Wild Blue Yonder

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.