Interceptor: Storm Warningby EroPony1000ChaptersMounting UpClash in the CloudsHomecomingMounting UpIt was raining. Emerging from the middle passageway onto the landing terrace, Watch Commander Spitfire walked confidently across the slick stone toward the waiting cadets and their machines, unfazed by the darkening clouds and the rumble of distant thunder. Sheets of water driven by the winds spilled across the cobbles, flowing through the cracks and into the drainage channels, tumbling overboard and turning to mist. Her boot-clad hooves made splashes where they fell; her mane and tail trailed behind her like plumes of fire, wind-tossed yet determined to burn. She stopped before the arc of rookies, all standing before their ‘Drakewing’ Interceptors in the torrential rain, clad in tight and glossy jumpsuits bearing their personal heraldry alongside the sigil of the Midnight Sun. Their Interceptor Suits were fearsome combinations of ancient tech and modern magic, resembling the flying dragons of the Gleaming Horde. Each was outfitted with a crystal Repeater-Bracelet and a pair of corrosive ‘Pesticide’ rockets enchanted with a homing spell and capable of melting the Reactive Carapace Armor of a changeling Swarm Drone. The cadets looked almost sad in their rain-slick flight suits, their manes and tails heavy with water and flattened by the downpour, but Spitfire felt a touch of pride seeing how they remained at attention regardless. At the front was Rainbow Dash, who had distinguished herself during training and was thus given command of the mission. She was an excellent pilot, though at times her confidence could make her reckless. Spitfire gave them all a curt salute and the young pilots returned it, flinging rainwater with each sharp motion. “Mount up!” cried the captain over the roaring rain, sending the cadets scrambling to their dormant strike craft. Dash climbed into the skeletal frame of her Drakewing and tightly fastened the control rig, which fit around her wings, wrists and ankles. Sensing her presence, the magical machine’s Paradox Core came to life and began sending power to the autonomous systems. Layers of blue metal started to unpack, sliding into place while smaller, interlocking scales meshed together to seal the suit between the heavier armor plates. From the outside it looked like Rainbow Dash was suspended within a flayed metal dragon, its body folding and tightening around her own. The captain approached Dash as she was still gearing up, wanting to speak face-to-face one last time before she was sealed away in her exoskeleton. “Captain.” said Dash, watching the magic-metal ensconce her arms and feeling it tighten around her legs. Her hooves were propped up as though on stilts, with raptor-like talons beneath them. Spitfire saw all this and approved, but her face was grim when she spoke next. “Remember, it’s not just you up there cadet, and this isn’t a simulation. There are no points if you don’t come back alive.” Before Dash could say anything in response Spitfire grabbed the zipper of her suit and yanked it all the way down to her navel, releasing RD’s compresses tits, which spilled out from her suit like a river bursting through a dam. With her limbs locked in the machine, she was unable to do anything about it except wince at the sudden cold and the sting of the the heavy, freezing raindrops now battering her bare breasts and slipping down into the recesses of her suit. “Ow—Hey!” shouted Dash, but the machine was already beginning to seal around her, shielding her from the rain just a bit too late. The last thing RD saw before the armor was shut tight was the captain winking and waving her fingers. For a moment, all was dark. The draconic helm had descended like a hood and now settled into place, flexible scale mesh connecting to the solid metal of the helm, which was supported by the suit’s powerful spine. With a chorus of hissing Needle-like protrusions on the interior of the suit emerged, pressing against the cadet’s body. The flight suit was intended to act as a buffer between them and her tender flesh, but thanks to the captain some of the needles made contact with her bare breasts, the sensation alarmingly intense. She gasped, and as if in response the darkness melted away and Dash could see the stone deck again and feel the rain on her metal skin, though the sensation was distant and dreamlike, except on her breasts. She felt naked and exposed, then remembered she was sealed in nearly 5 tons of electrum plating, but somehow that didn’t seem to help. Nevertheless, she leaned forward, stretching her metal limbs like a cat while flicking her barbed tail and extending her wings. The others did the same, each of them taking a moment to adjust to their mechanical bodies. When they were finished they all sat at attention, looking to Dash to lead them. The middle passageway was set down into the deck, with a number of metal rails on either side spanning the length of the ship. The captain watched from a safe distance as Rainbow’s electrum dragon stepped forward onto the runway and locked its fore and hind-claws into the catapult rails with a magnetic snap, angling her wings for launch. The captain crouched down, the rain finally taking its toll on her mane and tail. She tapped the deck, then extended her arm horizontally, giving the signal to launch. With a hiss of purple steam and the glow of arcane lightning the catapult pulled the Drakewing along the stone deck, sparks flying and tail lashing, then flung her out into the open sky. Fleet Foot was next, then High Winds, both falling in behind Dash and holding pattern around the carrier. The voice of the captain echoed in the helm of Dash’s Interceptor. “Superheavy to Blue Lead. Confirm green-line.” In the augmented reality HUD a heading appeared, skirting the storm. “Blue Lead copies, green-line confirmed.” Dash and her wing-mates ignited their afterburners and roared off toward the storm wall. It wouldn’t be long before they encountered the enemy for the very first time. Author's Note This began a long time ago as a story about fighter-pilots. Dash was always the protagonist but the story was very different. This will also be the first story with multiple chapters, though each will remain a crisp 1,000 words. I had two choices: cut the story down and exclude much of what I has written already or extend the story, which I had been working on intermittently for some time. I chose then to extend it, with each chapter being like a mini story that conveys a certain idea, but is more closely tied to the other(s) than the sequels I have written. I intend to make each chapter like a self-contained scene without any serving primarily as a bridge between other chapters, but we will see how things go. I’ve already got some key parts of the next one written and a general idea for the direction the story will take. Hopefully it will be fun for all of us. Cheers! Clash in the CloudsThe drones fell upon them fast, and immediately their formation was broken by evasive maneuvers, the pilots trying to avoid being decimated by an opening salvo of swarm missiles. Without warning one of the drones folded its wings and dropped down on RD from above, crashing into her with incredible speed. She flared her wings and fired the afterburners, pushing back against the dark metal machine and bringing their sudden descent to a halt. Drawing up her legs toward her chest, Dash latched onto the drone’s waist with her metallic hind-claws. She kicked off, carving rending wounds in either side of its torso and putting some distance between the two machines. RD managed to plant a few rounds from her repeater bracelet into the drone’s weakened torso, disabling the sensory regulator, with a couple more striking the machine’s armored chest and assailing the changeling pilot with waves of unstable bio-feedback, causing it to awkwardly cup its sleek, metallic breasts and exhort a dull moan that Dash found somewhat disturbing. Trying to seize the moment, Rainbow closed the gap again with a quick burst from her thrusters, slamming her fist into the drone’s head, but not before it could drive its knee between her legs. After making contact it discharged a kinetic pulse from its semi-functioning plates and sent a modified feedback signal to Dash’s suit, stimulating her body with more pleasure than pain. Rainbow Dash let out a short breath with a slightly sultry intonation, then was sent backward by a desperate shove, the swarm drone pressing against her drake’s breasts where the bio-link was not dampened by her under-suit. Its palms sent another wave of altered bio-feedback that pumped a dull sensation to the swell of her breasts beneath her armor and a sharp one right to her nipples, rousing them until they strained against the needles, forcing them to adjust. Stimulated as she was, it only helped her focus on the moment. Gritting her teeth, she fired off one thruster and angled her wings to deliver a harsh roundhouse kick that drove her interceptor’s heel-spike into the swarm drone’s midriff, tearing into it and sending it spiraling to the clouds below. Back up above, the others were exchanging fire with the drones, dodging the acidic projectiles of their cocoon-cannons and peppering them with luminescent repeater fire. Fleet-Foot tormented her opponent, keeping them at range and never slowing down enough for the ponderous projectiles to hit, but soon she began to settle into a rhythm, and her mind wandered. The changeling seized this chance to change up their strategy, putting all their power to thrusters and closing in.. The pony pilot managed to avoid a collision, but it was a close thing; close enough for the changeling to hit her with a blast from its cannon, though it had to completely let down its guard to pull this off, and was swiftly dispatched afterward as its peculiar weapon did not immediately take Fleet-Foot out of commission. The ancient tech that allowed the pilots on either side to interface with their machines so completely also ensured that they could feel the impacts against the receptive armor plates. Hard impacts were dampened to protect the pilot while still warning them of damage, but the slightly acidic slime from a drone’s cocoon-cannon remained on the plates, overloading the sensors and torturing the pilot with constant, itching stimulation. “Ew, it’s sticky. I can’t get it off! Ah—ahh!” Fleet-Foot was breathing heavily, her transmissions becoming little more than sighs and moans. “Fall back for now!” said Dash, her cheeks flushed. “As soon as you are in range, let the Captain know you’ve been hit.” “Copy that, Ah-Alpha Lead!” replied Fleet-Foot, withdrawing and leaving High-Winds and Rainbow-Dash with one final opponent. High-Winds was holding her own, but her opponent was quick and evasive. Now and again they would clash, claw against claw, then separate again, an arc of repeater shots drawing a bridge in the sky. Dash added her own shots to her wing-mate’s, the weight of fire forcing the changeling to pull away. Outnumbered and outmatched, the swarm drone chose to retreat rather than risk annihilation. “We can’t let it get away! If the Storm-Nest is alerted it’s all over!” shouted Dash. The two of them fired their own missiles, the homing-enchantment leading them to the drone just as it entered a cloud-bank. Twin detonations like artificial lightning lit the clouds from within, revealing foreboding dark shapes that began to stir. “Is that the Storm-Nest?” asked High-Winds. “Did we wake it?” “We woke something.” said Dash. “If it were the Storm-Nest we’d know. This is just a pocket of sleepers, meant to activate if a large enough ship sails too close.” The sleepers wouldn’t rouse the hive unless it became necessary, and lucky for them the drones still thought that they could easily manage the two Interceptors. It seemed even a hive-mind could still be stupid. The two interceptors made a fighting retreat, dodging shots and firing grazing volleys at the swarm-like formation of the enemy pilots. Aggravated by the evasive tactics, the drones fired off all their swarm missiles at once, a terrible corona of dark needles blooming, then darting for the ponies at great speed. “Fall back!” shouted Dash as she herself advanced, flaring her afterburners. “What are you doing?” asked High-Winds, watching in horror as the needle-like missiles converged on Dash like a grasping hand. “Just keep your distance and watch.” she said confidently, her tone putting High-Winds at ease a little bit. At least she knew Dash didn’t intend to sacrifice herself. She did as she was told, watching as Dash sailed toward the enemy formation, the missiles turning inward like a funnel and following her as she nimbly dodged and weaved through cannon-fire. Dragging the missiles behind her she speared through the heart of the enemy formation, the projectiles in-tow slamming into the mass of swarm drones. A terrible moaning erupted from them then that did not go unheard. Author's Note Part two! Containing some of what I had originally intended to include in the first part, back when it was going to be the only part. I have an idea of how I want to conclude the story, and hope you will stick around for part three. Cheers! HomecomingSpitfire felt a swell in her breast at the sight of the returning Interceptors. The ground grew scrambled to set up, keeping fire-extinguishers and medical staff on standby. The draconic mechs hit the deck one after another, claws sparking furiously as they tore through the arresting cables, snapping them one by one until the fearsome machines finally ground to a halt. As the engines powered down the arcane light faded from the thrusters and the metal cavities opened to deposit the pilots on the deck. Dash ripped the suction cups from her breasts before leaping down, her hooves splashing. Her tits felt like weights trying to make her fall, but she regained her balance and straightened up. Spitfire approached as RD stepped away from the frame. When she noticed the captain coming her way she stuffed her boobs back into her jumpsuit before standing at attention. High-Winds made her way over after dismounting her own machine and stepped up beside her comrade, giving the captain a curt salute. When Spitfire put them at ease, High-Winds suddenly hugged Rainbow-Dash, squeezing her tight and standing on one hoof, leaning into the slightly larger pony with all her weight. Spitfire laughed at Dash's uncomfortable expression, and after a moment even RD managed a smile. "That was amazing!" said High-Winds, stepping back and clasping her hands behind her, her own face flushed. Spitfire was intrigued, even raising an eyebrow. "I'll expect details at the debrief, but for now..." Spitfire gestured over to the middle passage, where Fleet-Foot was emerging onto the deck, looking right as rain. Both pilots were relieved to see her, and she them. RD offered her a handshake, and High-Winds embraced her, though more delicately than she had Dash. Fleet-Foot was still a touch overly-sensitive but did her best to hide it. More than anything she was glad that her friends made it back. Though she said nothing, she had felt guilty retreating and leaving them alone. She didn't have a choice, but if something had happened she would never have forgiven herself. Not long after the mechanics emerged to perform diagnostic checks of the returned hardware. "Let's get out of their way." said Spitfire, leading the others below deck. With the mechanics' work underway above Dash and the other pilots made their way to the showers, peeling off their flight-suits and stuffing them in their lockers. The water was hot and melted away the chill, first exposing and then relieving the hidden aches the adrenaline had kept hidden until then. Unexpectedly, their captain joined them a few minutes later, her brilliant yellow body emerging like a star being born as she shrugged off her uniform. Once she had dressed down she took her place amongst the others, each standing side-by-side at their own shower-head. Fleet-Foot couldn't help but salute as the captain stepped up beside her, snapping to attention faster than her breasts could keep up, causing them to shake uncomfortably and flick water into the air. High-Winds snickered from behind her, but the captain merely gave Fleet-Foot a respectful nod, which seemed to satisfy her. The vindicated cadet tossed High-Winds a look that made her throw up her hands in a halting gesture, though she kept on smiling. "I thought we could perform our debrief here." said Spitfire with a grin, turning around and tossing her hair back with both hands, drenching it with water. The captain nodded at RD, waiting expectantly for her recounting of events. Dash explained everything while shampooing her tail, including her reckless charge leading the missiles into the swarm, which she expected Spitfire to scold her for. She didn't, though. "You came back in one piece, Ace." was all she said, raising her arm and soaping up the underneath, as well as the place where her breast met her torso. "Captain," said Dash. "Do you think we are in the clear? We took out the contacts, all of them, but we also made a lot of noise." Spitfire let the water touch her face for a moment, feeling it on her cheek bones and running down the sides of her muzzle. "I can't say for sure. We're still airborne, but we still don't know a whole lot about how the hives operate." Dash thought about the ambush force they had encountered in the cloud, lying dormant until they arrived. The data on that would be useful, and Scoots would know to extract it from the logs and submit it to the elucidation team for review and proliferation throughout the fleet, should they manage to make contact. And if they still exist. "If they come, we will fight." said Spitfire, running her fingers through her hair. "That's all there is to it. No sense dwelling on it too much. The course is set, the die has already been cast. Just enjoy the moment, Ace." Dash liked being called 'Ace,' but somewhere deep down it reminded her of her fears. What if I don't deserve this? What if I failed, and don't even know it yet? After their shower they retired to their quarters, except for the captain. She walked down the long corridor amidships and glanced through the doorway of the nav-com room, where data was being sifted through and adjustments to the course were being made by tired members of the staff. Further on, some of the Interceptors had been lowered into the hangar bays to be worked on without interference from the wind and rain. She saw Scootaloo extracting the flight recording from Dash's mech and nodded when she caught her eye. The young girl smiled and gave a relaxed salute, then returned her focus to her data cypher. Spitfire climbed the ramp and emerged once more from the middle passageway, this time with no cadets waiting. Only a sky full of clouds lay before her, and whatever it was they were hiding. If they’re out there, I’ll find them. She took a deep breath, tossed back her fiery mane and smiled bright. Author's Note Took me a while to figure out where I wanted to go with this. It was difficult at first to turn the images and feelings I had into something conveyable. Originally this story was going to be about fighter jets, and revolve around a rivalry between RD and Indigo Zap. I may still use Indigo at some point, if I decide to carry on with this idea, but for now this story at least is complete. There is a great deal of uncertainty at the end, as the nature of the threat is not well understood by the characters, separated as they are from their allies, (if they are even still out there.) I’m still deciding how I want to expand upon the intricacies of the Swarm, and wanted to leave this story somewhat open-ended in case I decide to do more with that in the future. Cheers!
Mounting UpIt was raining. Emerging from the middle passageway onto the landing terrace, Watch Commander Spitfire walked confidently across the slick stone toward the waiting cadets and their machines, unfazed by the darkening clouds and the rumble of distant thunder. Sheets of water driven by the winds spilled across the cobbles, flowing through the cracks and into the drainage channels, tumbling overboard and turning to mist. Her boot-clad hooves made splashes where they fell; her mane and tail trailed behind her like plumes of fire, wind-tossed yet determined to burn. She stopped before the arc of rookies, all standing before their ‘Drakewing’ Interceptors in the torrential rain, clad in tight and glossy jumpsuits bearing their personal heraldry alongside the sigil of the Midnight Sun. Their Interceptor Suits were fearsome combinations of ancient tech and modern magic, resembling the flying dragons of the Gleaming Horde. Each was outfitted with a crystal Repeater-Bracelet and a pair of corrosive ‘Pesticide’ rockets enchanted with a homing spell and capable of melting the Reactive Carapace Armor of a changeling Swarm Drone. The cadets looked almost sad in their rain-slick flight suits, their manes and tails heavy with water and flattened by the downpour, but Spitfire felt a touch of pride seeing how they remained at attention regardless. At the front was Rainbow Dash, who had distinguished herself during training and was thus given command of the mission. She was an excellent pilot, though at times her confidence could make her reckless. Spitfire gave them all a curt salute and the young pilots returned it, flinging rainwater with each sharp motion. “Mount up!” cried the captain over the roaring rain, sending the cadets scrambling to their dormant strike craft. Dash climbed into the skeletal frame of her Drakewing and tightly fastened the control rig, which fit around her wings, wrists and ankles. Sensing her presence, the magical machine’s Paradox Core came to life and began sending power to the autonomous systems. Layers of blue metal started to unpack, sliding into place while smaller, interlocking scales meshed together to seal the suit between the heavier armor plates. From the outside it looked like Rainbow Dash was suspended within a flayed metal dragon, its body folding and tightening around her own. The captain approached Dash as she was still gearing up, wanting to speak face-to-face one last time before she was sealed away in her exoskeleton. “Captain.” said Dash, watching the magic-metal ensconce her arms and feeling it tighten around her legs. Her hooves were propped up as though on stilts, with raptor-like talons beneath them. Spitfire saw all this and approved, but her face was grim when she spoke next. “Remember, it’s not just you up there cadet, and this isn’t a simulation. There are no points if you don’t come back alive.” Before Dash could say anything in response Spitfire grabbed the zipper of her suit and yanked it all the way down to her navel, releasing RD’s compresses tits, which spilled out from her suit like a river bursting through a dam. With her limbs locked in the machine, she was unable to do anything about it except wince at the sudden cold and the sting of the the heavy, freezing raindrops now battering her bare breasts and slipping down into the recesses of her suit. “Ow—Hey!” shouted Dash, but the machine was already beginning to seal around her, shielding her from the rain just a bit too late. The last thing RD saw before the armor was shut tight was the captain winking and waving her fingers. For a moment, all was dark. The draconic helm had descended like a hood and now settled into place, flexible scale mesh connecting to the solid metal of the helm, which was supported by the suit’s powerful spine. With a chorus of hissing Needle-like protrusions on the interior of the suit emerged, pressing against the cadet’s body. The flight suit was intended to act as a buffer between them and her tender flesh, but thanks to the captain some of the needles made contact with her bare breasts, the sensation alarmingly intense. She gasped, and as if in response the darkness melted away and Dash could see the stone deck again and feel the rain on her metal skin, though the sensation was distant and dreamlike, except on her breasts. She felt naked and exposed, then remembered she was sealed in nearly 5 tons of electrum plating, but somehow that didn’t seem to help. Nevertheless, she leaned forward, stretching her metal limbs like a cat while flicking her barbed tail and extending her wings. The others did the same, each of them taking a moment to adjust to their mechanical bodies. When they were finished they all sat at attention, looking to Dash to lead them. The middle passageway was set down into the deck, with a number of metal rails on either side spanning the length of the ship. The captain watched from a safe distance as Rainbow’s electrum dragon stepped forward onto the runway and locked its fore and hind-claws into the catapult rails with a magnetic snap, angling her wings for launch. The captain crouched down, the rain finally taking its toll on her mane and tail. She tapped the deck, then extended her arm horizontally, giving the signal to launch. With a hiss of purple steam and the glow of arcane lightning the catapult pulled the Drakewing along the stone deck, sparks flying and tail lashing, then flung her out into the open sky. Fleet Foot was next, then High Winds, both falling in behind Dash and holding pattern around the carrier. The voice of the captain echoed in the helm of Dash’s Interceptor. “Superheavy to Blue Lead. Confirm green-line.” In the augmented reality HUD a heading appeared, skirting the storm. “Blue Lead copies, green-line confirmed.” Dash and her wing-mates ignited their afterburners and roared off toward the storm wall. It wouldn’t be long before they encountered the enemy for the very first time. Author's Note This began a long time ago as a story about fighter-pilots. Dash was always the protagonist but the story was very different. This will also be the first story with multiple chapters, though each will remain a crisp 1,000 words. I had two choices: cut the story down and exclude much of what I has written already or extend the story, which I had been working on intermittently for some time. I chose then to extend it, with each chapter being like a mini story that conveys a certain idea, but is more closely tied to the other(s) than the sequels I have written. I intend to make each chapter like a self-contained scene without any serving primarily as a bridge between other chapters, but we will see how things go. I’ve already got some key parts of the next one written and a general idea for the direction the story will take. Hopefully it will be fun for all of us. Cheers!
Clash in the CloudsThe drones fell upon them fast, and immediately their formation was broken by evasive maneuvers, the pilots trying to avoid being decimated by an opening salvo of swarm missiles. Without warning one of the drones folded its wings and dropped down on RD from above, crashing into her with incredible speed. She flared her wings and fired the afterburners, pushing back against the dark metal machine and bringing their sudden descent to a halt. Drawing up her legs toward her chest, Dash latched onto the drone’s waist with her metallic hind-claws. She kicked off, carving rending wounds in either side of its torso and putting some distance between the two machines. RD managed to plant a few rounds from her repeater bracelet into the drone’s weakened torso, disabling the sensory regulator, with a couple more striking the machine’s armored chest and assailing the changeling pilot with waves of unstable bio-feedback, causing it to awkwardly cup its sleek, metallic breasts and exhort a dull moan that Dash found somewhat disturbing. Trying to seize the moment, Rainbow closed the gap again with a quick burst from her thrusters, slamming her fist into the drone’s head, but not before it could drive its knee between her legs. After making contact it discharged a kinetic pulse from its semi-functioning plates and sent a modified feedback signal to Dash’s suit, stimulating her body with more pleasure than pain. Rainbow Dash let out a short breath with a slightly sultry intonation, then was sent backward by a desperate shove, the swarm drone pressing against her drake’s breasts where the bio-link was not dampened by her under-suit. Its palms sent another wave of altered bio-feedback that pumped a dull sensation to the swell of her breasts beneath her armor and a sharp one right to her nipples, rousing them until they strained against the needles, forcing them to adjust. Stimulated as she was, it only helped her focus on the moment. Gritting her teeth, she fired off one thruster and angled her wings to deliver a harsh roundhouse kick that drove her interceptor’s heel-spike into the swarm drone’s midriff, tearing into it and sending it spiraling to the clouds below. Back up above, the others were exchanging fire with the drones, dodging the acidic projectiles of their cocoon-cannons and peppering them with luminescent repeater fire. Fleet-Foot tormented her opponent, keeping them at range and never slowing down enough for the ponderous projectiles to hit, but soon she began to settle into a rhythm, and her mind wandered. The changeling seized this chance to change up their strategy, putting all their power to thrusters and closing in.. The pony pilot managed to avoid a collision, but it was a close thing; close enough for the changeling to hit her with a blast from its cannon, though it had to completely let down its guard to pull this off, and was swiftly dispatched afterward as its peculiar weapon did not immediately take Fleet-Foot out of commission. The ancient tech that allowed the pilots on either side to interface with their machines so completely also ensured that they could feel the impacts against the receptive armor plates. Hard impacts were dampened to protect the pilot while still warning them of damage, but the slightly acidic slime from a drone’s cocoon-cannon remained on the plates, overloading the sensors and torturing the pilot with constant, itching stimulation. “Ew, it’s sticky. I can’t get it off! Ah—ahh!” Fleet-Foot was breathing heavily, her transmissions becoming little more than sighs and moans. “Fall back for now!” said Dash, her cheeks flushed. “As soon as you are in range, let the Captain know you’ve been hit.” “Copy that, Ah-Alpha Lead!” replied Fleet-Foot, withdrawing and leaving High-Winds and Rainbow-Dash with one final opponent. High-Winds was holding her own, but her opponent was quick and evasive. Now and again they would clash, claw against claw, then separate again, an arc of repeater shots drawing a bridge in the sky. Dash added her own shots to her wing-mate’s, the weight of fire forcing the changeling to pull away. Outnumbered and outmatched, the swarm drone chose to retreat rather than risk annihilation. “We can’t let it get away! If the Storm-Nest is alerted it’s all over!” shouted Dash. The two of them fired their own missiles, the homing-enchantment leading them to the drone just as it entered a cloud-bank. Twin detonations like artificial lightning lit the clouds from within, revealing foreboding dark shapes that began to stir. “Is that the Storm-Nest?” asked High-Winds. “Did we wake it?” “We woke something.” said Dash. “If it were the Storm-Nest we’d know. This is just a pocket of sleepers, meant to activate if a large enough ship sails too close.” The sleepers wouldn’t rouse the hive unless it became necessary, and lucky for them the drones still thought that they could easily manage the two Interceptors. It seemed even a hive-mind could still be stupid. The two interceptors made a fighting retreat, dodging shots and firing grazing volleys at the swarm-like formation of the enemy pilots. Aggravated by the evasive tactics, the drones fired off all their swarm missiles at once, a terrible corona of dark needles blooming, then darting for the ponies at great speed. “Fall back!” shouted Dash as she herself advanced, flaring her afterburners. “What are you doing?” asked High-Winds, watching in horror as the needle-like missiles converged on Dash like a grasping hand. “Just keep your distance and watch.” she said confidently, her tone putting High-Winds at ease a little bit. At least she knew Dash didn’t intend to sacrifice herself. She did as she was told, watching as Dash sailed toward the enemy formation, the missiles turning inward like a funnel and following her as she nimbly dodged and weaved through cannon-fire. Dragging the missiles behind her she speared through the heart of the enemy formation, the projectiles in-tow slamming into the mass of swarm drones. A terrible moaning erupted from them then that did not go unheard. Author's Note Part two! Containing some of what I had originally intended to include in the first part, back when it was going to be the only part. I have an idea of how I want to conclude the story, and hope you will stick around for part three. Cheers!
HomecomingSpitfire felt a swell in her breast at the sight of the returning Interceptors. The ground grew scrambled to set up, keeping fire-extinguishers and medical staff on standby. The draconic mechs hit the deck one after another, claws sparking furiously as they tore through the arresting cables, snapping them one by one until the fearsome machines finally ground to a halt. As the engines powered down the arcane light faded from the thrusters and the metal cavities opened to deposit the pilots on the deck. Dash ripped the suction cups from her breasts before leaping down, her hooves splashing. Her tits felt like weights trying to make her fall, but she regained her balance and straightened up. Spitfire approached as RD stepped away from the frame. When she noticed the captain coming her way she stuffed her boobs back into her jumpsuit before standing at attention. High-Winds made her way over after dismounting her own machine and stepped up beside her comrade, giving the captain a curt salute. When Spitfire put them at ease, High-Winds suddenly hugged Rainbow-Dash, squeezing her tight and standing on one hoof, leaning into the slightly larger pony with all her weight. Spitfire laughed at Dash's uncomfortable expression, and after a moment even RD managed a smile. "That was amazing!" said High-Winds, stepping back and clasping her hands behind her, her own face flushed. Spitfire was intrigued, even raising an eyebrow. "I'll expect details at the debrief, but for now..." Spitfire gestured over to the middle passage, where Fleet-Foot was emerging onto the deck, looking right as rain. Both pilots were relieved to see her, and she them. RD offered her a handshake, and High-Winds embraced her, though more delicately than she had Dash. Fleet-Foot was still a touch overly-sensitive but did her best to hide it. More than anything she was glad that her friends made it back. Though she said nothing, she had felt guilty retreating and leaving them alone. She didn't have a choice, but if something had happened she would never have forgiven herself. Not long after the mechanics emerged to perform diagnostic checks of the returned hardware. "Let's get out of their way." said Spitfire, leading the others below deck. With the mechanics' work underway above Dash and the other pilots made their way to the showers, peeling off their flight-suits and stuffing them in their lockers. The water was hot and melted away the chill, first exposing and then relieving the hidden aches the adrenaline had kept hidden until then. Unexpectedly, their captain joined them a few minutes later, her brilliant yellow body emerging like a star being born as she shrugged off her uniform. Once she had dressed down she took her place amongst the others, each standing side-by-side at their own shower-head. Fleet-Foot couldn't help but salute as the captain stepped up beside her, snapping to attention faster than her breasts could keep up, causing them to shake uncomfortably and flick water into the air. High-Winds snickered from behind her, but the captain merely gave Fleet-Foot a respectful nod, which seemed to satisfy her. The vindicated cadet tossed High-Winds a look that made her throw up her hands in a halting gesture, though she kept on smiling. "I thought we could perform our debrief here." said Spitfire with a grin, turning around and tossing her hair back with both hands, drenching it with water. The captain nodded at RD, waiting expectantly for her recounting of events. Dash explained everything while shampooing her tail, including her reckless charge leading the missiles into the swarm, which she expected Spitfire to scold her for. She didn't, though. "You came back in one piece, Ace." was all she said, raising her arm and soaping up the underneath, as well as the place where her breast met her torso. "Captain," said Dash. "Do you think we are in the clear? We took out the contacts, all of them, but we also made a lot of noise." Spitfire let the water touch her face for a moment, feeling it on her cheek bones and running down the sides of her muzzle. "I can't say for sure. We're still airborne, but we still don't know a whole lot about how the hives operate." Dash thought about the ambush force they had encountered in the cloud, lying dormant until they arrived. The data on that would be useful, and Scoots would know to extract it from the logs and submit it to the elucidation team for review and proliferation throughout the fleet, should they manage to make contact. And if they still exist. "If they come, we will fight." said Spitfire, running her fingers through her hair. "That's all there is to it. No sense dwelling on it too much. The course is set, the die has already been cast. Just enjoy the moment, Ace." Dash liked being called 'Ace,' but somewhere deep down it reminded her of her fears. What if I don't deserve this? What if I failed, and don't even know it yet? After their shower they retired to their quarters, except for the captain. She walked down the long corridor amidships and glanced through the doorway of the nav-com room, where data was being sifted through and adjustments to the course were being made by tired members of the staff. Further on, some of the Interceptors had been lowered into the hangar bays to be worked on without interference from the wind and rain. She saw Scootaloo extracting the flight recording from Dash's mech and nodded when she caught her eye. The young girl smiled and gave a relaxed salute, then returned her focus to her data cypher. Spitfire climbed the ramp and emerged once more from the middle passageway, this time with no cadets waiting. Only a sky full of clouds lay before her, and whatever it was they were hiding. If they’re out there, I’ll find them. She took a deep breath, tossed back her fiery mane and smiled bright. Author's Note Took me a while to figure out where I wanted to go with this. It was difficult at first to turn the images and feelings I had into something conveyable. Originally this story was going to be about fighter jets, and revolve around a rivalry between RD and Indigo Zap. I may still use Indigo at some point, if I decide to carry on with this idea, but for now this story at least is complete. There is a great deal of uncertainty at the end, as the nature of the threat is not well understood by the characters, separated as they are from their allies, (if they are even still out there.) I’m still deciding how I want to expand upon the intricacies of the Swarm, and wanted to leave this story somewhat open-ended in case I decide to do more with that in the future. Cheers!
