Wild Blue Yonder

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."