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