Crash Component

by JudgementalHat

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Slice of Life
Length: 4136

Crash durability is an essential part of pegasus magic. And when you are an outlier, someone who can walk away from any crash without a scratch, an entire segment of Equestria’s job market will open up for you...

The airship sector is one of the fastest growing in Equestria’s transport economy, and with that comes innovation. New ideas, new designs, new designers.

Building a good airship is about more than just throwing ideas to the wall and making them stick. But sometimes, the brute force approach is necessary.

After all, when you have airships, you have airship windows.

And when you have airship windows, you need somepony to test them…

Crossposted to AO3 here.

Based on this blog post by Estee.

Pegasus vector on cover taken from ClipArtMax.

Published 2022-02-08 01:50:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-02-08 01:50:00 UTC

Pegasus Cannonball!

The testing floor of DuraGlass Industries Airship Division was never a quiet place, but the testing period before a new airframe debuted was a particularly hectic time.

There was a flurry of activity as ponies galloped from station to station, running final checks, making sure this test will go as planned.

At the center of it all was an elderly unicorn named Airframe. He was supposedly running this asylum, although a week of near-sleepless nights agonizing over the results of this test had significantly reduced his managerial abilities. His mane was slowly starting to come undone from the tight coif it had been twisted into, usually in concert with his eye twitches. His tail had long since given up the ghost.

The harassed interns around him dared not to remind him that they had more responsibilities than fetching more coffee.

There was a violet earth pony circling the stations to beat all her own. She carried no paperwork or clipboard, and her four-leaf-clover mark seemed out of place for a scientific enterprise, but when her ears suddenly pricked and she began making gestures to a group of ponies wearing labcoats, they listened to her.

The prototype airframe itself sat waiting outside the protective awning of the DuraGlass building, settled in an open field with nothing around for miles. The front fuselage of the airframe was in place, windows included, and was pointed at the open side of the building.

And then there was Birdstrike. Birdstrike was the reason for the large cannon ominously aimed at the airship prototype.

We’ll get to him in a second.

Airships were one of the greatest, most life-changing inventions in Equestrian history. A minotaur invention that took Equestrian investors by storm as soon as somepony worked out how much a certain breed of Equestrian nobility will pay for a seat in a 'luxury' airship.

And with a new invention comes new concepts...

"Crash testing?" somepony had asked, "You crash your airships to test them?"

The minotaur just shook her head, "Nah. Ya see kid, there's more in the sky than just airships. Back in Minos... four or five years ago when were were just getting started on this airship idea, some poor test pilot hit a flock a geese. Now we can laugh about it, but it was a very serious situation when it happened, cause those geese were not kind to the propellers, and especially not the windows, an' it's hard for a minotaur who's just got a face of feathers to remember how to land. So we test our glass and we test our engines, so we aren't left engineless or pilotless in case some other flock of geese doesn't get out of our way."

The pony had nodded and taken notes, and when they went home the next night, they had an idea, or perhaps a premonition.

Because there’s far more in Equestrian skies than just birds.

Air carriages and private hot air balloons are required to stay in their own airspace, well away from the larger airships. Any incident in which the airspaces crossed or clashed would be a true worst-case scenario.

But pegasi and griffins are far less regulated in their flight, and there will always be someone too arrogant, too distracted, or in too much of a hurry to read a sign. Even a cloud-mounted billboard with flashing, bright-red, extra-large lettering reading:

Restricted Airspace
KEEP OUT!

Research ensued.

Several budding airship companies found themselves with a budding Impact Studies department, and for the one's who wouldn't take them willingly, there was a Royal Decree. Any airship operating in Equestrian airspace must be tested against and be able to survive impacts against the most common of Equestrian air hazards.

Special cushioning spells previously invented for the film industry were deployed, and most major airship chains began to hire 'lifeguards', pegasi and griffins who would watch for impacts and prepare to catch the perpetrator, in case the crash had left them too dazed to recover.

Of course, the fine for trespassing in Restricted Airspace was enough to make some of them wish for the plummet, but that's neither here nor there.

The difficulty was this: how to simulate the impact between a pegasus and an airship? Air carriages and hot air balloons could be simulated by use of weighted rams. But a pegasus or griffon was not just a weighted sandbag in flight, but a being with their own magic, something that could significantly change the trajectory and strength of any impact they had suffered.

Twenty years of Equestrian study and research had confirmed it. There was no dummy in the world that could simulate the exact configuration of flesh, bone, and magic created by a pegasus in flight. To simulate the impact of a pegasus against an airship, you needed a pegasus.

Clover reared up and tapped her hoof against the bottom of Birdstrike’s cannon. “Hey Bird!” she called, “I’ve got a funny feeling so we’re going to postpone the test for another parameter check. Are you comfortable in there, or do you want to come out?”

A shuffle from inside the tube, one Clover could identify through long practice as the sound of a pegasus shrug. “I’ll be fine in here, as long as you don’t take too long.”

There was further shuffling, accompanied by hoof scrabbles and feather brushes, all magnified by the acoustic properties of a cannon barrel. Birdstrike getting out of launch position, she suspected, and settling in for a nap. Some things never changed.

Why could the feelings of one pony grind an experiment to a halt? Because the owners of DuraGlass were open-minded enough to realize that there is room for more than scientific marks in their research workforce. Putting a pony specializing in organization in charge of parts storage and procurement had been a resounding success. Regimental couldn't explain what made a good propeller if you held him at horn-point, but he could certainly provide the research department with every part they needed to make one, in a quarter of the time of his predecessor. A pony marked for destruction and demolition is the perfect pony to stress-test new airframes. And then there was Clover, who was by far the highest paid of the research staff. She had to be, if they wanted to keep her. When you have one of the rarest talents in Equestria, you are always in high demand.

Clover's mark was meant for luck, and so her bad feelings carried weight.

She had never found a way to explain how bad luck made her feel. Eyes started glazing over around attempt three. She had usually given up by attempt five, although some in DuraGlass management seemed to be immune to her powers of boredom, if not her powers of explanation. No description ever seemed to be completely accurate.

Clover's bad feelings were vague, and needed interpretation. The problem now was that her bad feeling was coming in waves, almost-but-not-quite as though something was rubbing her fur against the grain. She couldn't think of anything that could have prompted it.

Every recheck was coming back clean. Birdstrike was removed from the cannon for a full inspection, then placed back inside when it proved to be functioning perfectly. Every part of the test had been reexamined with a fine-toothed comb, and nothing out of the ordinary had been found.

Now everypony was waiting, held in suspense, waiting to see if the test would continue. Birdstrike was completely ready in his cannon, vibrating faintly in position. For the ponies around the cannon hooves were shuffled, lips bit. A few even took to nervous pacing as they waited for the final word.

The situation was complicated. Clover was trusted, but her bad feelings were unfocused and needed to be interpreted. And every check had come back clean, after all. In the end, Airframe had the final word. He wasn't a bad pony, or an uncaring one. He was just overcome with a severe case of finish-it-itis. The DuraGlass Airship Mark Eight was the culmination of years of work. He wanted it tested, today.

He nodded.

"Launch."

The cannon fired. Birdstrike emerged in an eye-searing orange blur, wings tucked in close, legs extended and braced with metal, prepared to deliver as much impact as Equestrianly possible. The more magically attuned ponies in attendance could feel the layers of magic Birdstrike had swathed himself in.

Birdstrike crossed the runway in a fraction of a second, posture perfect, eyes narrowed behind his protective glasses in absolute concentration. His hooves connected with the prototype windscreen-

-and rebounded. The airframe shook like a gong as a number of carefully crafted security and cushioning spells worked in concert to protect the integrity of the glass and reduce the impact on the offending pony. The airframe wobbled on its stand and the front windscreen gained a spectacular double-spiderweb of cracks where Birdstrike's hooves had impacted, but it remained generally intact and in place.

Birdstrike was not as lucky. There was a doppler effect to his reflexive scream, as the pegasus proceeded to sail over the cannon from whence he came, flailing his wings and cartwheeling in midair. Fortunately, the back wall was padded for exactly this reason.

There was stunned silence from the ponies on the floor below. Then there was cheering.

How is a pegasus suited for this type of work found and recruited? Or more importantly, why is being launched at near-terminal velocity at a prototype airframe considered a job for a pony and not perhaps a convict? Or a corpse?

Each pony race has their own magic, their own special way of affecting the world around them. Some effects were obvious. A lit unicorn horn was hard to disguise and everypony has seen an earth pony tending her garden. To see pegasi magic at in play, all one has to do is look up and watch the weather team at work. But there are subtler aspects of magic as well. Certain reagents must be prepared in special factories and used only by pegasi or earth ponies, as the spare magic flaking from a unicorn's horn will destroy them in an instant. An injured earth pony will always heal cleaner and more quickly than their counterparts. And pegasi? Every doctor in Equestria knows that a pegasus at the moment of impact is more durable than the strongest earth pony.

Birdstrike was a young pony, newly marked and newly flying, when he attempted a stunt and got it terribly, terribly wrong. Half of Neighslydale saw hm go down and every pony in town with any form of medical training lined up by the crater's edge, ready to see what was left. Instead, the dust blew away and there was a rumpled-but-intact pegasus blinking at them from the bottom of the crater.

Ponies can be specialized in their magic. There are unicorns who specialize in conjuration, earth ponies who find that trees answer their call the most readily... And Birdstrike? Birdstrike was one of the most durable pegasi in the world.

In his youth he was enabled and encouraged to try more and riskier stunts and word began to spread of a pegasus who could survive impacts that would cripple or kill another pony. There was a market for a pony with that kind of magic. Arguably, the job offer had saved Birdstrike's life. His stuntwork was becoming more risky by the day, and his magic-fueled invincibility would have found its limit.

Now he was an adult, fully grown from the foolhardy teenage colt willing to sacrifice his body in the name of possibly achieving a stunt. He had a house in Trottingham, fully paid off, and his wife's flower shop in Market Square relied on his start-up capitol. The couple was trying for a foal, someone to fill the extra rooms in their house. It wasn't a bad life.

He will soon be in need of a reminder of why he loved his job.

Birdstrike had staggered from the padding at the base of the walls on his own hooves and so the medical check he received was mostly perfunctory. Even after being cleared for his next launch, the pegasus was politely asked to remain on the ground and within observation distance of the medical tents. It was state of affairs he was used to, so he merely collected his lunchbag and joined Clover on the grass by the airframe.

They sat for a minute, eating in silence and watching the crew ready themselves for another test. Clover spoke first.

"I'm sorry for wasting your time, Birdstrike."

"Hmm?" Birdstrike looked up, and quickly swallowed a mouthful of food, "Clover, you had a bad feeling. That means everything stops until things get checked."

"I know," Clover said, "and I watched everypony do their checks, and everything turned out okay, but I still have a bad feeling."

"So what? Do you think it was just a dud? I didn't know you had bad feelings without something causing them.

"I don't! But I'm having them now, and I don't know why!"

"I trust you, Clover," Birdstrike said, "I trust you to keep me safe, so I can go home to my family."

Clover froze, too touched to react. She shuffled her hooves awkwardly, trying to think of a way to respond. She decided a change of subject was needed.

"Decided on a color for the nursery yet?"

"No, although Crocus has been looking at a lot of paint samples lately," Birdstrike shook his head, "I tell you, you have never known torment until you've been trapped for three hours in Pigment's Paint Shop trying to decide which shade of blue-green will go the best with our trim."

"Ouch," Clover winced, and she was about to suggest a trade in desserts when she was hit with one of the strongest bad feelings she had ever experienced in her life. She gasped, stricken by the feeling. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Birdstrike bolting to his hooves, ready to sprint for the medics. He had barely made a hoofstep before there was ominous rumble from the sky above.

The weather was miserable. Birdstrike and Clover had taken cover in the DuraGlass testing building, lunches abandoned in their attempt to get clear of the rain before being soaked. They had almost made it, and now shivered by the ventilation system, in hopes that it might disgorge warm air.

The rapidly forming layer of ice on the tarmac outside confirmed it. This was no ordinary downpour, this was freezing rain.

Airframe was vowing any number of angry letters to the Weather Control office, nevermind that the DuraGlass Headquarters was on the edge of Trottingham and very much at the mercy of wild weather systems that may blow in. DuraGlass was unwilling to pay for their own weather ponies, but still insisted on perfect weather for testing days. The one attempt to have the pegasi on staff (none of whom were talented with weather magic, let along mark qualified) break a storm had been an unmitigated disaster, to the point where even the most self-absorbed middle manager was aware that it was a very bad idea and should never be attempted again.

More important that the angry letters and the empty threats was one important factor. Airframe was the final word on the testing floor. And Airframe wasn't willing to stop the test. In many ways he couldn't. Years of his life, waiting for this moment. He couldn't have it postponed over something as petty as the weather. Ponies shifted from hoof-to-hoof, sometimes opening and then closing their mouths as someone tried to work up the courage to contradict him.

By the heater, Clover and Birdstrike just shivered.

Clover only came out of her cold-induced daze when Birdstrike was reluctantly prodded back into the cannon.

She was no scientist, but she was Birdstrike's friend. She was obligated to do something.

She still approached Airframe nervously. That was only smart.

"Airframe? Sir? I was getting a bad feeling earlier and now we have this rain... I know this isn't a mandatory reason to postpone the test, but I really would recommend-" her voice cut off as she saw the state of her boss.

Airframe's twitch seemed to have migrated. His hooves skittered on the ground as he turned to Clover. "I have sacrificed years of my life to this project. Years upon years upon years-" Airframe's eyes were wide, his shrunken pupil's vibrating faintly, "-and now you're telling me we'll have to postpone? Is that what you're telling me?!"

Clover's ears went flat to her skull. The layer of ice on her coat had nothing to do with her freezing. Later, she would regret it. But for now Clover shut-up and stayed shut.

After all, there were a certain number of successful tests they had to go through, before the airframe was deemed safe. all she had to do was count them down and wait for the reprieve.

[Test #2]

The second test preceded just as the first did, although Birdstrike seemed to be stiffer than he should be when he limped his way to the medics.

[Test #5]

Clover frowned to herself. Normally if he bounced off at this angle, Birdstrike would attempt to go into a lateral spin and land in the padding on the grass. On the other hoof the padding was soaked and landing in it would mean spending more time in the rain. Still, she felt that a full backwards rebound was a bit much in terms of bleeding the impact.

[Test #9]

Birdstrike was beginning to develop a full-body shine. Clover suspected that the ice on his body was not fully melting before the next test. She was no scientist but she wondered if that would affect the results. Then Airframe was barking orders and all thought left her mind.

[Test #12]

No scream this time. Maybe Birdstrike had gotten control over his instincts. Either that or his jaw had frozen shut.

[Test #17]

Was it just Clover or was the metal around the airframe's windows... warping?

[Test #20]

The last test. It was the last test. All they had to do was launch Birdstrike one more time and the airframe will have passed. They could all go home and get out of the rain. It would be a relief. By this point even the ponies who spent the most time under the buildings protective cover had developed ice clumps. Clover suspected her mane and tail had doubled or even tripled in weight through the application of ice. But soon she would be able to go home and sink into hot water until the coldness of the day melted away.

It would be over. It would all be over soon.

Airframe was unsteadily cantering in place. Out of joy? Nervousness? Nopony could tell. Most were just relieved to see the expression of an emotion that wasn't anger.

Birdstrike seemed to share the emotion. He had barely tolerated the last medical examination, bolting from it as soon as he could to spend the application of a new windscreen to the airframe in his cannon. As soon as it was secure the cannon would fire and they would all be that much closer to going home.

Airframe smiled when he was told they were ready. It was the first joyful expression anypony had seen him make all day long.

"Is he ready?" he asked, gesturing to Birdstrike's cannon.

A pegasus risked a flyby to glance inside. "Ready!" they called, shaking the freezing rain out of their wings.

Airframe's smile grew wider.

"Launch."

The cannon fired for the last time. Birdstrike emerged, once again in perfect crash position. In fact, this was the best he had ever held the pose against the pressures of wind and magic.

Airframe, in a moment of victory-induced generosity, decided to offer him a commendation, just for that.

Perhaps the universe does have a sense of irony, as that was the exact moment Birdstrike's hooves hit the prototype and went through.

The crash was a beautiful, multilayered noise. Heavy on the crunching and clattering of broken glass at first, with the garnishment of the tortured screams of twisted metal. Followed by an almost musical assortment of bangs and screeches which almost obscured the crunching noise indicating that Birdstrike had fully passed through the airframe and was now in the process of grinding a new furrow into the ground.

There was silence, followed by a few final tinkles of falling glass.

The research staff of DuraGlass stood stock-still for a single, horrified moment. Then they ran for the remains of their prototype.

Thankfully, Birdstrike's bright orange coat made it easy to distinguish him from the debris field around the crumpled remains of the mock-airship. Unfortunately, his talent-based near-invincibility only applied during the moment of the crash, and so cutting him from the twisted metal without incurring harm to fur or feather was a much trickier proposition, even if the crew had been working with a pony who had not been frozen stiff.

It was a meeting of the DuraGlass’ finest. The highest echelon of the company was in attendance as was most of the high level technical and testing staff. The qualifier ‘most’ applied mainly because Birdstrike was still at Manehattan General for defrosting, along with having a particularly stubborn piece of airship fuselage cut from around his neck and barrel.

Airframe was present, physically if not mentally. He had to be lead the the room and placed on a chair. Clover wasn't certain that he'd blinked since the accident.

No pony was speaking. The horrified silence of the testing floor seemed to have followed everypony up to the meeting room. Nopony even shuffled their hooves, in fear of breaking the silence. Nopony was meeting another's eyes. The silence could have lasted forever, except...

Somepony cleared their throat, softly. Everypony's spine went stiff, even Airframe's. Heads slowly, nervously turned to the CEO of DuraGlass.

"Right," Escalus said, "I think we will need to make changes to our testing environment."

Several things happened during the next few weeks.

A still-bandaged Birdstrike greeted his wife when she came to pick him up from DuraGlass Central for the start of his month-long injury leave. As far as Please Don’t Kill Me For Getting Myself Hurt gifts go, a large bonus check and air carriage voucher to get the injured party home safely go a long way towards making things right. There was anger and tears, both born of worry. But there was also laughter, and Clover could hear their voices echoing up to her office as the couple limped their way to the air carriage station, while softly discussing ideas for a foal’s bedroom.

The perpetual war between the Executive and Financial Departments of DuraGlass had heated up and found a new front regarding Birdstrike's paid injury leave, and especially that bonus. Midas and his cadre of financial experts were ascribed to the philosophy of letting as little money as possible slip from their hooves. Meanwhile, Escalus was both well aware of the importance of Birdstrike to his company's success, and as CEO, had hard veto power. Clover suspected that the other department heads were preparing for Midas to recoup his (or the company's, but mainly his) losses through budget cuts.

Escalus was also having ponies weigh in on the idea of a new chain of command on the testing floor, a way to make sure all concerns were heard and a single pony didn't steer their project to disaster. Airframe would be asked to consult, as soon as he came back from his own mandatory leave.

Clover herself was asked to bring her luck power to the drawing room, and was spending her days pouring over blueprints and diagrams, waiting for that indescribable gut feeling that proceeded potential disaster. She was no expert, but she noticed when the blueprints presented to her began to show more than just potential airship designs. She suspected that Birdstrike would be required to weigh in on a new line of cannons and safety padding, just as soon as he got back from his well-deserved leave.

The DuraGlass Airship Mark Eight may arrive on the market later than planned, but Clover suspected it wouldn't matter. She had a good feeling about it.

Most importantly, there was a new addition to the DuraGlass Industries Patented Pegasus Cannon step-by-step safety guide, one which sent Clover into absolute fits of laughter the first time she read it and could still make her smile for months after.

Before firing the PPC in freezing or near-freezing conditions, or during times of high wind chill, thaw the pegasus first.