwood, she had revealed her past, as the VIP was her father.

“No promises.”

Finally, a chariot landed on the field, and out step Celestia. She had a regal flair and was twice the size of even of Turbo, who was larger than the average pony. She strode up and down the lines, occasionally asking Colonel Hurricane something. Eventually, she stood in the direct middle of the formation.

“My little ponies,” she said with a motherly voice. “Tomorrow marks the day of our big push, crushing the gryphons and ending the war. Nothing of theirs could have survived the bombardment. However, air cover is still needed, that's where you come in. Hopefully in two weeks, you will be home with your families. The eyes of Equestria are on you. This will be the closing chapter of this great crusade to keep your homeland safe from harm." Her voice was rising with passion. "May you fly upon the wings of victory! May the wind always be on your back, and luck on your side.” 4 Squadron saluted in unison. And just like that, she got back on her chariot and left.

“I'm honestly not sure if I should feel inspired, anxious, patriotic, brave or fearful right now.” Turbo patted Whirlpool on the haunch.

“Me too buddy, me too.”

The next day, it was overcast with thick clouds. The whole squadron was out, nopony was spared. As soon as the green flare shot up, the low rumble of artillery in the distance ceased. Must be all perfectly timed, Turbo reflected. Off they went, into the wild blue yonder.

Unfortunately, it was not all perfectly timed. The artillery fire stopped ten minutes early. The bombardment was supposed to stop as soon as the infantry went over the top, at 7:30 precisely. Somepony’s watch must have been wrong, because at 7:20, it stopped. Giving Gryphony ten minutes to prepare. The offensive’s commander, General Flanders Fields, was furious.

“What went wrong?! It was supposed to stop at 7:30!” His adjutant sat next to him in the bunker.

“Shall I give the order to halt the offensive?” Flanders shook his head.

“No. We've wasted too much time and ammunition to halt it.”

“Shall I at least tell the infantry to go over the top now?”

“Capital idea.” He grabbed the field telephone, and dialed up the assembly trench. Nothing answered. “Bugger, comm lines must have been hit by artillery.”

“Then what do we do, sir?” Flanders looked out to the front lines.

“We pray, captain.”

“I found the front, sir.”

“Whirlpool, what did I say about calling me sir?!”

“Well si-, Turbo, you said I'm not your commander until we are in the skies.”

“Fine.”

Coming over the front line, they looked down and saw massive amounts of ponies in a large trench, all battle ready.

“I feel like we will be witnessing history. For better or for worse.”

A whistle blew on the ground, and right on cue, thousands of ponies crawled out of the trenches, surging forward.

“Go get the bastards!”

“Cam, please. Keep the intercom clear.” Suddenly, the ponies on the ground started dropping. “What the?” Then the sound reached them. The sound of a hundred machine guns opening fire. Turbo felt sick to his stomach. “Oh Celestia.” The infantry was getting slaughtered without mercy. Hundreds were being hit at once. Immediately, everypony started panicking.

“Oh no!”

“Whatdowedo?!”

“How can we help?!”

“Whatdowedo?!”

“Everypony! Shut up!” Silence was back. “Keep your cool. It pains me to say this, but we provide air cover only. Strafing the gryphon trenches that are full of machine guns is not a good idea. Just stay over the front lines.”

“Yes sir,” the all mumbled, still unable to avert their eyes from the train wreck below.

“Think logically.” Whirlpool was on the intercom. His voice was not normal, obviously he was quite shaken. “They have the survivors pinned down. They should send in artillery or air power. Since their artillery was probably all destroyed, it will likely be air power.” So keep your eyes open. They began searching the skies, looking for enemies.

“There!” Diving out of the sun was a gaggle of gryphons, going straight down. They waited out of sight until they dived past. Once they were below, 4 Squadron descended on them. It was easy pickings. Turbo personally sent one down. Pulling up just over the front, he got a taste of what the infantry was dealing with. The air was thick with bullets. Standing up for more than 5 seconds was certain death. Climbing back into the clouds, he avoided the bullets and found calm. Unfortunately, finding calm meant losing your flight.

“Hey guys, I appear to be lost.” He heard laughs.

“Don't worry, we'll come up to you.” Rejoined by his ponies, they found that all the gryphons were gone. Not just in the sky. They had abandoned their frontline trenches, but they did their damage and had many more lines of fortifications. Landing on clouds, they waited for any sign. Advance, retreat, it didn't matter. As long as they got some sort of signal from Ironwood. Spangled Stars landed on the cloud 6th Flight occupied.

“A counterattack is mounting, we’re gonna strafe them.” The time by then was 12:38, 5 hours after the assault started. Although exhausted, Turbo saluted.

“We'll give them a taste of Tartarus, sir.” Stars flew off, and Turbo gathered his ponies. “C’mon guys. One more job to do. They are about to counterattack, and we are going to deter them. Questions?”

“Yes sir. When are we going back to base?”

“Seriously Cam? You know better than to ask easily answerable questions!” They dived out of their cloud cover and headed for the ground. And there they were. Probably a whole brigade. “Crap. Fire and bounce!” Everypony let off a few bursts and took evasive action. Flak came thick and heavy.

“Watch yourselves, these gunners are on a mission!” Coming around for another pass, the gryphons were huddled down to avoid their fire. It didn't work out like they wanted it to. Flying slowly in, maximizing their time over the enemy, 6th Flight used half their magic on the grunts.

“Alright, RTB.” A sigh of relief came from the intercom. They were heading back, assuming nopony succumbed to exhaustion.

Fortunately, nopony did. Coming back to Ironwood, Whirlpool was still shaken by the slaughter on the ground. Once they came to a stop, he puked.

“You okay?” He nodded, and then puked again. 4 Squadron had ponies missing, apparently a whole flight got shot down. “Who were they?” Turbo asked to Nimble.

“5th Flight.” Turbo sighed. 5th flight had been Stratus’ and Pitch’s flight. Two more friends, two more deaths. Come, no time to mourn them, we are probably going up again. Right on cue, Hurricane came out of the command center.

“All of 4 Squadron had 30 minutes to rest. High command requested more air cover for the push.” 6th flight looked at each other, concerned. Finally, Turbo threw his hooves up in defeat.

“I guess there truly is no rest for the weary.” He looked forebodingly towards the front, knowing that Death was not finished this day.

A Monster

The push had failed. Accounts from the front had grim casualty rates, some units as high as 80%. And for what? One mile. That's all thousands of ponies had died for. 5,280 hooves. Horrible in every conceivable way. Morale was sapped, Turbo could feel it. Ponies walked around with heads cast low, barely speaking to one another. It was dismal. A morale booster was needed, desperately.

“Colonel Hurricane?”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Requesting permission to organize a special event.” Hurricane was clearly interested.

“And that is…?” Turbo put a hoofball on her desk.

“Hoofball, ma'am.” A fire was burning in her eyes.

“Permission granted. Raise a team, but be warned, I'm quite the player.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“You bet your plot it is.” Turbo saluted and trotted out the door. He walked across the field to Brass Beak Manor. In the foyer was most of 4 Squadron’s officers.

“Guys.” Nopony listened. “Hey, ponies.” Still no response. “HEY! LISTEN UP!” All conversations stopped.

“Thank you. We are going to be organizing hoofball teams and a tournament. The winner of 4 Squadron goes on to the others. No prize yet, just bragging rights.” Ponies looked at each other, excitement growing, teams already forming.

“Sign ups will be available in the command center.” A mad dash for the door happened, ponies jockeying for their teams. This was a good idea. An argument broke out, and hooves started flying. Yup, definitely a good idea.

Teams were formed, and not two days after the announcement, nearly everypony, enlisted ponies included, joined one. On Turbo’s team was his flight, a Corporal Land Ship, Flight Officer Moonshine, and Ordnance Sergeant Browning. Turbo was the quarterback, Nimble the running back, Land Ship the center, Sopwith and Moonshine receivers, and Browning and Whirlpool the lineponies.

“And game one is about to begin!” Hurricane bellowed. “The 6th Flight, erm, what does this say Zephyr? Ah yes, the 6th Flight Blitzers, vs the 1st Flight, Fighters!”

Both teams met on what served as the 50 yardline. 6th Flight won the coin toss. Starting at their 25 marker, the game began. Land Ship snapped the ball, it landed right into Turbo's hooves. Faking a hoofoff with Nimble, he scanned the field. Moonshine couldn't out gallop one of their safeties, but Camel was open. Tossing the ball in a beautiful spiral, it dropped exactly where he wanted it. Camel made it another ten yards before being brought down.

“Ready? Hike!” And so began a unstoppable drive, 6th Flight getting 6 touchdowns before the game ended while letting 1st Flight only one.

Two more teams fell before their might, before one final matchup, Hurricane’s team.

They got crushed. Quiet literally. He got sacked more times than he could count. She was a good sport though, and always helped him up.

“Satisfied to say that the morale is lifted, ma'am?”

“I would say so.”

“Lieutenant?”

“Five more minutes mom.”

“Lieutenant, get up, you have a mission.”

“I'm up, I'm up. Is Second Lieutenant Nimble Flight coming up as well?” The enlisted pony checked her roster.

“Yes sir, why?”

Was

“Don't worry about getting her up, she doesn't respond to many ponies.” He sat up and trotted over to Nimble, sleeping peacefully in bed.

“Nimble. Nimmmmmmmble.” They had been officially dating for several weeks, so they had gotten a lot closer. “Nimb, get up.” Still no response. A crazy idea popped into his head. Turbo turned to the private. “If I die doing this, tell my story.”

“Wha?” He gulped.

“Nimble, I'm breaking up with you.”

Her eyes shot open. Before Turbo could explain, or react, her forehooves were on the side of his neck, she yanked his head down, close to her own. Out of seemingly nowhere, she brandished a knife in her wings. His face was inches away and the knife was poking his neck.

“What did you say?!”

“I said I love you and I don't want anything to change!”

“That's what I thought.” Nimble leaned up and gave Turbo a brief kiss.

“Now that that's done, we got a mission.”

“Okey doke.” Holy crap, this mare is crazy! I will go on a missing ponies list if I ever actually break up with her! One the private was out of the room, he gave her a confused look.

“What in the world of Equestria was that?! You nearly killed me!” Nimble walked past, smug look on her face and tail swishing.

“But I didn't.”

“That's besides the bucking point! Do you have some anger that you need to work out?!”

“I can explain everything. The knife, because you never know with the gryphons, and the reaction, well, is personal.” He looked expectantly on. “And I forgot that you will bother me until I tell you. I once loved a stallion, and he loved me back for a while. Then one day, he left me, in the same manner you did to wake me up. It shattered my heart, so I stay vigilant.”

“Makes sense, sorta.”

“And now a question for you.” She pointed an acquisitive hoof at him. “When I had a knife to your throat, you said you loved me. Is it true.” Ah. How do I answer? It is true, but how would she react? Stop thinking! Grow a pair! Still, only two weeks is awfully early. You two have been doing everything together for 6 months!

“Yes it was true.” A rather bashful look crossed Nimble’s face.

“Oh. Well, I, I feel, you should know, uh.” You idiot, this was a bad idea, she's not going for it! “Ah, screw it. I love you too.”

Turbo had the sensation of flying and falling at the same time, like bricks being lifted and a sledgehammer slamming against him. After the initial shock, all he felt was a lifting sensation. A blush spread across his face, more like his entire body. Nimble smiled.

“Easy there, we still got a job to do.”

Annnnnnd back down to Equestria. “Yeah, let's go.”

“Your mission is bomber escort.” Groans echoed throughout the room. Hurricane held her hoof up for silence. “I know some of you hate this, but it is a high priority mission this time. The target, a large factory complex in the city of Grüssendorf. They make guns, bullets, shells, you name it.”

“Will we be back in time for lunch?” Laughs came forth.

“Captain, I don't much appreciate that.” The speaker was Contrail, now mentally recovered and fit for service.

“Yes ma'am.”

“We rendezvous with the bomber formation here at 10 o'clock. Questions?” Nopony raised their hoof. “Good. Take off at 8:30.”

The air had a sharp, cold gust blowing through it. Flying became harder as the cold snapped their breath out of their lungs.

“Bombers in sight!”

The formation was high above them at 11 o'clock. Joining the formation, Turbo unfortunately found the air to be even colder.

“Sweet Celestia! If the temperature drops anymore, my wings will freeze right where they are!”

“Cam, you know what I hear? Blah blah complaining about the cold! Can it!” He had every right to complain, but the intercom had to be clear.

“Well looky there.” Dark spots were flying towards the sun. “Think they're gryphons?”

“Who else could it possibly be?” Turbo switched to the command frequency. “Bogeys 8 o'clock high.”

“Thanks lieutenant.”

Right into the sun. These gryphons are getting better. The escort moved into a position that would counteract any dive.

“And here they are.” Turbo looked directly into the sun. The crisp air was relatively cloudless, and the sun shone brightly. Suddenly, little black dots appeared. “Brace for impact!” Bullets came streaking down. Nopony was hit but their was suddenly enemies in their midst. Turbo soared straight up and rolled over. One of the attackers was flying straight and level, a death sentence in a fur ball. Gotcha.

“TURBO! 12 O'CLOCK HIGH! 12 O'CLOCK HIGH!”

“What? OOFFF!” Crap, it happened again! Just like his first mission, he had suffered from tunnel vision and wasn't checking his rear. Now he was in the deathly embrace of a gryphon. Squirming around, he met face to face with his enemy. The gryphon had fire in his eyes. That fire got extinguished by the cold barrel of Turbo’s MG pressed against his chest. He smiled and shrugged. “Auf Wiedersehen!” The gun fired, and the gryphon went slack.

But his body was still on top of Turbo. “Uh, oh.” He could not free himself from the corpse, the ground getting ever closer. It was deja vu from the last time he had been in the situation. Below him was their target town, Grüssendorf. The bombers had hit their target. Unfortunately, fires were breaking out, catching on nearby houses. One was growing closer. Struggling to free himself, Turbo managed to free the corpse. It flew off into the distance. Looking forward, his ears dropped. A house was right in front of him. “Shi-!” Turbo crashed into a window as was knocked unconscious.

Waking up, Turbo was surrounded by broken glass. He groaned. The house he was in was dilapidated, the roof on the ground and a fire was spreading. Another groan echoed, but it wasn't from the pegasus. Turbo looked up to see a young gryphon, shaking with fear, while her mother was pinned in the wreckage. Her eyes were pleading.

“Helfen mir.” Turbo scrambled to his hooves. Get out of here Turbo! Listen to your mother. He pushed the thought out of his head.

“Eine moment!” The young one stood in his way, putting up a brief resistance.

“Ich helfen deinen Mutter!” She stopped resisting. He inspected the damage. The gryphon’s back half was buried under rubble. There was a beam that could lift the whole thing, but it would be heavy. Turbo decided to try the beam.

“Auf dem abzählen auf drei. Eins.” Turbo began lifting the beam. He grunted in pain from the sheer mass of it. “Zwei.” Getting his wings under the beam, he lifted, nearly out of strength. The beam suddenly got lighter. Looking to his left he saw the young gryphon, putting all her weight into holding it up. “Drei!” With one finally cry, the beam came up enough for the older to crawl out. Turbo helped the gryphon to her claws and she began aggressively kissing his cheeks.

“Danke, danke!” He gently pushed her away, letting her compose herself.

“Bitte, Ich muss gehen. Finde Unterschlupf, schnell.” Climbing up to the hole he smashed in the house, Turbo took a look back. They both had grateful looks on their faces. It made him feel good inside, knowing that in the darkness of war, he had brought light to some lives.

Returning to Ironwood late, everypony assumed that he had died on the raid. Much to everypony’s, especially Nimble’s relief, he made it back alive. When Turbo told them his tale, Camel brought something to his attention.

“Turbo, you're an ace.”

“Come again?

“Ten kills, acehood.”

“Oh, yeah. How bout that.” Younger Turbo, and indeed 1 year ago Turbo would have been ecstatic. Acehood! The best achievement you've gotten in your life! You are now some of the best of the best! But veteran and experienced killer Turbo knew the truth. Is this something to celebrate, proficiency of ending lives!? You disgust me. A hoof landed on his shoulder, startling him.

“Turbo, you okay?”

“What? Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing Applejack Daniels can't help.”

Arriving at the officers’ club, Camel made an announcement, against Turbo’s wishing. He stood on the bar.

“Mares and stallions, your attention please!” Everypony stopped what they were doing and looked up.

“Celestia give me strength,” Turbo muttered under his breath.

“Please help me in celebrating the REAF’s newest ace!” He gestured to Turbo, and everypony started clapping. He raised his head, put on a fake smile, and took in the applause. Fighting Falcon, a regular and 5 Squadron’s major, came over and order a whiskey. He slid it over to Turbo, and he gratefully slurped it down.

“So lad, how does it feel.” Turbo leaned his head down on the bar.

“What, the the whiskey or ace status.”

“Which one do. you think I mean.” He sighed.

“It feels awful, knowing that I'm good at killing.” Falcon threw his wing around him in a fatherly way.

“Aye, but that's part of war. Just don't think about it.” Turbo scoffed.

“And how can I do that when I'm surrounded by death?” Fighting Falcon gestured to his glass.

“Drink.”

“Sir, that is horrible advice. I don't want to come home a broken pony.”

“Even more than you already are?” The words stung. He stood, thanked the bartender, and headed out. That left Turbo alone to his thoughts. If I were to come home now, what would they see? What would they think? How different am I? How much has war changed me?

The next day found 6th Flight in the air. Their mission was line patrol. Search friendly lines and look for trouble. Simple enough.

“Bandits, 12 High!” Looking up, there was a swarm of gryphons out to intercept them.

“Dive away! Get out of their lines of fire!” 6th Flight split and each went separate ways. The gryphons joined the mix, trying to single out small, fast ponies. Once a bit away from the swarm, 6th Flight rejoined each other and flew towards the enemy, guns blazing. Everypony brought one down. Turbo shot out his hoof at a near gryphon, catching him in the beak. He cried out in pain. Confusion reigned. It was impossible to pick out friend from foe. Suddenly, Whirlpool cried out. The limp form of a pegasi dropped down and landed in the ground.

“No!” Turbo dived as fast as he could, arriving next to Whirlpool in a matter of seconds. He was riddled with bullets. Blood everywhere. Whirlpool was still alive, barely. He reached out a bloody, shaking hoof, and touched Turbo on the forehead. Finally, his breath stopped, and his hoof slid down Turbo’ face, leaving a bloody mark. Dropping his body, he looked at his hooves and started breathing heavily.

Keep it together. Keep it together! For brief seconds, blood appeared and disappeared on his hooves. Mental replays of Lemon’s death, Golden’s fall from grace, and every other squadron mate’s death he witnessed started flying through his head. 5 gryphons landed in a circle around him, intent on finishing Turbo. His breathing picked up. Think of yesterday's Turbo! Doing good! Spreading light over the darkness of war! However, that voice was being drowned out by another.

Take revenge. Kill. KILL. KILL. KILL! Suddenly, everything seemed calm. His breathing steadied. Turbo opened his eyes. The gryphons stepped back. They could see something in his eyes. Pure bloodlust. With a mighty roar, he brought his machine gun up. The nearest gryphon had time for nothing. Turbo poured a 5 second burst into him. Fire still in his eyes, he wheeled around and started dropping the others. The last one fired some shots and began to flee. The bullets damaged his gun, but Turbo didn't need it for the gryphon. Still roaring, he flew up and caught the gryphon. Forcing him down, Turbo began to stomp the life out of his victim.

“Die, die, DIE!” With one final smash, the gryphon’s head broke open, spilling blood. He began to huff, stopping when he realized what he did. Resisting the urge to throw up, he turned to see Nimble hovering nearby. All the other gryphons had fled with fear. But Nimble was staring at him. Pure shock and horror plastered on her face. She had seen a monster, and Turbo knew he was the monster.

Questions and Replacements

“Lieutenant Turbofan, explain, to the best of your ability, what in Celestia’s name happened?!” He began to wilt from Hurricane’s gaze, but steeled himself and looked her directly in the face.

“My apologies ma'am. I just lost another friend, and I lost my cool.”

“Lost your cool?” Hurricane said. “Turbo, this report from Sub Lieutenant Nimble said you broke a gryphon's skull open!” He hung his head low. She finally just sighed.

“I won't report this incident, because we need every flyer we can get.” He looked up with hope. “But, if this happens again, you will be court martialed. We need warriors, not berserkers.”

“Yes ma'am , you make yourself clear.”

“Good, now go away and wash yourself off.” Turbo looked down, not knowing what she was talking about. Blood was still thick on his hooves, and a wave of nausea passed over him. He contained it, and went hurriedly to the nearest shower. Furiously, he scrubbed his hooves, soap in his wings. But try as he might, Turbo couldn't get the blood off. He stopped, to catch is breath. Turbo looked up, right into a mirror. What looked back was himself, but not quite. The “monster” was looking back. He fell backwards in surprise and shock.

“No.” The image tilted its head in confusion. “This is not you. You are not a monster.” He got back up to his hooves, and stared into the mirrors. “You are not a monster!” he said with more force. Aren't you? It was a voice inside of his head, but it felt real. Turbo looked around in confusion.

Think about it. Every life you've ended. Memories started flying into his head, depicting every kill he had. Listen, I'll always be here, part of you. Waiting for my chance. And like that, the voice was gone. Taking a look into the mirror, his face was his own. Looking down at his hooves, they were clean and bloodless, but scrubbed almost raw. I'll be looking for my chance to escape. From that point, he vowed never to give it that chance.

“Look, Nimb, that wasn't me. That was the war taking over my brain. Please, it won't happen again. I'd sooner kill myself than endanger my comrades with an outburst of rage.” She remained unmoved. “I was a dangerous beast, but I shoved it down, it will never emerge again.”

“You need to promise me that.”

“What?”

“Promise me that the monster won't emerge, ever, ever again, Turbo ”

“With Celestia as my witness, you have my word.” She wrapped her forelegs around him.

“Good, I like you better like this.” Nimble gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Now let's go, our replacements here.” Turbo made that face of somepony who just ate something sour. “I know you hate it, but we need to.” With a huff, they went to collect their new comrade. Out on the field was a medium sized pegasus, the colors of a royal guard.

“Well, here goes nothing.”

“I'm right behind you.” They both approached. The pony stiffened to attention.

“Sir! Flight Officer Trade Winds reporting for duty, sir!” The pony nearly screamed it. When he could sufficiently hear again Turbo finally replied.

“At ease, Trade Winds. I'm Turbo, 6th Flight commander. This is my first, Nimble.” He was obviously struck by the beauty of the mare. “Hehe, don't bother with her. Come, I'll show you around.” From the tour of Ironwood, Turbo had Trade Winds figured out.

A strong, but at the same time smart stallion, sharp and with a quick wit. The kind of pony that would be good in the skies. He had a brother, who was an infantry pony in the trenches.

“4 Squadron, scramble!”

“And just as I was enjoying the quiet,” Turbo muttered to himself. “Typical.” He and the other flight leads galloped over to Hurricane, who was on a field telephone.

“Bomber intercept. 10,000 hooves. Go!”

No other explanation was needed. Soon they were airborne.

“Alrighty, now that we're airborne, here are some rules for you Winds.” Nimble was about to interject, probably something about keeping the intercom clear but Turbo cut her off.

“I'm listening sir!”

“When it comes to bombers, always attack from under or in front off, rarely from the sides. You come from above or behind, the gunner will kill you quicker than you can say ‘ow’.”

“Go it.”

“Now the opposite for fighters. Always attack from above or behind, rarely from the side and never from the front or under.”

“Yes sir.” Silence was brief.

“And there they are.” Above them was a beautiful formation, undeterred by the sight of the interceptors. Giving a quick burst into one, Turbo stopped his climb and rolled under them. His victim didn't go down. Turbo cursed and stopped all forward momentum. He began to tumble, but he caught himself. Coming just under the bomber, he poured bullets into the craft. Debris flew in the air, and with one last lurch, it began the final dive. Suddenly bullets flew past his head. Craning his neck, Turbo saw two gryphons behind him, coming in for the final kill.

“I need some help here!” Turbo called into the intercom. He tucked in his wings and began diving at max speed. The pursuers followed suit.

“I'm having trouble over here myself!” exclaimed Nimble as she rolled over their formation, dodging streams of bullets. There was one move Turbo had not yet tried. He spread his wings, creating large amounts of drag to slow him down. One of the gryphons shot past, the other recovered itself in time. Turbo dispatched the one fleeing, and turned his attention to the other. She was coming directly at him, spraying bullets. He dived away and rose back to intercept. The gryphon predicted the move, and positioned herself accordingly. Turbo abandoned the climb and banked hard right. He shot past his attacker before she could react.

Suddenly breaking out of the bank and climbing up at a 90 degree angle, Turbo turned to see the gryphon trying to follow. Just as quick as he climbed, he dived, barrel rolling to spoil the gryphon’s aim. She stopped her climb and dived faster than Turbo anticipated. Pulling an Split-S, he had shaken the gryphon off his tail, but she found her way back on. Turbo had one more trick up his flight jacket though. Flying straight and as fast as he could, Turbo faked a dive, rolling around, decreasing speed until the gryphon was in front of him. Turbo smiled. Gotcha. With a quick burst, she went down. The bombers had turned tail, and yet again, the REAF was victorious.

Back at Ironwood, Colonel Hurricane was waiting for 4 Squadron to return, she was going to promote somepony. The most likely choice was Turbo, as he had experience and skill on his side. On the other hoof, there were more stable ponies to accept the job.

“What to do, what to do.” She compared the files of Turbo and a lieutenant named Beechcraft.

“Ma'am, 4 Squadron inbound.” Her aide was speaking through an open window.

“Thank you Zephyr. Ah, buck it, I've made up my mind.”

The base approached, normal as ever. Ground crew scrambled to get ready to receive the flyers. Once on the ground, Turbo found Hurricane waiting by the armory. He saluted.

“At ease, Turbo.” His muscles relaxed.

“Do you want to see me, ma'am?”

“In fact I do.” Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a set of two silver bars. “These are yours. Congratulations, Captain.” Turbo was dumbstruck.

“Ih-you're-I’m being promoted?” Hurricane just chuckled.

“Yes you are.”

“I don't know what to say except thank you!”

“No problem, you deserve it.” A bit of guilt panged through his head. Do I though? “I think you should go celebrate, captain. Oh, wait.” She fished out more bars, a lieutenant’s set. “Those are for Nimble.

“Yes ma'am. Thank you ma'am.” He galloped off to tell the others. He bumped into Nimble.

“Why are you so excited?” Still smiling, he pointed to the silver. She gave him a hug, and offered her congratulations.

“But I'm not done. These are for you.” Turbo opened his wings and handed the bars to Nimble. “Congratulations yourself, Lieutenant.” She smiled a huge one back.

“Thank you sir. And I wanted to mention something about this.” She undid a crumpled flyer, and presented it to Turbo.

Princess Celestia cordially invites any and all officers of Her Majesty's Services to a ball held the weekend of May 9th, in honor of the Grand Galloping Gala, which ponies overseas are not able to attend. The ball will be held in the city of Federburg in the Imperial Courthouse.

“Well, how bout that? Why'd you show me?” She put her front hoof in her face.

“Isn't it obvious?” Nimble playfully punched his foreleg. “I want to go with you.”

“Oh. Well, sure! It will be fun!” She smiled.

“May 9th, don't you forget it!” Turbo chuckled. It would be a good night.

In the officers’ club, everypony went about their business. A low murmur of conversation was in the air. Turbo was at the bar, drinking cider instead of Applejack Daniels.

Suddenly, the phonograph in the corner came to life. A familiar tune came belting out. A song written a few years ago in Canterlot called “A Long Way to Tipperary” had recently become popular, and everypony knew the chorus. After a sentence about a pony getting excited, shouting from the heavens and an extended musical note, everypony looked at each other and grinned. Suddenly, 100 sang out at once.

“Well it's a long way, to Tipperary! It's a long way, to go! It's a long way, to my Honey! To the sweetest mare I know! Goodbye, Ponyville! Farewell Canterlot! It's a long long way to Tipperary, but my heart’s, not far!”

Everypony laughed and high hoofed each other. For a group of warriors, the singing was good. Even though there was a female presence, the stallions outnumbered them and gave the song a baritone sound. Turbo couldn't hide his grin.

“There is no group like flyers, is there Falcon?” The veteran was smiling himself.

“In my experience, there is not!”

Back inside their room, Nimble asked a simple question.

“Do you know how to dance?” It caught Turbo off guard.

“No, why?” She flew over to his bed.

“So you don't make a fool of yourself at the ball!”

“Isn't it just improvised?” She laughed.

“C’mon. Get up. I'll teach you.” Begrudgingly, Turbo climbed out of bed and stood on his hind legs.

“Alright, you ready? Take my left hoof with your left, your other one around my waist.” The positioning was awkward, but he didn't complain, yet. “Now, begin moving right, and start wheeling around.”

“What?”

“Just follow my lead.” As gracefully as possible with a learner, they swung about the room. Suddenly, Turbo felt a crack in his right rear hoof and fell.

“C’mon, get up and try again.”

“This is stupid,” he muttered under his breath. Nimble must of had 20/20 hearing, because she was able to hear him.

“If you can be a lord of the sky, you can learn how to dance.”

“I'd rather be dancing around through the sky.” Turbo fell again, with an ow, again. All night long, “thud, ow, thud, ow.” But late into the night, he finally got the hang of it. With newfound skill, they began waltzing around their quarters, ending in one final embrace. Being within inches of each other, blushes spread across faces. Turbo cleared his throat.

“Call it a night?” Nimble just nodded. Gingerly, he pried himself from the mare, and once free, trotted to his bed. After turning off the lights, he fell into a deep sleep, warmer and better than any other.