The New Recruit

Spitfire was quick to file the paperwork, even having Luna sign off on the modifications Ace had made to the deal. The following morning, his belongings were packed up and loaded into the back of a small chariot. Soarin had volunteered to go with him, and the two would be sharing a trailer until Ace could have one of his own.

As he flew, Soarin looked back and saw Ace staring at his hooves. "Something wrong, newbie?" he called back.

Ace looked forward. "N-no. It's nothing. I'll be fine."

"You will," nodded Soarin, turning his head forward again. "You're going to be great. Trust me."

"Oh, I do," chuckled Ace nervously. "You think I'd have climbed into this thing if I didn't trust you?"

"No," shrugged Soarin. "On the other hoof, you won't tell me what's wrong, so do you really trust me, or are you just saying that to make it seem like you do?"

"I'm fine," waved Ace, "I'm fine, I'm just... a little bit peckish, that's all."

Soarin nodded. He knew otherwise, but he couldn't force it. Not yet, anyway. "We'll find you something to eat once we land."

Ace returned to looking at his hooves. He was trying to convince himself that he'd made the right decision; that this was what he wanted. He'd said it himself, that he wanted to be a Wonderbolt, and now he was one. He wasn't the youngest, the fastest, the strongest or the most resilient, nor was he the most talented. But he'd been selected by a Lance-Paladin to be included, anyway. And while he was listed as a Lance-Squire, meaning Soarin outranked him four times over, he was still being selected to perform as a Wonderbolt in uniform.

It wasn't long before they landed and started unloading Ace's things into Soarin's trailer. It was barely larger than his dorm room, made smaller by the fact that there needed to be room for a micro kitchen and dining table, as well as all of the trailer maintenance tools. The bathroom was practically just a toilet and shower, separated from the living area by a curtain. And to make matters worse, there was only one bed; a single.

"Oh, don't worry," assured Soarin, seeing the look on Ace's face. "The bench for the dining room folds out. I think they make the beds for these things small on purpose to prevent us from bringing mares back to our trailers, you know?"

Ace nodded. He had grown accustomed to sleeping in a single bed with other ponies being able to watch him, but this felt different.

"I'll show you after we eat," smiled Soarin. "What do you feel like having for lunch? I can have it delivered."

"I'm not really all that hungry right now..."

"No? You said you were peckish on the chariot."

"... I did, didn't I?"

Soarin stepped closer and put a hoof on Ace's shoulder. "Look, kid. It's perfectly natural to be nervous your first time. It's especially scary to be tested in front of a live audience mere days from now when you haven't studied. I know the feeling. If you're having your doubts about it, all you have to do is say so."

Ace lowered his head. Obviously, Soarin had hit pretty close to the truth.

"Seriously, though, I'm starving. Longmese? I'm thinking some Longmese."

Ace nodded absently. With his approval, Soarin stepped out, found an assistant, and placed his food order. It was less than a minute before he returned to find Ace sitting at the table with his head in his hooves. With a knowing sigh, Soarin sat down across from him. "Talk me through it."

Ace just shrugged. "I don't know if I made the right choice."

Soarin shook his head. "Who can say? You've made a choice, and either it will work out or it won't. I can say that, maybe four times in my life, I've seen somepony plucked from the academy and directly woven into the Wonderbolts. Well, five, now, but of those four, three of them are still in the lineup. The one that failed was sent back to the academy, and now works at the weather factory as a snowflake designer. It's rare, but it happens, and you're probably still going to be fine, even if you crash and burn."

"Do you think I made the right choice?" asked Ace. "Or are you not allowed to say, either?"

"No, I'm allowed to say. Captain Spitfire wasn't allowed to tell you her thoughts because it was supposed to be your decision. You're contractually obligated to be here for the next month and a half, and I'm under orders to make sure that you do, and that it goes smoothly, though I do have the authority and permission to place you under arrest if you don't do your job; remember that. As for my thoughts, I agree with Spitfire. You should not have come. But you're here now, so we may as well make it work."

Ace shrank down a bit more when Soarin mentioned that neither he nor Spitfire thought this was a good idea. His stomach was turning over again, and he began to panic.

Soarin reached across the table and took his hoof. "Look at me, Ace."

Ace glanced up, but his mind was reeling, and he looked back down at the table until Soarin pulled his chin up.

"Like it or not, you're stuck here until the end of the tour. Just as, like it or not, I'm stuck watching you until you either return to the school or are fully cemented in place as part of the Wonderbolts. I could make a big stink about it, whine and complain, question every choice I've ever made up to this point and cry like a big baby, or I can do everything in my power to make it work. You're a smart stallion, Ace. I think you made the wrong move in coming here, but you're going to make a lot of decisions in the future. And perhaps those decisions, you'll be allowed to think about. Six weeks. That's how long you have to think about whether or not you want to go back to the academy. I can't decide for you, but I think you should."

There was a knock at the door, and the pony Soarin had sent had returned with food. Soarin accepted it and set it out on the table.

"Unless you'd rather stay, of course..."