Wings of Ascension

by Zontan

Rating: teen
Tags: Alternate Universe, Rainbow Dash, Tank, Fluttershy, Science Fiction, Profanity, Adventure, Violence, Spitfire, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 9140

Rainbow Dash just wants to prove she's a real racer. But when she fakes her way into a national competition, she'll learn that maybe she should have been more careful what she wished for.

Rainbow Dash is just trying to get by. Life is hard in the city, especially when you can't afford top of the line upgrades. Racing has always been her dream, and if she can just prove she's good enough, sponsorships and prize money mean she can live like she's always wanted to.

But there are always setbacks, and she'll need help to make it big. And if she does, she may discover it's not at all like she hoped it would be.

Chapter 1 was my entry for the 21st Quills and Sofas Speedwriting contest. The prompt was "Good luck charm." The first chapter was written in an hour. Everything afterwards was the universe being too interesting to abandon.

Published 2019-11-23 20:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-04-30 03:44:15 UTC

A Familiar Face

A pale street light illuminated the entrance to the alley in a pool of hazy light, piercing through the gray of the city. The rest of the street was dark, save for a flickering neon sign that advertised a building as CyberPone. From the burly earth pony watching the door and the muted thumping sound from inside, it was probably a club.

Rainbow gave it a wide berth as she slipped into the alley, the sound of her hooves echoing off the cobblestones. The bouncer watched her go, and she shrank further into her hoodie, as if that might make him forget about her presence. At least it kept her from standing out too glaringly in this part of the city.

She stopped in front of a heavy unmarked metal door. She raised one hoof to knock, the clang of metal on metal echoing around her. There was no immediate answer, so she knocked again. “Open up!” she called out. “It’s me, Fluttershy!”

After a moment, the door shuddered and then swung inward on greased hinges, making no sound until Rainbow stepped through and it slammed shut behind her.

The building she had stepped into was dark and expansive, but there was a single source of light shining from the back, through rows of shelves filled with pieces of metal and half-finished projects. Rainbow stepped cautiously forward, and nearly jumped out of her skin as an angry squeak pierced the darkness next to her ear.

She spun and crouched, wings flaring in preparation for hasty flight, when she saw what had made the noise through the gloom. The mechanical rabbit stepped up to the edge of the shelf it was standing on and squeaked again, glaring up at her with glowing red eyes.

Rainbow relaxed. “Damnit, Angel, you scared the crap out of me,” she muttered, tucking her wings carefully back into place. The rabbit squeaked again, and then hopped onto her back, soon climbing up to her shoulder. Rainbow grinned. “I don’t need an escort,” she admonished, but didn’t dislodge the construct as she made her way towards the light once more.

Other devices scuttled and clattered through the warehouse as she went, but none bothered her when they saw the seneschal on her shoulder. Each was fashioned after an animal of some sort, some real, others less so.

Finally she reached the workbench at the back. The pegasus she was here to see crouched over it, her wings arched forward so the multi-pronged mechanical manipulators that had replaced her pinions could do their work. Her one true eye flicked up to watch Rainbow’s approach, while the metal and glass one continued to focus on her work. It looked like she was building a bat, or perhaps even a tiny dragon.

“What is it, Rainbow?” Fluttershy asked without preamble. “We’re closed, and you know it’s dangerous here at night.”

Rainbow fidgeted awkwardly. “Yeah, I know, but it’s an emergency. The big race is tomorrow, you see—”

“I thought you didn’t qualify.”

Rainbow’s ears burned. “Well, I mean, not technically, I guess.”

Fluttershy sighed. “Whatever scheme you’ve come up with, I don’t want any part of it.”

Rainbow half spread her wings, indignant. “You haven’t even heard it!”

Fluttershy hmphed. “I don’t need to. You’re planning to do something stupid, and you want one of my critters to help you do it. Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get into? How much trouble I could get into if I helped?”

Rainbow shook her head quickly. “No no, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m not asking you to do anything illegal, I swear.”

Fluttershy narrowed her one true eye, but allowed Rainbow to continue.

“Look, I have a plan to get in—you probably don’t want to hear it, I get it. I just… I need something for the race. A familiar. There’s gonna be Wonderbolts competing, and they’ve all got the best augments. I’ve just got my wings.” She spread her wings again, splaying the pristine, natural feathers for display. “I know I can do it. But I can't go into a race like this without a familiar. I swear, I would have come earlier, but I didn’t… well, I didn’t think I was gonna be able to get in.”

Fluttershy shook her head, finally pulling her wings back and pushing the project she was working on to the side. “Even if I ignore how stupid and reckless you’re being, what makes you think I have anything on such short notice?”

Rainbow scoffed. “You’re the best. You always have something.”

Fluttershy sighed again. “Rainbow, I know this is important to you, but I don’t have racing familiars just lying around ready to go. Even if I did, you couldn’t afford them, and even if you could, I wouldn’t want to sell one to you. If they thought one of my critters was doing anything illegal, they’d come and shut me down. I can’t take the risk.”

Rainbow stamped her hoof. The metal clanged against the concrete floor. “You’ve loaned me stuff before! I’ll return it, promise. Nothing bad will happen.” She stepped forward, and lowered her head. “Please, Fluttershy. I need this.”

Fluttershy opened her mouth to refuse again, but paused. Angel was looking at her, eyes dimmed. It let out a soft, pleading squeak as it met her gaze. Fluttershy took a moment to rub her temple. “You’re going to get us both arrested,” she muttered under her breath, before stepping out into the maze of shelves. “Let me see what I can do.”

Rainbow popped her head back up, her face beaming. “Thank you! You’re a lifesaver. You won’t regret this, I promise.”

“I’m already regretting it,” Fluttershy shot back as she rummaged through her stores. “I told you, I don’t have a racing familiar ready to go, and there’s no way I could finish one before tomorrow. You’ll have to take what I can find, okay?”

Rainbow nodded. “That’s fine! Totally cool! Whatever you have, I’m sure it’s perfect.”

Fluttershy grunted acknowledgement, and vanished deeper into the stacks. There was a clattering sound, a muttered curse, and then silence. Finally, Fluttershy emerged once more, something wrapped in one wing. “Here,” she said, thrusting it towards Rainbow. It whirred to life, looking up at her with pinprick lights that glowed green.

Rainbow blinked. “That’s a turtle.”

“Tortoise, actually,” Fluttershy corrected, looking down at the little mechanical shell and caressing it lovingly. “It’s the best I have.”

Rainbow shook her head. “Fluttershy, I need a racing familiar. Something that can keep up with me. That thing can’t even fly.”

Fluttershy looked somewhat smug. “Are you sure?” She waved a hoof encouragingly at the tortoise. “Go on, show her.”

The tortoise raised its head, and then with another whir, a hole opened in its shell and a pair of tiny propellers rose out of it. They spun to life, and the tortoise sprung into the air, hovering expectantly.

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine, it can fly. But I need something awesome! How am I supposed to compete with Wonderbolts with that?”

“I thought you said you would take whatever I had.”

“Well, yeah, but I thought you’d offer me something, y’know… cooler.”

Fluttershy hmphed. “Tank is a state-of-the-art command and control familiar. He can monitor vitals, analyze your opponent’s strategy, give advice, and keep an eye out for trouble. He’s faster than he looks, and most importantly, he has no hacking ability whatsoever. At the very least I’ll be able to claim I didn’t know what you were doing with him if you get caught.” Fluttershy reached up to let Tank land in her hoof, and then offered him to Rainbow again, glaring. “And furthermore, he’s what I’ve got. Take it or leave it.”

Rainbow gulped. She knew better than to argue with Fluttershy when she looked like that. “Alright, alright, fine.” Hesitantly, she took the tortoise, and it made a happy beep, nuzzling into her neck. “I… uh, I guess it is kind of cute.”

Fluttershy smiled, before stepping forward and touching her forehead to Rainbow’s. “He’ll bring you good luck,” she said softly. “Just don’t get into any trouble, alright?”

Rainbow smirked. “When have you known me to get into trouble?”

“Every day since the day I met you.”

Rainbow wilted. “Fair enough.”

Fluttershy chuckled. “Alright, go on then. You should get some rest before it gets too late. I hear you have a big day tomorrow.”

Rainbow nodded, suddenly on edge. “Oh! Right. Right. Of course. Thanks again, Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy shooed the other pegasus away with one hoof, and watched as she made her way back towards the door. “And bring him back in one piece!” she called after them.

But as Rainbow raised a hoof in acknowledgement and then watched the tortoise float around her head, Fluttershy quietly smiled to herself. They would make a good team. Rainbow needed something to keep her out of trouble.

She didn’t think she was getting Tank back. But then again, that had been the idea.

The Canter 300

Rainbow arrived at the arena early the next day, a bundle of nervous energy wrapped up in a gray hoodie. Her gaze quickly swept across the massive main entrance and the excited crowd, taking it all in but not feeling like a part of it. It wasn’t the entrance she wanted to be standing at, but it was the only one that wasn’t guarded.

She stepped into the line for pegasi and earth ponies, and after an interminable wait she was finally at one of the automated entrance gates. She scanned the screen in front of her, and selected the option at the very bottom: GENERAL ADMISSION: STANDING ROOM ONLY - 45 BITS.

She gulped, her hoof hovering anxiously just out of range of the scanner. That was as much as she made in two weeks, and most of her savings. If this didn’t work, she’d be hard pressed to make rent this month.

It’s going to work, she told herself fiercely. First prize is ten thousand bits. Win this, and you’ll never have to worry about money again. With that settled, she pressed her metal hoof up to the scanner. There was a beep, TRANSACTION APPROVED appeared briefly on the screen, and the gate in front of her slid open.

Rainbow slipped into the crowd on the other side, most of them making a beeline towards the stands to make sure they got good spots. Rainbow, on the other hoof, drifted towards the wall, anxiously looking around before ducking into a side corridor. Inset into the wall was a heavy door, marked with big block letters: RESTRICTED ACCESS. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

Rainbow held up her hoof, and a slot opened in the side. A small ID card slipped out, a mechanical gripper holding it flat against the frog of her hoof. She pressed it to the door’s scanner. “Come on come on come on,” she muttered, and then there was a beep and the door slid open. “Yes!” she hissed, ducking inside.

A flick of her hoof retracted the stolen ID, and after another moment she had projected a map of the area in front of her. It took her a second to find her location, and the path through the service areas to the waiting room where the racers would be gathering. But once she had, she crept forward cautiously, her heart hammering in her chest. This was the most dangerous part of the plan. If she ran into another employee in here, she had no way to explain her presence.

After a nerve-wracking few minutes, she reached another door. She hadn’t run into anyone. Everything was going to be fine. She lowered her hood, and Tank poked his head up out of it, green eyes scanning the room they were in. Rainbow reached into a pocket and pulled out a visor, affixing it behind her ears and setting the eyepiece into place over one eye. Without an ocular implant like Fluttershy had, this was the best she could do.

“Alright,” she muttered, twisting around to look at Tank. “Time to see what you can do.”

The tortoise nodded, floating up out of her hood on silent propellers, and extended a cable out from his shell, hooking it into a port on Rainbow’s visor. A moment later, the connection had been established, and the cable withdrew.

Immediately, readouts appeared on Rainbow’s HUD. BPM, blood pressure, body heat, and more. At the bottom, a simple line of SUMMARY: HEALTHY told her all she really needed to know. “Cool,” she breathed.

She shrugged her way out of the hoodie, stretching her wings and then stuffing the garment into a corner. She didn’t need it anymore, and she likely wouldn’t be coming back for it anyway. Beneath, she wore a sleek racing suit, a blue that matched her fur, with her personal insignia on the shoulder—a three-colored lightning bolt jutting out of a cloud. The rest of the suit was plain, so long as she lacked sponsorships.

She stepped up to the door, pressing an ear against it to make sure there was nopony on the other side. Hearing nothing, she opened it and stepped through. Finally, she was where she was meant to be—the part of the stadium set aside for the actual racers. Her heart thrilled at the thought. She was finally, really here.

She looked in both directions, and was about to pull up the map again when it simply appeared in her vision. It rotated as she turned, maintaining the correct orientation, and her position on it was marked, along with a dotted line that led to the waiting room. “Sweet,” Rainbow murmured.

It was only a few moments before Rainbow stepped through the doorway, Tank floating close behind. The waiting room was more of a lounge than anything else. Couches dotted the room, and there were several tables full of food and drinks. Other racers milled around, some talking or eating, others doing pre-flight stretches. Rainbow recognized most of them only from videos.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Rainbow Crash.”

Rainbow recognized the voice immediately, but even if she hadn’t, a summary of Spitfire’s public bio had already appeared on her visor. She turned, resisting the urge to flee. “Spitfire,” she replied, trying to keep her voice even.

Spitfire smirked at her, flanked by a few other Wonderbolts. All of them wore ocular implants, and several—including Spitfire—sported state-of-the-art fiberglass wings, lighter and stronger than anything flesh and blood. Spitfire’s racing suit showed her stylized flame insignia prominently, and was covered in other logos, interspersed between the racing stripes that flowed down her neck, along her back, and then up to the tips of her wings. It was a striking effect that made the suit seem to be a part of her, instead of just an outfit.

“I thought you flunked the qualifiers,” Spitfire continued, eliciting a laugh from her lackeys.

Rainbow flushed. “Well, you thought wrong!” she shot back hotly. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Spitfire raised an eyebrow. “So you are.” She shrugged. “So long as you stay out of the way of the real racers, I suppose if you want to embarrass yourself in front of thousands of ponies, I’m not going to stop you.”

Rainbow let out a rumbling growl before she even realized she was doing it. “I am a real racer!” she protested. “And I’ll prove it when I win this whole thing!”

That got another burst of laughter from the Wonderbolts, loud enough that several other ponies in the room took note of the conversation, watching and murmuring to each other. Rainbow tried to ignore them.

Spitfire soon recovered from her mirth. “You, win? Rookies don’t win the Canter 300. They fill out the ranks and hope to look pretty enough to get a sponsor. And you definitely won’t manage that if you crash and burn trying to win.” She took a step closer, putting a hoof right in Rainbow’s face. “And let me be very clear. If you come anywhere near me while we’re in the air, I will shut you down so hard you won’t fly straight for a week. Got it?”

Rainbow gulped, and couldn’t find the words to respond.

Spitfire took that as assent, lowering her hoof and stepping away. Her gaze flicked briefly over Rainbow’s shoulder, and as she turned she added, “And that goes double for your pet rock.” And then she was gone, and Rainbow didn’t have anything clever to say in her wake.

Rainbow spent an uncomfortable amount of time in the corner of the lounge, avoiding eye contact with everypony there. Her mind was crowded with doubts, her confidence shaken by her encounter with Spitfire. What if the Wonderbolt was right, and she had no chance? What if she proved to everyone that the qualifiers weren’t a fluke, and she didn’t deserve to be here?

What if she failed?

She was interrupted from her thoughts by a blinking alert in the corner of her HUD. As soon as she flicked her gaze to it, a message began scrolling across her vision, adjusting automatically to her reading speed.

ANALYSIS OF COMPETITION COMPLETE. COMPETITORS HAVE MORE EXPERIENCE, STRONGER WINGS, AND ADVANCED EQUIPMENT. MANY ALSO SHOW SIGNS OF PERFORMANCE-ENHANCING DRUGS. YOU WILL

Rainbow stopped reading. “What!” she hissed, quickly lowering her voice to a whisper as a nearby pony looked at her. “That’s against the rules. Shouldn’t they be disqualified?”

MY ANALYSIS IS INSUFFICIENT PROOF OF WRONGDOING. NOR IS IT LIKELY THAT RACE OFFICIALS WOULD LISTEN TO YOUR TESTIMONY, GIVEN YOUR STATUS AS AN ILLEGAL PARTICIPANT.

“...good point,” Rainbow muttered.

YOU WILL NEED TO LEVERAGE CONSIDERABLE TACTICS TO SUCCEED IN THIS VENTURE. HOWEVER, BETWEEN YOUR RAW TALENT AND MY SUPERIORITY TO OTHER FAMILIARS PRESENT, I BELIEVE THERE IS A REAL POSSIBILITY OF FINISHING IN THE TOP TWENTY PERCENT OF COMPETITORS.

Rainbow did some quick math. If there were thirty racers… “Sixth?” she whispered under her breath. “You think that the best I can do is sixth?”

SIXTH IS AN IMPRESSIVE FINISH FOR A ROOKIE WITH NO PRIOR MAJOR LEAGUE RACES. THE HIGHEST A ROOKIE HAS EVER PLACED IN THIS COMPETITION IS THIRD. BASED ON PREVIOUS TRENDS, ANY ROOKIE FINISHING IN THE TOP HALF OF COMPETITORS IS VERY LIKELY TO ATTRACT SPONSORSHIP.

Rainbow sighed softly. “Well… I guess the prize for sixth isn’t half bad,” she grumbled.

YOU ARE HIGHLY UNLIKELY TO RECEIVE ANY PRIZE MONEY.

“What.”

YOU ARE NOT REGISTERED. EVEN IN THE EVENT THAT YOU FINISH THE RACE AND ARE NOT IMMEDIATELY ARRESTED FOR YOUR PARTICIPATION, YOU ARE NOT ELIGIBLE FOR ANY PRIZES.

Rainbow sat down, hard. In retrospect, it seemed obvious, but some part of her had been convinced if she just showed everypony how good she was, it wouldn’t matter. “But… I needed…” she trailed off, sitting stunned for a moment before her face hardened with new resolve. “No. Y’know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m here, and I’m going to race, and I’m going to be awesome, and even if they arrest me it’s all everypony will be talking about.”

THAT’S THE SPIRIT.

Further conversation was interrupted by an announcement blaring into the room. “Racers, to the starting line. Repeat, racers to the starting line. The race begins in ten minutes.”

Rainbow stood up, stretched her wings, and cracked her neck. It was go time.

Rainbow kept to the back of the pack as the assembled pegasi stepped out into the arena. As she crossed the threshold, the sounds of the audience hit her like a physical thing. Thousands of ponies, cheering their hearts out. Cheering for her. The thought made her tremble, heart beating in her ears, but she pushed forward anyway. Thoughts of what would happen if she burned out battled for dominance in her head with the idea of the idolization she would receive if she did well.

She took a moment to gawk at the arena as she walked. She’d seen videos of races held here, of course, but she’d never been inside it. It was massive, so big that the ponies on the other end of the stands were nothing but multicolored blurs. The starting line was clearly marked nearby, but that was about all that was clear - the building was many stories tall, and the entire airspace was strewn with walls, tunnels, and obstacles of all sorts.

The configuration of the arena changed with every race, and the colored rings telling the racers what path to take wouldn’t appear until the race began. Mapping out the turns and determining flight lines had to be done on the fly, and processing the necessary information at speed was what racing familiars were for. Rainbow hoped Tank would be up to the task.

The racers took their starting marks, and now Rainbow was glad she had hung back. There were thirty marks, each one emblazoned with a digital image of that racer’s insignia on the ground, and a floating, holographic readout of that racer’s name, age, and notable accomplishments above their head.

Rainbow didn’t have a mark. She froze in place, watching as the slots filled up. Soon, there would be none left, and it would be patently obvious to everyone that she didn’t belong. “What do I do?” she hissed at Tank in a panicked whisper.

ONE MOMENT.

Tank floated up above her head, surveyed the situation, and then flew to where a thirty-first mark would be, if the pattern continued. A tiny projector emerged from his shell, and in a moment her insignia was on the ground, along with a floating biography, just like all the other racers.

YOUR MARK.

Rainbow stepped hesitantly into place, fidgeting nervously. A few of the nearby racers were looking at her oddly—even with Tank’s projection, it was clear something was amiss. Fortunately, all the racers at the back were fellow rookies, and they didn’t say anything to object. Spitfire was way up front in pole position, and had eyes only for the race in front of her. For once, Rainbow was glad for the lack of attention.

As the timer to the start of the race ticked down, the nearby racers shrugged off the oddity of her placement. The roar of the crowd washed over Rainbow, and she found herself relaxing, nervousness being replaced with adrenaline. A thrill of pride ran through her as she looked up at her profile floating over her head, as she scanned the nearest spectators and saw them looking at her as they stamped and screamed.

The announcer said something, but the speakers were pointed at the crowd and Rainbow couldn’t hear it. Before them, a holographic screen counted down the last thirty seconds to the start of the race. Rainbow stretched her wings, lowering her stance and bracing against the ground, ready to push off. Ten seconds. The walls in front of them lit up in neon colors, and the first ring appeared, more following behind it. Almost immediately, several paths through them appeared in her visor, color-coded by level of risk. Five seconds. The screen faded away, leaving just the flashing number, counting down. Three. Two. One.

With a blaring horn and the crack of dozens of wings moving at once, they were off. Immediately, there was chaos. The Wonderbolts in the front pulled smoothly ahead, falling into formation in Spitfire’s slipstream. Behind them, the rookies all fought to be in front at once in a maelstrom of flailing limbs.

Alerts appeared across Rainbow’s vision, warning her of incoming collisions before she could see them. No longer was Tank sending her long, written messages—she didn’t have time for them. Instead, her HUD was filled with icons showing incoming threats, pointing out holes that she could slip through, and of course, the ever-adjusting ideal line to follow to hit the next ring.

By the time she’d made it out of the whirl of feathers and hooves, the competitors had been strung out along the path of the race. Rainbow couldn’t even see the Wonderbolts anymore, and more than a few rookies had missed a ring in the initial confusion and been forced to backtrack. She felt the beginnings of a bruise forming on her barrel where somepony had kicked her in the confusion, but she ignored it. Instead, she focused on the line of ponies in front of her, straining her wings as she slowly gained on them.

PACE YOURSELF.

The short message caught her eye, and with a start, she realized she no longer knew where Tank was. He hadn’t been hurt in that mess, had he? “Tank?” she called, not even sure if he could hear her. “Where are you, buddy?”

I AM FINE. I CAN MONITOR YOU FROM ANYWHERE. I CAN DO MORE IF NOT FOLLOWING YOU DIRECTLY.

Rainbow nodded, pushing forward again. She took a tight turn, following the red line in her HUD, her wing barely touching the edge of the holographic ring as she passed through it. She was focused on the pony in front of her, a lilac mare with a pale green mane and an insignia of a trio of dragonflies. She was about to surge past the other mare when another message popped up.

USE HER SLIPSTREAM.

Rainbow slowed momentarily. “I can pass her,” she hissed.

SHE IS STRAINING TO MAINTAIN SPEED. USE HER EFFORT TO CONSERVE YOURS. WHEN SHE FALTERS, PASS HER.

Rainbow hesitated, then nodded, falling into place behind the other mare. This close, Rainbow could see a tiny mechanical insect nestled in the mare’s mane, no doubt a cheap familiar. It had clearly seen her approach, because the other mare suddenly swerved to the side, trying to shake Rainbow off. The line in Rainbow’s vision adjusted itself before she even moved, anticipating it, and Rainbow smirked, adjusting easily. The other mare made only a few more attempts before realizing it was pointless.

When she began to slow, Rainbow slipped easily past her. She almost felt bad for the other racer. Almost. But she still had a race to win.

“Where’s Spitfire?” she hissed under her breath as she took the next turn. As she came out of it, she spotted a cluster of three more racers jockeying for position ahead of her. To her surprise, one of them was a Wonderbolt. Rainbow even recognized her—a white mare with a tornado insignia named High Winds. “I thought all the Wonderbolts were flying together,” she muttered.

THERE IS A GROUP OF SEVEN WONDERBOLTS AT THE FRONT OF THE PACK, WORKING TOGETHER. THOSE THAT COULD NOT KEEP UP, EVEN WHILE CYCLING LEADERS, WERE LEFT BEHIND. THEY ARE LESS THAN A MINUTE AHEAD OF YOU, BUT THEIR LEAD IS INCREASING.

“Damnit,” Rainbow muttered, redoubling her speed. Her wings were already starting to ache, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She could go faster, and she needed to go faster, if she was still losing ground. One of the readouts in her visor tracked her current position—18th. Not good enough.

A series of three rings traced a wide circle ahead of her, and just beyond them, a fourth lay directly on the entrance to a narrow, twisting tunnel. There would be no passing in there—it would be difficult enough to navigate without clipping a wing. She dipped one wing, watching the travel lines curve ahead of her, arcing wide around the group in front of her. There was no way she’d pass them that way.

WHAT ARE

Rainbow didn’t read the rest of the message as she pumped her wings and angled herself for the very innermost edge of the rings, ignoring the guidelines. There wasn’t much room, but the trio in front weren’t quite touching the edges. She could make it.

She swooped up, then twisted her body and folded her wings flat against her flanks, turning into a streamlined bullet as she reached the group. The rookies scattered, spooked at her approach, and she slipped past them. High Winds was made of sterner stuff. She kept to her line, and sped up, pushing to hit the tunnel ahead of Rainbow.

Rainbow cursed under her breath as her trajectory began to drop too low and she still hadn’t passed the Wonderbolt. She opened her wings again, racing desperately for the tunnel entrance, one wing just clipping the final ring of the curve. The tunnel lay just ahead, and she was gaining—

There was a jarring clack as the two pegasi’s wings collided, and Rainbow gritted her teeth against the pain that shot through her, pushing forward even as High Winds wobbled off course. Suddenly she was bathed in darkness as she passed the lip of the tunnel. A split second later there was a wet thump and a crack as High Winds hit the edge of the tunnel at full speed. She careened into the tunnel floor, and then slipped out the mouth like so much dead weight.

THAT WAS INCREDIBLY FOOLISH.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Rainbow panted, adrenaline coursing through her. A moment later it was joined by a pang of guilt, and she added softly, “She’s gonna be okay, right?”

THE SAFETY NETS CAUGHT HER. SHE APPEARS TO BE BREATHING, BUT UNCONSCIOUS.

Rainbow took a shaky breath. “Good. That’s good.”

THAT COULD HAVE JUST AS EASILY BEEN YOU.

“But it wasn’t, and I’m fine,” Rainbow snapped. She turned with the tunnel, following the thin stripe of light above her. The space was cramped enough that she had slowed down by necessity, and it gave her some much-needed breathing room. But soon a light began to grow brighter in front of her, and she sped up again in preparation for returning to the open air.

YOUR RECKLESSNESS COULD VERY EASILY LEAD

The tunnel ended. “Whoa!” Rainbow yelped, abruptly pulling up as a wall loomed in front of her. A ring was just beyond it, followed immediately by another wall. She hit the ring and dived under the barrier, before swerving quickly to avoid the next one. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the ethereal lines of the safety nets below her, cradling the form of another pegasus, surrounded by several medics. Abruptly, her position ticked from 15th place to 14th. Guess they didn’t dodge fast enough. She shuddered. The high-speed crashes and narrow squeezes had seemed so much more exciting when she was watching at home or at the bar. The camera never focused on fallen racers for long.

She didn’t have time to dwell on it. The next set of rings was approaching, and with it, more racers. She fell into a rhythm, straining her wings to catch up to other competitors, drafting behind them when the course was clear to rest her wings, and then passing them in tight curves where her natural agility gave her an advantage.

By the time she finished the first lap, she had moved up to tenth place. Her muscles were sore, and she’d picked up another bruise, but the race was halfway over, and the track held no more surprises. She could do this.

Her confidence was short-lived. It was as she passed the starting line and the entrance to the arena that she saw the officers. There were a half-dozen of them, mostly earth ponies, looking menacing in their steel blue armor. They were speaking to a pegasus wearing a uniform with the arena’s logo on it, and just as Rainbow was hoping their presence might be unrelated, the pegasus pointed directly at her as she sped past.

“We’ve got trouble,” she muttered under her breath.

THE OFFICERS? YES, I AM AWARE. I AM WORKING ON A SOLUTION.

“What? When were you going to tell me about this?”

IT WOULD NOT HAVE HELPED YOUR MENTAL STATE. YOU NEED TO FOCUS ON THE RACE. I WILL HAVE AN ESCAPE ROUTE READY WHEN YOU ARE DONE.

“You’re sure?” Rainbow took one last glance back at the police ponies before she went around a turn and lost sight of them. She hadn’t really believed anyone would actually try to arrest her. After all, it wasn’t like she was hurting anypony. But now that the police were here, it suddenly felt real.

WORRYING ABOUT IT WILL NOT HELP YOUR PERFORMANCE. I WILL HANDLE IT. YOUR JOB IS TO WIN THE RACE.

“Thought you said I couldn’t win.”

DO IT ANYWAY.

Rainbow grinned. That was a sentiment she could get behind. She redoubled her wingbeats, ignoring her burning lungs and the sheen of sweat that coated her fur. She could see a pair of racers ahead of her—one was a gray stallion she vaguely recognized from the qualifier, and the other she immediately placed as Fire Streak, a Wonderbolt veteran. It quickly became clear that the Wonderbolt was spending most of his effort running interference on the rookie, and the reason was obvious: Rainbow could see the precise V formation of the frontrunning Wonderbolts only a few turns ahead of them, and Fire Streak was making sure no one came too close.

Even with the two of them trying to outposition each other, they were still blazingly fast, hitting turns and avoiding obstacles with fluid movements. It took all Rainbow had just to catch up to them, and her breath came in laboured gasps by the time she did. Fire Streak moved smoothly to block her passage as well, and for the moment, Rainbow was happy to let him, sliding into his slipstream and trying to catch her breath.

Racing had never been this hard before. Growing up, she’d casually outstripped her peers without ever having to try. She’d won every competition she had ever entered, and had assumed that would never change. The Canter 300 qualifier had been her first rude awakening. She hadn’t put in the effort, she hadn’t been prepared, and she had been brutally crushed. Even now that she was here and trying her hardest, she was struggling just to keep up. Passing these two and catching up to Spitfire and the other Wonderbolts seemed impossible.

For the first time, the thought that Tank had been optimistic entered her head. Perhaps tenth place was all she could manage. Rookies finishing in the top half are very likely to receive sponsorship. Tenth was a fine finish for a first-timer. No one would expect more from her.

YOU CAN DO IT.

Rainbow’s gaze flicked to the message, a soft smile appearing on her face. She was about to respond, when the message was replaced by a flood of pictures. Ponies of all stripes, from every tribe, with one thing in common: They were in the stands, watching her. A group of cheering fillies, trying to keep up with her movements with analog binoculars. Fluttershy, braving the world outside her workshop, surrounded by her creations, each with a video feed from a different angle. A beautiful white unicorn watching a crisp high definition video from a VIP booth, her expression thoughtful.

Warmth flooded through her. The stream of images continued, of ponies cheering her on, or whispering to their friends about this mysterious competitor that wasn’t on the list of racers. She had fans, watching her right now, wishing for her to succeed. Wanting to see her triumph.

She forgot about her burning lungs and aching body. She pulled new resolve from somewhere deep inside her, and bolted forward, too fast for Fire Streak to react. Suddenly she was in front of him, and she heard a startled exclamation that was carried off by the wind as he sped up to catch her.

They left the gray stallion behind as they closed in on the Wonderbolt formation. It was a well-oiled machine, taking the course easily without ever letting their lines slip. For these Wonderbolts, this race wasn’t a competition—it was an exhibition of their skills. They were here to show off, and it worked. Watching that flawless precision was what made Rainbow want to race. It was what had gotten her here. It was why she wanted so desperately to impress them.

And now she was so close. She could hear the beating of their wings over the rushing of the wind, see individual feathers and beads of sweat on their flanks. She could reach them, take a place in their formation, fly with them for real. No one could say she wasn’t a racer then.

One more turn, and she was there. She felt the sudden change in pressure as she slid into place behind Misty Fly. For one brief, shining moment, she was part of their formation.

Then, suddenly, the feeling was gone. The Wonderbolts scattered, breaking formation in the span of a blink. The slipstream was gone, and there was a flurry of feathers as suddenly she was right in the middle of them. She tried to adjust, to find her line—

Ice shot through her. Her vision went white, and in a flash the ice in her belly turned into searing pain. Warnings flashed in her HUD, but she couldn’t read them. Her entire left side was on fire, and her wings weren’t beating in time anymore. She had to turn, she had to hit the next ring, she had to—

The flight lines in her visor slid up, and she fell away, missing the ring as blood flowed freely from the gash in her flank.

Waking Up

Rainbow opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. Icy pain throbbed through her body, but it was strangely muted. Perhaps it was because her head was throbbing and her vision blurry. She tried to track the readouts on her HUD, but her eyes slid off the small letters, unable to focus. That didn’t stop her from seeing the flashing warning icons, and the only letters big enough for her to read: SEEK MEDICAL ATTENTION IMMEDIATELY.

Rainbow tried to stand, but her legs refused to listen. She looked down, and found herself lying in the grasp of the stadium safety nets. She was still at the race, then. Where were the medics? Surely they had seen her fall.

A buzzing assaulted her ears, and Tank floated into view, gesturing with his forelegs in clear agitation. A message appeared on her HUD, but try as she might, she couldn’t focus on it. She shook her head, moving as little as possible, and failed to stand again.

Tank sent her another message, and then a needle extended from one leg. Rainbow watched dully as he approached and jabbed it into her neck. She barely felt it. But a moment later, a feeling like electricity raced through her, and she gasped. Her vision sharpened, and the pain that had been fuzzy a moment ago turned acute and piercing. She hissed and closed her eyes, trying to hold back tears. But this time when she tried to stand she managed to struggle to her hooves.

When she was able to open her eyes again, she scanned the readouts. She didn’t know what half of them meant, but they all sounded bad. Severed pectoralis major. Apply pressure to the wound. Entering hypovolemic shock. Remain still and seek immediate blood transfusion.

Finally, she took the time to read Tank’s message.

WE MUST GO, NOW. THEY WILL NOT REMAIN DISTRACTED MUCH LONGER.

Rainbow opened her mouth to ask a question, but her body refused to cooperate, and she couldn’t make any sound come out. Instead, she focused on putting one hoof in front of the other, following where Tank led.

She slowly scanned the ground and stands below as she walked. The stands seemed strangely empty—had the race ended? No, she could still hear ponies cheering. She felt a trickle of liquid dripping down her side and tried to open her wings, but found she couldn’t. She turned to look at herself, too quickly, much too quickly. When the pain in her head faded, she saw that her entire torso had been wrapped in thick gauze, pinning her wings to her sides. One side was stained a deep red, a trail of blood dripping through her fur where it had soaked all the way through.

She felt a sudden rush of nausea well up inside her, and looked away. She couldn’t look at it, couldn’t think about it. She just had to follow Tank, and everything would be okay.

After what felt like an eternity, they reached a service door in the side of the arena. Tank gestured to the ID scanner, and Rainbow fumbled for the access card in her hoof. Eventually she popped it out, and Tank took it from her when she almost dropped it to the ground far below. He opened the door for her, and ushered her through.

She could feel whatever Tank had given her fading as her legs grew shakier and the pain threatened to overwhelm her. Every step sent a spike of pain through her belly, and she gasped, her breathing fast and shallow. There wasn’t enough air, and the walls were becoming fuzzy again. Eventually, she tried to put weight on one hoof and it refused. She collapsed.

WAIT HERE. I WILL GET HELP.

She barely made out Tank’s message before her vision swam away from her again. She didn’t know how long she lay there in the dark, unable to move. She wondered if this was what dying felt like, and if Tank would really return at all.

Then, suddenly, Fluttershy was standing over her, her face etched with worry. She was saying something, directing a bevy of her critters, but it just sounded like noise. Rainbow smiled softly. Fluttershy was here. Everything would be okay.

With that, she drifted away.

Rainbow awoke to find herself in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room. She sat up slowly, taking in her surroundings. The bed was small, but had a thick, fluffy blanket. There was a small reading desk next to the bed, and an equally small table with a chair nearby. A picture of an unfamiliar earth pony smiled at her from the table, and on the desk sat a metal tray with a glass of water, a cup of pills, and a note. Folded neatly next to them was her visor.

Rainbow didn’t bother with the items on the desk, instead looking down at herself. She was no longer wearing her flight suit, and her fur was matted and disheveled. Her torso was still bandaged, but these bandages were neater, not soaked through with blood, and most importantly, not wrapped carelessly over her wings. Her side still ached, but it was a dull throbbing that she could mostly ignore.

Satisfied for the moment that she no longer seemed to be dying, Rainbow reached over and grabbed the note. It was written in Fluttershy’s elegant wingwriting.

Rainbow,

I’m sorry I have to leave you alone, but Redheart says she expects you to sleep for a while longer. I’ll be back soon, but if you wake up before I return, don’t worry. I’ve brought you to some friends of mine, and they fixed you up and are going to help keep you safe.

You’re lucky to be alive. I was so worried about you, but the nurse says you’re going to be okay. Don’t do anything reckless or you’ll tear your stitches. And there are pain pills on the desk if you need them.

I’ll see you soon.

Never scare me like that again.

- Fluttershy

Rainbow smiled as she read the letter, before putting it back on the desk and reaching over to grab her visor. She still didn’t know where she was, but if Fluttershy trusted whoever had fixed her up, that was good enough for her. For now, at least she could check the news. Surely ponies would be talking about her, right?

An alert flashed across her vision as she tried to access the net: Access Denied. “The hell?” she muttered, but got the same response when she tried again. Nor would it let her access her email, or her phone. “Stupid piece of—” she cursed, digging through the settings. “Parental controls my flank, I’m a grown pony—”

She paused as she saw the authorization. “TANK!” she growled. “You let me use my own damn visor! I know you can hear me!”

THAT IS NOT A GOOD IDEA. YOU ARE A FUGITIVE. LOGGING IN TO ANY OF YOUR ACCOUNTS COULD ALERT THE AUTHORITIES TO YOUR ACTIVITY AND LEAD THEM TO YOUR CURRENT LOCATION. FOR NOW, YOU MUST REMAIN OFFLINE AND OUT OF CONTACT.

“Bullshit!” Rainbow growled. “I can’t just drop out of life! At least let me tell my boss I’m hurt, I can’t afford to get written up again.”

THAT WILL NOT BE NECESSARY.

Rainbow paused, suddenly apprehensive. “...because you already told him?” she asked hopefully.

NO. YOU HAVE ALREADY BEEN TERMINATED FROM YOUR POSITION.

Helpfully, a screenshot of the email in question was attached to the message. Rainbow skimmed it. “Wait, you can read my mail but I can’t? That’s not fair!”

I CAN DO SO SAFELY, FOR NOW. MY ACTIONS ARE NOT YET LINKED TO YOURS. IF I AM CAREFUL, NO ONE WILL BE MONITORING ME FOR SOME TIME.

Rainbow groaned and lay back in bed. “Great. So now what? No prize money, no job… is that it?” She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. “I suppose I can’t go home, either. Am I fucked? Just because I wanted to race?”

THERE ARE MANY AVENUES TO PURSUE TO ADDRESS YOUR CURRENT STATUS. I AM EXPLORING OPTIONS. I WILL ADVISE YOU WHEN I HAVE A MORE CONCRETE PLAN OF ACTION.

Rainbow growled under her breath. “What, because I’m too stupid to figure it out on my own? You’re a familiar, not my mom.”

I MEANT NO OFFENSE. I AM SIMPLY TRYING TO ADVISE YOU TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITY.

“So tell me now! I’m not going to go flying off after the first idea you have! I have some control.”

VERY WELL. THE CLEANEST OPTION WOULD BE TO GET YOUR CHARGES DROPPED. THERE ARE A NUMBER OF INDIVIDUALS WHO COULD ACCOMPLISH THIS, INCLUDING THE CAPTAIN OF THE WONDERBOLTS, THE CAPTAIN OF THE POLICE, THE CROWN PRINCE, AND SEVERAL OTHER HIGH-RANKING OFFICIALS. I HAVE NOT YET DETERMINED WHICH IS MOST BENEFICIAL TO APPROACH, IF ANY.

ANOTHER OPTION IS TO MAKE PUNISHING YOU MORE TROUBLE THAN IT IS WORTH. YOUR DISPLAY WAS AN EMBARRASSMENT TO THE WONDERBOLTS, AND BY EXTENSION, THE GOVERNMENT. IT ALSO GAINED YOU MANY FANS. IF MAKING AN EXAMPLE OF YOU WOULD CAUSE MORE UNREST THAN IT WOULD PREVENT, THE EFFORT TO APPREHEND YOU MAY QUIETLY VANISH.

FINALLY, IT IS POSSIBLE THAT THE MOST EFFICIENT METHOD MAY BE TO SIMPLY TURN YOURSELF IN. WITH THE PROPER LEVERAGE AND THE RIGHT ALLIES, YOU MAY GET ONLY A SLAP ON THE CANNON - COMMUNITY SERVICE, OR A SMALL FINE.

Rainbow nodded slowly as she read. “Okay. Alright. When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad,” she admitted, allowing herself a deep breath. “I guess… uh, let me know when you’ve figured out more? Sorry for snapping at you.”

IT IS FINE. YOU ARE UNDER EXCESSIVE STRESS.

Rainbow spent the next few hours rereading the Daring Do books already on her visor. There wasn’t much else to do, after all. She was interrupted when the door opened and a pure white mare walked in. She had a light pink mane, and the only other color was the red cross tattooed on her shoulder, clearly marking her as a medical pony. Both her forelegs were metal, but painted to match her coat so they didn’t stand out. She also had an ocular implant, a somewhat rare sight in earth ponies.

She stopped as she saw Rainbow sitting up, smiling. “Oh, you’re awake. That’s great news. How do you feel?”

Rainbow dismissed the book and gave the smallest of shrugs. “Eh, I’m alright. The pain isn’t too bad. Are you Redheart?”

“Oh! Yes. My apologies for not introducing myself.” The nurse walked up to the bed, her mechanical eye already focused on Rainbow’s bandages. “Let’s check your stitches, shall we?”

Rainbow nodded, turning over as the nurse instructed so Redheart could remove the bandages. As they fell away, she got her first look at the gash in her side, and shuddered. Even stitched up it was an ugly, jagged thing that ran most of the length of her body. “How long until I’m better?” she asked quietly.

The nurse didn’t answer immediately, her hooves pressing lightly to Rainbow’s side. “Looks good,” she announced. “No tearing. Let me get you a fresh set of bandages.” She pulled a new roll of gauze from under the desk.

Rainbow was about to speak again when Redheart beat her to it. “I expect to be able to remove the stitches in about a week. You should refrain from any strenuous activity before then, but I expect you’ll be fine to be up and about tomorrow. Just be careful, and if you experience any sudden pain or nausea, let somepony know.”

She pulled back, and a brief frown passed over her face, quickly banished. “As for when you’ll make a full recovery… on that front, I have some bad news.” Her implant flickered, and a file transmission request appeared in Rainbow’s vision. When she opened it, she saw a see-through image of her own body. The tear in her flight muscle was impossible to miss.

“Your pectoral was torn,” Redheart said quietly. “In time, it will heal, but there will be severe scarring. With physical therapy, I’m fairly confident you will regain your flight capabilities, but you will never be as strong a flier as you once were. I’m sorry.”

Rainbow froze, staring. “Never?” she whispered. “I’m… I’m not going to get better?”

Redheart shook her head vehemently. “You will get better,” she insisted. “You will fly again, I assure you.”

“But not like before,” Rainbow repeated dully. “You’re saying I… I won’t be able to race anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” the nurse repeated quietly.

Rainbow was silent for a long moment, before her expression hardened. “No. I don’t believe that.”

Redheart opened her mouth to speak again, but Rainbow cut her off. “You’ve never seen me before. I’m the best. I’m not going to just quit.”

Redheart hesitated. Finally, she simply said, “I hope you’re right.” She gave Rainbow a nod, before stepping away. “I’ll be back to check on you again tomorrow. And I’ll let Miss Pie know you’re awake.” With that, she turned and left.

It wasn’t long before there was a knock at the door. Rainbow looked up just in time to see a pony enter. She was bright pink from her mane to her hooves, and lacked any augments at all. There was a ring of multicolored balloons tattooed around each foreleg, just above her hooves. Curiously, they were drawn upside-down, rising towards the floor. Otherwise, her only adornment was a comm bracelet around one pastern.

She stepped right up to the bed, looking Rainbow over. “Hey,” she said gently. “Feeling better?”

Rainbow nodded. “Yeah. Are you Fluttershy’s friend?”

The pink pony nodded. “Yep, that’s me. Pinkie Pie, at your service.”

“I’m Rainbow. Rainbow Dash.”

“I know.” Pinkie smiled. “How much do you remember? You were pretty out of it when Fluttershy brought you in.”

Rainbow hesitated. “Uh… not much. Tank helped me get out, but I’m not sure how. And I don’t remember anything afterwards.” She paused for a moment, before adding, “What happened? How did I get hurt?”

Pinkie laughed softly. “Isn’t that the million bit question.” She pressed a few buttons on her comm bracelet, and several videos appeared in midair, each showing Rainbow from a different angle. Rainbow watched as she reached the Wonderbolts formation, a brief expression of pure joy flashing across her recorded face. Then the formation scattered and for a brief moment she lost sight of herself. And then all the videos went black.

“Hey, what gives?” Rainbow protested.

Pinkie shook her head. “That’s all there is. At least, as far as the news is concerned. Every station in the city was watching you, as soon as they figured out what was going on. You were big! Exciting! Mysterious! And then, right before you got hurt, everypony switched to something else. Two minutes later, they were talking about the race like you never existed.”

Rainbow let out a low growl. “That’s bullshit! No way that happened by accident.”

“Yep. Fortunately for us, there were more than just official feeds watching you.” Pinkie pulled up another video. In slow motion, the flurry of feathers resolved itself. The Rainbow in the video was confused and wobbly, trying to adjust. And then she watched as Spitfire slid past, her metal wing slicing through Rainbow’s side like paper. She watched herself fall, side already stained red.

Pinkie turned the video off, and then reached out one hoof to rest on Rainbow’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I know you admired them. Fluttershy said you talked about them all the time—”

“Fuck that!” Rainbow growled. “I’m gonna kill her. I’m gonna tear off her stupid metal wings and feed them to her. She knew. She knew how important racing is to me and— and she—” Rainbow gasped, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe, a jolt of pain lancing through her side. Angrily, she wiped the tears from her eyes, but didn’t try to finish her sentence.

Pinkie nodded. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, her voice almost a whisper. “I know how hard it can be, to lose faith in your idols.” She looked away for a moment, composing herself before she returned her gaze to Rainbow. Now it sported an almost manic, devious grin. “That’s why it’s a good thing you’re here. We can help you. Well, really, we can help each other.”

Rainbow looked up, her expression suddenly suspicious.

“We’re trying to change things, Rainbow. We’re trying to make the world a better place, for everypony. We’ve got earth ponies tired of fighting and working for the unicorn elite, and pegasi tired of just being tools. But… well, most ponies are too scared or complacent to really do anything. They aren’t willing to fight.” She pointed at Rainbow. “But then you come along. You broke into their arena, and you proved you were better than them. And they attacked you for it. You’re a symbol, Rainbow Dash. Ponies all over the world are rooting for you. They’re afraid you’re dead, and they want justice.”

Rainbow hesitated, unsure.

Pinkie paused, and pulled back slightly. “Don’t worry. Just get some rest. We’re gonna fix your wing, and get back at everypony who hurt you.” She turned to leave, looking back with one hoof on the door. “Welcome to the revolution, Rainbow.”