The New Recruit

Spitfire rolled out of bed and onto her hooves. She had four more days before she had to return to court, and she wasn't looking forward to that. The best thing she could do was enjoy her next few days of office work, ruffling the feathers of the recruits, and setting up Ace for future success.

As she showered, she thought about all of the things that still needed to be done. There was the dizzitron landing and endurance tests, but she had every confidence that Ace would pass, then she had to pull some strings to set him up for private tutoring, then return him to vocational training, and somewhere in the mix, she had to make sure that she told him that he couldn't wear his Wonderbolt uniform to classes; that he'd have to return to the cadet uniform. He could keep the jumpsuit and wear it to events as long as he remained in good standing with the Wonderbolts, but not to classes.

As she stepped out of the shower and put on her officer's jacket, her thoughts turned to breakfast. She walked out into the hallway to find that Soarin had just stepped out, as well. "Mornin' boss," he yawned. "Sleep well?"

She nodded. "Well enough, I suppose. You?"

Soarin shook his head. "Came in late, barely slept."

"How late? It shouldn't have taken that long to put everything away."

Soaring grimaced. "I didn't actually stick around to put stuff away."

Spitfire raised an eyebrow. "That was a direct order, lieutenant. Do I need to bring you up on disciplinary charges?"

"I'm sure Ace finished cleaning everything up," calmed Soarin. "He's a fairly responsible pony. Why wouldn't he clean it up?"

"You'd better hope he did," she warned. "Since you've been here longer than he has, you're going to receive three times the flak he does if that field isn't clean."

For a moment, Soarin turned away, thinking about his options. He could go out there and check, and if he was wrong, he'd have to skip breakfast and clean everything up so they could begin. He did feel a bit guilty about leaving Ace to do the whole thing himself.

But then he looked down at his shirt pocket where a folded up stack of two papers was nestled. He had the information from the library that would help Ace find the books he needed. One hundred and thirty-four books in the library specifically dealt with wind as a proponent of weather, and while most of them were how to maintain control in a windstorm, there were plenty about creating winds. He'd written down the names and call numbers of each, and was going to give them to Ace today. And since he'd outright told him that before leaving...

"I trust that Ace would not abandon the task he was assigned." He dug in his hooves. "I believe that he knows how important it is to make sure your orders are followed, and I expect that he'll have everything put away, be well-rested, and waiting for us when we arrive."

When they arrived, not only was half of the obstacle course still sitting out, but there was a big cloud right in the middle of the field, and Ace was nowhere to be found.

Spitfire turned to Soarin. "Are you ready to scrub toilets for a month, lieutenant?"

Soarin sighed. "I don't understand what happened. He's been a model student up until now. What changed?"

"You'd better hope he didn't fall," warned Spitfire. "With nopony to catch him, he could be down on the ground right now. You'd better hope that he's in his room, or else it's your head."

Soarin swallowed. He'd put so much faith in Ace that he'd forgotten that he needed somepony to catch him if he fell. He had his cloud generator, sure, but if it broke for whatever reason, Ace would have no means of slowing his descent.

"Clean up this mess," commanded Spitfire. "Now."

Soarin immediately set about returning the equipment to where it needed to go. Two young mares stopped by to help him bust apart the clout mass that had formed in the middle of the field. He couldn't ask them to help him, but he was free to allow them to help as he put away the rest of the equipment.

The scary thing was, Ace had started putting the equipment away, and he'd been doing it correctly the whole time. That wasn't proof, per se, but it suggested that Ace had every intention of following Spitfire's orders. That meant that something had happened to stop him from working on it. It was very unlikely that he just gave up, and the more Soarin thought about it, the more terrified he felt. He now understood exactly why Ace had been a nervous wreck for the last few days, as Soarin had never once considered that he may be responsible for somepony's death. Somepony that trusted him. Somepony that depended on him. Somepony he'd failed to protect.

After putting away the last of the equipment, he returned to find Spitfire staring at the mares that were trying, and failing, to take apart the cloud. They were just students, after all.

"Ace wasn't in his room," informed Spitfire. "In fact, his dormmates said he didn't come in last night."

Sheer terror washed over Soarin. His chest tightened up, and he dove off of the edge. He had to know for sure.

He was stopped by Spitfire, grabbing him by the tail. "You finish up here. I will go down and look for him."

As Soarin lowered his head, there was a shrill scream from above, where the mares were taking apart the cloud.

"What is it?" asked her partner, who was busting the cloud fragments being sent her way. "What happened?"

"There's something in there!" the other shouted, pointing to a hole.

"Well?" urged Spitfire, turning to Soarin. "It's your job."

Soarin flew up to the mares and started ripping away chunks of cloud in the hole they'd made, tossing them aside until he breached the core of the cloud. Ace was lying at the center, his Wonderbolt uniform torn open, one of his cloud generators dented and spewing out a steady trickle of mist, and covered in cuts and bruises, still bleeding from his nose and mouth, leaving a stain on the cloud beneath him. To cap it all off, he had a word etched onto his torso with a black marker: "WINGLESS."