Glorified

I got my schedule for the week this morning and it looked like I’d be practicing till late evening until Friday. I sent it to Sweet Wing and she thanked me but didn’t say anything else. The sound of hoof to flesh was still ringing in my ears through the night, and that image hadn’t left my head either. I asked Cheesette if she’d be up late so I could call her. I have to talk about this to somepony, and if it’s gonna be anypony, it has to be her.

“Skittles!” Captain Spitfire called.

I shot to attention. “Yes, Captain?”

She raised a brow at me. “You good, kid?”

It was early. I hadn’t slept much last night and had been hanging out in the common room watching old practice sessions. Cameras weren’t a thing when Grandpa might’ve been a Wonderbolt, so I’d settled for watching some of Dad’s later sessions. The video quality was crap because of the early cameras they were using at the time, but it was good to see him instructing ponies his own age. He’s a little harsher and more commanding than when he trains the high school team.

I didn’t want to tell just anypony, but I spilled to Captain anyways. “My Grandparents got into a fight last night.”

She frowned, then checked her wristwatch. “We’ve got about a half hour before training starts. You wanna talk about it in my office?”

“Yes.”

I followed the captain back to the main building where she offered me a coffee and had me take a seat on her couch as opposed to in front of her desk. “I was gonna come get you this morning to talk about practice anyways, but uh, tell me about your folks.”

If anypony is gonna know, she might. “You don’t happen to know if there was ever a Wonderbolt by the name ‘Hang Glider,’ do you?”

Spitfire sipped at her coffee. “Can’t say I do. Do you know what generation he was? I might be able to find out.”

I shook my head. “It would’ve been fifty or so years ago. I don’t know what happened or why, but he found out that I’d joined when I went to tell him about my wedding last night—”

She almost spat her coffee out. “Y-your wedding?”

Whoops. “Yeah, I’m getting married in June. Uh, anyways—”

“No, stop.” She rubbed at her temple. “Is she a pegasus at least? Does she live here?”

Figured I wouldn’t get away with it. “No, she’s an earth pony from Ponyville.”

Spitfire groaned. “Ah, Kid, that’s… that’s not a good idea.”

I let out a breath. “Why?”

She took a deeper drink of her coffee, then set it down and crossed her hindlegs. “First off, interracial marriages can often lead to defects in kids. I remember Dash had this little friend she took care of sometimes—a heavy pegasus, solid bones, couldn’t fly, has a low life expectancy. Kid did everything she could to learn how to fly and she had her dreams crushed.”

“Oh, Miss Scootaloo? Her son is one of my best friends.”

Spitfire blinked. “She had a kid?”

“I mean, she has two, but Kickflip is Haze's age, Triple Ace is my age.”

“Huh.” Spitfire was lost in thought for a minute, but then came back. “Okay, so there’s the risk of defects, but there’s also the long-distance element. You can’t just fly back to Ponyville every night to see her, and if you have kids, you’re not gonna see them for most of the week either. You'll be living like a divorced couple, and that’s only if your kid happens to be a pegasus, and given genetics, that’s unlikely.”

I didn’t really think about that, but most weeks, I should be able to at least be home all day for a day. It’s not like I spent every hour with Cheesette in high school. “The kids can be whatever they come out like, that doesn’t matter to me, just that they’re ours. Besides, I’ll get at least a day every week to be with her. She has a phone, I’m gonna call her tonight. She’s not that far away.”

Spitfire shook her head. “Not… having her dad in her life does bad things to a kid’s psyche, Prism.” She rubbed at her forehead. “Look, sure get married, have fun, it sounds like you love this mare which is all well and good, but like, have the kids after you’ve reached the top of the Wonderbolts and retire. You can make all the money in the world here, set yourself up for life if you stick with me, but you won’t have time to be a husband or a father while you’re here, kid.”

Wait a minute here, is she, like, giving me real advice? After all the strong-arming she did to get me here in the first place, she’s trying to convince me like a normal person? What the hell? “Not to be rude or anything, Captain, but this isn’t what I wanted to get off my chest here. It’s a miracle I haven’t already gotten her pregnant. It's gonna happen one way or another and nothing anypony says is about to change my mind.”

The captain sighed. “Alright, sure, kid, I’m not your dad.” She downed the rest of her coffee. “I’m just… speaking from experience. I’ve seen careers end and sad stories play out from Bolts getting hitched, and I know one that starts like this and doesn’t have a happy ending.” She shook her head, then checked her watch. “What was this about a Hang Glider?”

“That’s Grandpa’s name. Dad’s Dad. I’ve been told more than once that he has a thing against the Wonderbolts and after telling them that I’d made the team… sort of by accident, he and his wife got into a fight about it.”

Spitfire tilted her head. “‘His wife?’ not your grandma?”

I shook my head. “No, she’s also an earth pony.”

“Ah, right, you said that during the game last week. I did give Aquilon a warning about that, but uh, we’ll see what he does. Only a few of C-team actually come from pegasus families and that Siccoro guy doesn’t have pegasus parents at all.”

He flies pretty well for somepony without pegasus parents. “That’s impressive.”

“You’re telling me. So, what happened?”

“Well, the fighting started, simmered for a bit, and heated up again when my actual Grandma got brought up. Grandpa said something really mean, Sweet Wing slapped him, and then left the house.”

Spitfire whistled. “Ho-lee shit.” In a strange, tender gesture, she put a wing around me. “Sorry, kid. That’s not fun to see.”

“It wasn’t. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since yesterday. Grandpa was just… broken. He called me Dad’s name by accident and then just… asked me to leave.”

Spitfire ran a hoof through her mane. “Dude was having war flashbacks. I uh… I know what that feels like. It’s not fun.” She picked up her mug, found it empty, then set it back down. “Tell you what. Training, working your heart out, is a good way to clear your head. When you’re confused, when you can’t think of a way forward, when you just need to get away, you’ve got the gift that lets you fly. You might not figure anything out, but you’ll at least feel better. There’s some chemical bullshit in your brain that explains it, but we didn’t need science to tell us what we knew before we had it.”

She took her wing back, stood, and picked up her mug. “I’m gonna have Monsoon and Pigeonhole tag along with you and Effie today. Teach them how to bank and see if you can’t draw some more power out of Monsoon. She ended up with a perfect score on her exams, so maybe just watching you will improve her. I don’t really know what to do with him without retraining him from the ground up, so if you think of something, by all means go for it. Show them why you’re the best.”

I guess, under the hard exterior of the captain, there really is a ‘Mama Spitfire’ in there, and from the sound of it, whatever happened with her and Effie didn’t have a fun ending either. I guess I really ought to sit down and think some things through. But, that can wait. I have a job to do, and I’ll have a family to support soon enough.

I stood and saluted. “Yes, Captain.” Oh! Right, I had something I wanted to say to her too. “And, I’ve decided I’ll take you up on that B-team thing. Because I’m getting married and I’ll probably have kids in the not too distant future, I wanna have the money to take care of them, and I know I can get it if I stay here.”

That probably made her day. She threw a hoof around my neck and led me out of her office. “Now that is the attitude I wanna see from you. As long as you’ve got a fire in you, we’ll make you a star yet, kid—no. Prism.”

I went with Spitfire and Raptor to the front of the training ground where the rest of C-team and Effie were waiting. She had me stand to her left side, and we were all wearing our uniforms and Thunderaid Jackets. A couple staff ponies and Effie had cameras with them.

I wonder if this is gonna be streamed…

“Allllll-right, newbies!” the Captain announced. “After gathering data all last week, I’ve determined that a lot of you kinda suck!” There was grumbling, but no distinct voices from the rest of the team. “To correct this, we’re splitting up into groups from now to Thursday. I’m not worried about the routine, so we’ll have Friday to practice before the show on Saturday at the arena. Until then, we’ll be going over each of your individual weaknesses and working on those in particular. Any questions?”

Aquilon stepped forward. “I have one, Ma’am.”

She nodded. “Shoot, Icy.”

He gave her a look like he didn’t understand what she called him, but went on anyways. “Why is he not back here with the rest of us, exactly?”

There was no question as to who ‘he’ was. Spitfire smiled and stuck her front leg out. “If you haven’t noticed, he has a Thunderaid jacket, like Raptor and I, and the rest of you don’t. We move product when our faces are on the screen. Thunderaid sales in Cloudsdale received a 5% increase after Monday’s broadcast, and it’d definitely not because Raptor and I were up there like usual.

“Monsoon, Pigeonhole!” She pointed to each of them.

They both saluted. “Yes, ma’am!”

“You’ll be working with Prism and Effie today. The rest of you will get your turn, and if you want to keep your jobs, you’ll play nice. You are to treat Prism as Vice Captain from now on, and you’ll take advice and orders he gives. Is that understood, everyone?”

Again there were grumblings, but after she glared at about half the team, they all saluted. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Good.” She looked at her clipboard. “Nightingale, Siccoro, Typhoon, Trade Wind, you’re with me today. The rest of you are with Raptor. Effie and our staff ponies will be capturing footage of today’s training session so that we can all review it later. That said, be careful what you say, and smile for the cameras.”

Some more enthusiastically than others, “Yes, ma’am!”

“Alright, you four with me, we’re using the 500 today! Let’s go!”

The Captain launched with impressive speed for a mare who's almost fifty. The guys sighed and flew off, while Trade Wind deliberately did a barrel roll for the camera with a wink and a smile as she flew off. She really showed off her feathers and wagged her tail for it too, which had me suddenly realize just how attractive she was. One more thing to not share with Cheesette.

“Prism!” Raptor called.

“Yeah?”

“Where you gonna be?”

Well, Pigeonhole needs to be taught how to turn, and I’m not entirely sure what to do with Monsoon, so the best place to do that would be… “The rally track, if that’s alright.”

He frowned. “Alright.” He walked away and addressed his group. “We’re using the half-track. Start with a warm-up, thirty laps around the half-track, two at a time.”

“So, um, Prism, what are we going to be doing today?” Monsoon asked.

I turned to see her, Pigeonhole and Effie all waiting for my instructions. With Effie here, it almost feels like I never left high school and I’m helping Dad with class again. I checked my own clipboard—Monsoon’s low to average times, and Pigeonhole’s horribly skewed stats. What are we going to be doing today?

“Well, let’s start by heading to the rally track. Follow me, please.” Thinking it’d probably be good for them and the camera, I made sure I was in perfect launch form before I took off. Effie picked up off the ground slowly and shakily, keeping the camera on me while the other two had decent launches and a little extra flying to reach my height. Once we were all here, we glided over to the rally track on the other side of central Cloudsdale.

We made decent time, and Pigeonhole could actually keep up with my average speed since we flew in a straight line, but Monsoon was several seconds behind, and we’d practically left Effie behind. She was still following us though, so I took my teammates down into the Rally track. Like the 500, this was an oval track, but it wasn’t nearly as long, and there was no baked-in route. Here, individual target rings floated in the center of the track, and they could be moved and linked as necessary. There were also tether poles, long clouds that racers needed to grab and hang sharp turns around during certain rally races. This is where I was going to have Pigeonhole today. As for Monsoon, I recalled the last rally race I did in High School and went about setting that circuit here. I’ll do it as quickly as I can to set a bar for her and see how fast I can get her to go.

“S-sorry!” Effie panted as she landed with the camera. “You guys are fast!” She brought the camera to my face and asked. “So, Mister Prism, what will you be having your team do today?”

I turned to address them. “Well, after watching you guys fly last week, I know that Pigeonhole needs help with his technique—”

“Yeah, that’s fair. My grandma taught me how to fly and she has real bad eyesight these days. I think I might have weird habits.”

Understatement of the century. “—and, to be totally honest, I’m not sure what to do with you, Monsoon.”

She frowned. “You… you’re not?”

I shook my head. “Nope. So, to that end, I’m gonna set up a track I raced, run it, and have you try to match my time. Every time you beat my time, I’ll set a faster one until we hit your limit.”

Her lips tightened. “Hit my limit?”

How do I put this delicately? Can I? Spitfire sure wouldn’t… “Uh, yeah. I’ve got a bunch of national high school records for rallies in my name and nopony has ever beaten my times. If you can, great there’s nothing for me to teach. And if not, we’ll figure it out.”

“I see.”

She definitely didn’t like that and I really hope she doesn’t come to hate me for it. She doesn’t seem like the type to have a huge, easily bruised ego though.

“Am I gonna be running this track too?” Pigeonhole asked.

I scratched at my mane. “Honestly, dude, I don’t think you could. Like, be real with me, did anypony ever teach you how to turn?”

He thought about that for a moment. “I don’t think so. Grandma always wanted to be fast, so we raced in straight lines a lot. Her eyes were never good enough to do tight stuff, so I never really did any of that either. My delivery jobs were mostly long distance anyways, so turning has never been something I needed much.”

Okay, that makes some sense. “Well, I think you can be really good, but we’ve gotta fix this turning thing. So, I’m gonna have you put on a harness, tie a rope to the top of the tether pole, and have you fly in circles. If you can start to turn normally, I guess you can try the track, but I really don’t want you destroying the rings.”

“Oh.” He looked at the tether pole, uncertain. “Uh, yes, sir, I guess.”

“Cool. Effie, will you go with him to get the tether and harness from storage?”

She saluted. “Yes, sir, Mister Prism!”

They went off together, and I turned to Monsoon. “Help me set up this track.” I turned my clipboard page over and drew the set-up I had in mind, leaving a wide space around the tether pole for Pigeonhole.

After a few minutes of set up, Effie and Pigeonhole returned with him on the harness, already attached to the rope. It had two very strong carabiners on swivels so it wouldn’t get tangled up in use. These ropes were typically used for sports like rock climbing so they could take about a ton of tension, but they weren’t unbreakable.

“Alright, Prism, sir, what do I do now?” Pigeonhole called.

“Clip yourself to the top of the pole and start flying. You want to keep slack in the rope as you make circles around the pole. Every time you make five, change directions and go the other way.”

He sighed. “Man, this is gonna be hard.”

I sure hope not.

“Prism, I’m done over here!” Monsoon called. I moved to the starting ring, and she and Effie followed.

This track wasn’t super complicated, but there were four tight turns and the one around the tether pole would be the exact same exercise Pigeonhole is doing but at speed and without a tether. This will be a test of her control even if she isn’t trying to beat me. Hmm, actually…

“Okay, I’ve changed my mind.”

“About what?” she asked.

“The order. You do this as fast as you can first. I want to see what time you can make without worrying about beating anypony.”

She frowned. “And you’re absolutely sure you can beat me?”

With the way she’d been flying last week? “I mean, do your best, we’ll find out.”

She let out a chuckle. “I guess we will. Alright, Vice Captain.”

“Effie, count her off please.”

“Yes, sir!” The violet teenager took to the air, keeping the camera on Monsoon with a whistle in her hoof.

Monsoon for her part got in launch form. What I immediately noticed was that she keeps her rear hooves together as opposed to spreading them out to get the most out of both hooves.

“Hey, spread your rear hooves a bit,” I said.

“Huh?”

I got into launch form myself. “Like this, your dominant side forward.”

She copied my pose, and with that at least, she should get a bit better start time.

“Are you ready?” Effie called.

“Yeah!” Monsoon replied.

“Three, two, one, go!” Effie blew her whistle and Monsoon launched.

She immediately ran into a problem at the first turn. The track was tight and curvy and if you can’t manipulate your wings to swoop almost at a 90-degree angle, you’ll lose speed in every turn. Rather than gliding to get into position for the turn, she went straight into it and tried to correct course too late. She went out of the track bounds, but not so far that it would disqualify her. She seemed angry, but went to the next ring.

From the hard right turn came a short straight into a hard left turn. It’s even harder to keep speed in this turn because you don’t have the boost from your initial launch. She needed to put power down right after the first turn, but because she had to correct, she did it too late and once again went off the track into the next straight.

Two penalties already, but she kept on and made her way down the first straight. It breaks into a long curve that then comes around into another short straight, leading to two more sharp turns. History repeated itself and she took two more penalties before getting into the turn around.

The final straight was into the tether pole. In high school races, there are ropes that spin around so that ponies can grab on if they need the extra help making the U-turn. In the pros, however, those are not there and you’re expected to make a high speed U turn. I know better than to try going into one of these at full speed so I always glide into them so I can put power back on as soon as I’m halfway through it.

Monsoon was not me though, and she went as fast as she could, lost control, and spun out. The tether is only the halfway point as she’s supposed to take the track in reverse from start to finish. I debated going to help her after she crashed into clouds, but angry with herself, she got right back up and started to run the reverse.

Normally, for something like that, you’re disqualified, but this is just practice. I used to spin out on the U turns too, but that was back in elementary school. Between Mom and Dad, I was never without somepony to tell me what I was doing wrong and how to fix it. I also learned pretty quick because Mom is relentless. I probably spent a week just doing U turns in quick succession just so that I’d never spin out again. To her credit, I still haven’t.

Monsoon had learned from some of her mistakes and managed to take the left turns properly, but still get them on the right turns. When she finally made it to the start and Effie blew her whistle again, Monsoon was fuming. Insulting her or pointing out her mistakes was not likely to make her improve, so the right thing to say—what Dad would say here is—“Was that your best?”

She turned on me like a whip. “No! Let me run it again!”

I didn’t like this tone. It sounded like desperation which is how ponies hurt themselves. “Okay, but tell me what went wrong first.”

She looked at the first big ring past the starting point. “Well, that turn is a lot sharper than I thought it was. They all are, really. I need to get in position before I even get close to it, but…” And then she thought deeply.

While she was lost in her head, I set my clipboard down and got to the starting point.

“Wait! I wanna run this again, I know I can do better!”

I nodded. “I know you can do better too, but rather than rush at it like you’ve got something to prove, watch me first and cool your head a little. Like my dad always says, ‘Second place comes in first more often than first does.’ You’ll tear a muscle if you rush at this, and that’s not going to keep you in the Wonderbolts for very long. Fly up with Effie and try to copy the moves I make with just your body.”

She chewed on her lip before saying, “Yes, Sir…”

“Effie! Count me off!”

And so she did. While it isn’t quite fair to throw a new rally track at her and expect her to do it perfectly, I’ve also only flown this once. Rally tracks aren’t meant to be learned and mastered, they’re meant to test your ability to perform specific maneuvers like sharp curves and U-turns at speed.

Following all the rules I’ve been taught all my life, I sped through the track about twice as quickly as Monsoon did it, discounting the penalties. I banked hard at my turns, put power in early then coasted to not lose control going into them, and at the U-turn, I did it just how Mom taught me. Flying is done in 3D. It’s not just that you can turn your wings and your body, you can also change your elevation amidst the turn.

“U-turns are just quick rolls. Go low, circle up and twist out. Learn this and you’ll never miss another one. This move is called an immelmann.”

For me, I took this track at a relatively easy pace. I could go faster, but hurting myself in training isn’t really the goal. After finishing, I flew up and joined Monsoon and Effie, taking note of the very slow but steady progress Pigeonhole was making on his turns. With the tether forcing him to keep within a certain distance, he was actually beginning to bank naturally.

“Prism, Prism!” Effie called, putting the camera in my face. “How did you make that U-turn? It almost looked like you did a backflip in the middle of it!”

A backflip? Don’t you know the technical term? “Uh, I kinda did. An immelmann mixed with banking mid-flight is almost like drifting a car in the air. The goal is to put as little pressure on your wings as possible while also making a very tight, sharp turn. Catch the air on your broadside, fold up and into it, then straighten out once your hooves are at a 45-degree angle from the ground.” I turned to Monsoon. “What do ya think?”

She was still looking at the track with wide eyes. “I… am beginning to think you’re as impressive as Spitfire says. I wouldn’t even begin to know how you made the U-turn, even with your explanation.”

I smiled. “Well, I know how to teach it, so let’s do that then.”

“Really?” She had sparkles in her eyes. I used to be on the other side of this interaction. Seeing something during a race or at a show, or even watching Mom and Dad screw around in the sky.

“Yeah, lemme show you.”