A Day With The Wonderbolts
A Day With the Wonderbolts
A Day With the Wonderbolts
Spitfire’s eyes flickered open and then immediatly clenched shut. She tried to reach for her cloud pillow so she could bury her face in it and drown out the rest of the world, but it wasn’t there.
That’s not a good sign.
She kept her eyes tightly shut; whatever was waiting for her out there... Spitfire was notready to deal with it. The gears of her mind slowly started to turn again as she groggily came to.
I...I don’t remember falling asleep. Where the buck am I? What the buck is going on?! Calm down, calm down. Breathe. Think... Headache plus sore jaw, that usually means one of two things:either I just crashed into something, or I got drunk and hit my head when I passed out. Now for the real test...
Next, Spitfire’s attention turned to her wings.
As any pegasus will constantly exclaim when it happens to them, being grounded is a living hell. A pegasi’s relationship with the sky is almost symbiotic. They crave the feeling of the wind beneath their wings and the freedom that only the open air offers. To them, freedom is almost as important as food.
Spitfire held her breath and gingerly stretched her wings. When they didn’t immediately hurt, she slowly tested all the muscles and joints of her sensitive appendages. Feeling no pain and that everything was in its proper place, Spitfire let out the breath she had been holding and decided it was time.
One eye cracked ever so slightly open, but she might as well have kept it closed for all the good it did her. Everything was blurry and hazy. Spitfire waited, but the world around her stubbornly refused to come into focus. She opened her eyes fully, and blinked a few times as her mind slowly reshaped the world into something that made sense.
Drunk it is then. Might as well know what I’m in for... she thought to herself.
As Spitfire began to look around, her vision slowly came into focus. She was draped across Soarin’s back, right next to Misty. That relieved her. Soarin had been watching out for her since before she made captain; if he was there, she didn’t have to worry. She glanced down.
Or not. Am I falling...sideways? No...I’m being carried, flown. By Soarin? Nope, he’s being carried too. Who is that blue mare?
That was when her headache reasserted its dominance, demanding her undivided attention. As much as Spitfire wanted to know just what the hell was going on, the all–consuming pain was making coherent thought impossible. So she decided to trust Soarin and go back to sleep.
Soarin’s here. I’m sure he’ll take care of everything. Soarin... always has... my...back.
Cold, ice cold... and it was everywhere.
Spitfire involuntarily gasped, inhaling some of the frigid water that had been unceremoniously dumped on her. Through the shivering and coughing, she managed to choke out a few words, “Hate you too, Soarin.”
After wiping the water away from her eyes, the now–soaked Spitfire looked up to see her accusation confirmed, not that there had been any doubt in her mind. After all, only Soarin knew the trick to getting most of a bucket of water inside their specially made flight suits. He called it a “trade secret,” but the rest of the ‘Bolts had a much less flattering name for it.
Soarin—the lieutenant and the most senior active member of the Wonderbolts—dropped the bucket and looked down at her, chuckling.
“Sorry Cap’, but you know the rules... besides, you definitely don’t want it getting back to PR that the Captain of the Wonderbolts was sleeping on the job.”
The threat of having yet another uncomfortable discussion with Picture Perfect about the merits of “maintaining the illusion”—as she liked to put it—was all the motivation Spitfire needed to start moving.
“Here, I’ve got a towel and your spare uniform all ready for you,” he said as he hoofed her the articles. He then turned and walked across the room towards what looked like a small chemistry lab that was set up on a table in the corner.
“What number will you be having?”
“I’ll take a s-six,” Spitfire replied, her teeth chattering as she shivered. “W-when are you g-going to explain to me why it f-feels like I got b-b-bucked in the face?”
Soarin turned back to face her, his smile was saying that he was going to enjoy this. It wasn’t often he had a wing up on his captain.
“Because you did get bucked in the face, and harder than I thought if you are asking for a six and don’t even remember why you need it.”
As he watched Spitfire struggle to her hooves, his amusement transformed into genuine concern and he took a step back towards her.
“Spits’... are you feeling ok? If you need to lie back down, I can cover for you. Picture Perfect won’t like it but–”
“I’m f-f-fine, mom,” Spitfire playfully interjected, “and hurry up with that s-six, this headache is killing me faster than having to l-l-look at your ugly face.”
“Aaaannnnnnd she’s back. Had me worried for a sec there, Cap’.” With a smile, Soarin returned to the table in the corner.
On top of his normal duties, Soarin was the alchemist for the Wonderbolts. It was a position that dated back to the group's founding. All Spitfire knew was that Soarin had inherited a little green book filled with recipes when the last alchemist retired. The potions he made for his teammates had various purposes, but they all supplemented the Wonderbolt’s training, or helped them to soldier through the various maladies that came with the job. There was no official name for any of the potions because each affected every individual member of the Wonderbolts a little differently, but they all agreed on one thing: they tasted like Tartarus.
Soarin dexterously used his wings to manipulate the finely ground ingredients and mysterious fluids into a glass that was suspended over a small burner.
“You know, I’m just looking out for you, Spits’. Celestia knows nopony else is stupid enough to try it.”
Spitfire had finished toweling off and was now mostly dry, but she was still shivering violently. She looked up to see Soarin remove her number six from the burner and place the entire glass into a tray of ice to speed cool.
“S-s-shove it, p-pie-flank, another one of your ‘i-incidents’ and we’ll see who’s looking out for who.”
“Ha ha ha, touché Cap’, touché. But remember, one of these days I’ll retire, and won’t be around to tuck you in at night. Then you’ll regret being so mean to poor, old Soarin.”
“Pfffffft...” Spitfire rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that line. Y-you’ve been talking about retiring for y-years, but we both know you're a lifer. You’ll be making me s-sixes and coddling the rooks until your p-pinions fall out.”
Soarin crossed the room with the glass held firmly between two of his primaries, and passed it to her when he was close enough. “Heh, you're probably right.”
It was yellow this time, and it smelled like mold and dead fish. She clenched her eyes shut, and tipped the beaker back while holding her nose shut with a hoof. Resisting the all–too–familiar shudder and gag as the potion’s aftertaste flooded her mouth was like trying to swim without getting wet, but she managed to keep the whole thing down, and considered it a net gain.
From across the room Soarin was slowly clapping. “I would have thought you’d have gotten used to the flavor by now.”
“Shut up you sadist. You could make them taste good if you felt like it.”
“Maybe, but you’ll never prove it,” Soarin grinned back at her. “Anyway, what’s the last thing you remember?”
The potion worked its magic and her headache dulled to a manageable throb, though that might have been one form of pain overshadowing the other. At the very least, it had been the perfect temperature, not quite hot enough to burn her mouth. As the warmth flooded her body, it drove away the shivers and put Spitfire in a much more pleasant mood. She let out a deep contented sigh and ignored the abhorrent flavor that was still covering her tongue.
Spitfire looked off into the distance and and frowned for a few seconds before she replied. “We were attending the Best Young Flyer competition... and then at the last performance... That white alicorn... no, not an alicorn, because her wings... melted? Right, her wings melted. We went to save her... and then she bucked me.” Spitfire groaned as her hoof met her face hard enough to leave a mark. “How many–”
Soarin was positively beaming as he cut her off, “Everypony, Cap’. Everypony saw it.”
“Uhhhhg-g-g-g-g. So what happened next? You and Misty saved us both?”
Soarin chuckled nervously as he rubbed his temple. “Ehehe, actually, she got us too.”
Spitfire stared at the embarrassed pegasus as though his mane were on fire. “You have got to be kidding. You’re bucking kidding right?”
“Afraid not, Cap’,” he said with a shrug.
Her hoof met her forehead much more violently this time. “Three Wonderbolts. She knocked out three Wonderbolts. You're useless, you know that right?” Soarin guiltily smiled as she stared him down. “So if she got all of us why aren't we...”
“Dead?” he finished for her.
Spitfire’s eye twitched. “I was looking for a more diplomatic way to say it, but yes. Why aren't we dead?”
“Remember the other contestant?”
“The blue mare with the crazy mane? She didn’t! All of us?!”
Soarin just grinned. “Wait, it gets even better. Remember those rumors a while back about some filly in flight camp pulling off the Sonic Rainboom?”
Spitfire's jaw dropped. “No! Just no. Are you trying to tell me that some pegasus I have never heard of pulled off a trick most experts think is impossible, and she did it while carrying three members of the Wonderbolts?”
“And a unicorn,” Soarin chipped in.
Spitfire just sat there in shocked silence for a few seconds, her mental gears visibly turning. “Well buck, I don’t see how we can announce anypony else as the winner. How was the rest of her act?”
Soarin thought for a moment “Ambitious but rough. She might have won anyway if she hadn’t feathered up a few times. It looked kinda like stage fright to me.”
It was Spitfire’s turn to pause and think now. “That makes sense, I hadn’t seen her before. Do you think this was her first competition?”
“Probably.”
“You know, I’m actually looking forward to spending the day with this kid.”
“Ya, if she can pull a stunt like that, she is bound to have a few good stories,” said Soarin.
Spitfire’s smile deflated and her eyes widened. “Wait, how long was I out? You haven’t already announced the winner, have you?”
“Nah, you were just out for a few minutes. We still have have a quarter of an hour before we announce the winner. Speaking of which, I’ll go get Misty; we should tell the Princess together.” Soarin flew off, leaving Spitfire alone with her thoughts.
A Sonic Rainboom... never thought I’d see the day. And by a non–’Bolt... I always figured it’d be one of us who’d finally pull it off. How hard must this kid be pushing herself? I wonder what she’s like? Heh, I guess I’ll find out soon.
The award presentation went smoothly. The Princess had even insisted on awarding Rainbow Dash herself. It had been a very simple ceremony: No fanfare, no crowds, just the Wonderbolts, Princess Celestia, Dash, and a few of her friends. Nothing like the formalities of the competition, or the thunderous cheering from the masses in the stands at the Wonderbolts usual performances. It had been simple, nice even.
It’s hard to get into stunt flying without admiring the Wonderbolts, but Dash was clearly a fan.Dash was the kind of fan that Spitfire would usually go to greatest lengths to avoid. Enthusiastic enough to be creepy, but not crazy enough to sick security on. On the other hoof, Dash had just saved all their lives. Spitfire owed her more than just a shot, and Spitfire planned to deliver.
And so with a Wonderbolt under each foreleg and another trailing behind, Rainbow Dash flew off into the distance.
Celestia’s heavenly radiance shone down on the four pegasi as they sat atop a large cloud bank just on the outskirts of Cloudsdale. Despite their altitude, the wind was only gently blowing through the group, and the warm afternoon sun was making them all drowsy. Soarin had been explaining Picture Perfect's lengthy list of ‘requirements’ and he was just starting to wind down. Beside him sat Spitfire and Misty who were struggling to keep their eyes open and in front was a very deflated looking Rainbow Dash. It turns out that a forty-five minute lecture on the finer points of public relations is enough to drown anyponies’ excitement.
Mercifully, Misty cut him off.
“Basically, if you think it might disturb whatever is stuck up the plot-hole of Equestria’s most irritable mare, we aren't allowed to do it.”
“I like the short version better,” replied Rainbow Dash. “Is she really as terrible as you guys make her sound?”
“No... she’s worse.” Said Spitfire as she wiped the sleep from her features. “She tried to ban the ‘Fire Tornado’ just because I ignited a few of our fans’ manes that one time.”
Dash’s jaw dropped upon hearing this. “But... but that’s what makes it so awesome!”
Misty grinned at Dash, “I know, right? Besides, if I recall correctly that's what the fans thought too.”
Spitfire chuckled, ”One of them actually made me sign his bald spot.”
Soarin, who had been looking rather miffed at being cut off, chose now to cut in.“Yes well, all boss–bashing aside, she does have a point. You remember last year, Cap’?”
“This story sounds fun, why haven’t I heard it before. Go on Cap’, tell us,” Misty chimed in.
“No way. I am not nearly drunk enough for that story.”
“So later tonight then?”
Spitfire shot Soarin a look that seemed to say ‘you’re pushing it,’ before slowly replying with, “Maybe...” Spitfire quickly changed the subject. “So, Dash. Today is our way of thanking you and congratulating you on winning the competition. What do you want to do?”
“Well...” Rainbow Dash said as she stood and stretched, electing a series of impressive series of cracks and pops from her legs and wings. She walked towards Spitfire until the two of them were nearly touching. “There is this one thing I’ve always dreamed of doing.” She set a hoof on Spitfire's chest and leaned in. Though the action triggered Spitfire’s panic face, and traumatic memories of last year, the blue mare didn’t seem to notice. Dash whispered something into her ear and then suddenly shot off into the sky, leaving a prismatic trail behind her as she raced away.
Misty wore a confused expression, clearly wondering what Dash had said.
Spitfire, who had recovered once Dash had spoken, was now smiling as she spread her wings and started pawing at the cloud below before answering, “Tag. You're it.”
“Ok, Misty, you go through the city. Flank her on the far side of Cloudsdale. You've got to get her lined up with us and one of those big cloud banks. Soarin, you and I will chase her in a V–formation driving her along the outskirts of the city. When Misty is in position, we nail her with the ‘Twister Launch.’ Alright? Go!”
Spitfire’s words echoed in Misty’s mind as she rushed toward Cloudsdale. She severely doubted that Rainbow Dash had been expecting a full–blown mare–hunt when she had challenged Spitfire to a game of tag.
A warm smile washed over Misty’s face as she entered the city. Cloudsdale had been her home before she had been recruited by the Wonderbolts and adopted their ‘always on the move’ lifestyle. The Cloudsdale Colosseum was one of the ‘Bolts’ favorite venues, but being on tour didn’t give her many opportunities to just fly through the city. Not that she had time to enjoy the sights.
Misty pressed her pegasus magic into a large field in front of her as she entered the city. It was a trick she had picked up as a kid after several citations for disturbing the peace with her powerful tailwind. Misty reached out with her magic field, creating a channel of low-pressure air all around her and immediately the wind calmed. As she flew, the field pulled her along more quickly while also thinning out the air, leaving behind only a slight draft as she rocketed through the city.
Misty flew just a few hoof lengths over the cloudy streets, weaving around the occasional cloud trotter and the fluffy white buildings. The yellow pegasus grinned as she blurred past the city sights and sounds. Now this is flying,she thought as she swerved and veered her way through her hometown. Her wings strained to keep her in the air as she navigated the hairpin turns and dodged pedestrians. Flying isn’t about speed or manipulating clouds. Flying is finesse and skill. This was her realm, and in the tight city corridors and crowded air–ways she was untouchable.
With a powerful stroke of her wings, Misty rose above the cloud form buildings for a brief moment in order to sight her target. Damn, that mare is fast. It looks like Spits’ and Soarin are having a hard time keeping up. I need to hurry... I wonder if Parasol has her windows open?
As she neared her friend's house, Misty grinned. They were open.
This was one of her favorite shortcuts. Parasol lived in a massive cloud bank on the outskirts of the city that had been shaped into an apartment building. There was no good way around the building and she would have had to fly up close to one thousand hooves to go over it. Luckily, her friend Parasol had two windows that lined up on both sides of of the cloud. Misty leveled out and tucked in her wings.
Parasol was with a hot date. His name was Silver Script. They both worked in the weather factory, though he worked in requisitions and only dealt with paperwork. They had met a few times when he had been sent to make sure special orders got finished on time, and they had hit it off pretty quickly. She had eventually asked him out. The date had been going pretty well even if Script wasn’t the most talkative pony around.
“Brrrrr, it’s kind of chilly in here, do you have to have the windows open?”
“Ah, sorry. It’s an old habit. An old friend of mine broke them a few times, and I just got used to the cross–breeze. I’ll go close them.”
Just as Parasol reached the window she was bowled over by a wave of pegasus magic and a familiar-looking blur. “Sorry Parry.”
“DAMN IT MISTY, EVERY TIME!!” She shouted once she had stopped spinning.
“Your old friend?... Wait, was that a Wonderbolt!?” He rushed to her side to give her a hoof.
Parasol sighed deeply.“Yeah remember that old friend? Meet Misty. Errr bad choice of words,” she took his hoof and pulled herself up. He was wearing the most wonderstruck look she had ever seen on him. Well, at least we have a conversation topic...
“Do... do you think she could get us tickets to a show?”
Parasol looked thoughtful for a moment and then smiled deviously. “Definitely.”
“So we’redriving her along the outskirts of the city hmm? ‘Cus if feels a lot more like we’re struggling just to keep up.”
“Now is not the time.” Spitfire huffed. “Damn, this mare is fast.”
“Well, she did just pull off the ‘Sonic Rainboom’. Are you really surprised?”
It was a fair question, and Soarin earned a glare for asking it.
“Well, when was the last time a non–’Bolt pushed you so hard?”
Maybe never, Soarin thought to himself. It wasn’t like they were out of breath or anything, but the usual winners of these kinds of contests were nowhere near the Wonderbolts’ level. This mare was making them work just to keep up. Soarin kept all that to himself and replied, “Point taken.”
Spitfire looked ahead at their target who was weaving back and forth, her prismatic contrail outlining her chaotic flight path. “At least she’s easy to follow.”
She watched as Dash glanced back and saw the two of them, and then headed straight for a large cloud. As she tore through the cloud, it dispersed into a thick fog, “I just had to open my mouth.”
Soarin whistled. “That’s tricky. She must work in weather.”
“I wouldn't bet against it. Alright, we go over.”
Soarin followed her lead and the two of them flew over the blanket of fog and once again caught sight of the unmistakable rainbow streak which was now headed off in a different direction.
“So she goes to the trouble of covering her course change with fog, and forgets to turn off that flashy flight trail? I don’t get it.”
“Hmmm... maybe she can’t,” offered Soarin.
“Please, it took me a month to master the thunder trails we use for the shows, and you’re suggesting she can’t turn it off!?”
Spitfire shot him a glare and tossed her mane. “Whatever, let’s split. You stay on her and I’ll drive her back towards Cloudsdale. When you see Misty, get ready for the ‘Twister Launch.’” With that, Spitfire put on a burst of speed and veered away from Soarin.
Soarin thought as he flew, this kid’s one heck of a flier. She has to be the same pony as the little filly who did that Sonic Rainboom all those years ago. Where’s she been hiding since then? And how did she get so good? If she had joined any teams or had graduated from West Hoof we would have noticed her, she couldn’t be self–trained... could she? Well that would explain why she can’t turn off that flashy after–trail of hers. But could she have really figured all this out on her own?
Soarin’s musings were cut off when he spied Misty shooting out of the city aiming to pull alongside Rainbow Dash. Well, here we go. Show time.
Soarin broke off his pursuit and angled up until he was a thousand hooves above the city. He then leveled off and dropped into a spiral maneuver. He tightened the loop until the diameter was only a few pony lengths across, and then stretched out his pegasus magic and started pulling the air into a strong whirlwind with himself as the center. Just as the walls of the tornado were starting to form, he felt Spitfire grab ahold of his front hooves with her own. She matched his speed perfectly, and squeezed twice, their signal for two more rotations.
One...Two... and then Soarin flared out his wings, dragging the two partners into the center of the whirlwind and increasing their rotational speed exponentially. Putting as much extra torque into it as possible, Soarin threw his partner. The loss of her weight as a counterbalance threw Soarin clear of the twister and it took him a second to recover. Once he had, Soarin looked with satisfaction as Spitfire hurtled like a meteor through the sky at over triple her maximum speed: straight towards her target.
Tag was Rainbow Dash’s favorite game, and this was the first time she had gotten to play in years. So, needless to say, she was enjoying herself. The sad fact of the matter is that once you are the best at something, the challenge that makes winning fun disappears; also, nopony wants to play a game they know they’ll lose.
Dash didn’t get a chance to play flight–games with other pegasi who were on her level very often; that was why she had challenged Spitfire. Not because she thought she could win, in fact, she was expecting to lose. No, the speedster just wanted to be challenged... to feel the adrenaline and excitement of struggling in a friendly competition that she wasn’t guaranteed to win.
So Rainbow Dash was grinning as Misty pulled alongside her.
“M-Misty how did you–”
“‘Sup Dash? Ah, and sorry in advance, but you need to be over there, like right now.”
With that, Misty leaned sideways, planted all four of her hooves on Dash’s flank and gave her a solid shove towards the nearby cloud bank.
Dash managed to gain control just before she crashed into the huge cloud bank. “Hey! What was that fo–Oooffff”
Spitfire slammed into Dash and carried her into the cloud bank below. They hit with a muffled wumph, and the cloud broke into several smaller pieces.
Dash’s eyes rolled in their sockets as Spitfire stood over her. She moved to shake her com
panion back to reality, but stopped when she noticed the miniature blue pegasi flying circles around the larger one’s head.
“Well that’s telling,” mused Spitfire. Though with skills like hers I suppose it’s to be expected. Still we’ll have to put that ego in place later...
Dash lifted her head and blinked a few times, trying to straighten out her vision. “Did anypony get the number of that zepplin?”
Spitfire gasped and covered her mouth with a hoof. “Are you calling me fat!?”
Dash immediately snapped out of it and started sputtering, only to have Spitfire cut her off with a hoof in the mouth before breaking into raucous laughter.
As Spitfire’s mirth died down, Misty and Soarin landed behind her. She removed her hoof from its temporary home and not too subtly wiped it on the cloud beside her. “Alright, Kid, three things you should know about the Wonderbolts: first, ’Bolts are inseparable, second, ’Bolts take every break we can get, third, we work hard, and play harder. So next time you challenge the captain of the world’s best flying team to a game of tag you should lay down some more ground rules, because ‘you’re it’ gives me a lot of options. So, now that that’s out of your system, what’s next?”
Dash grinned, “I’m it.”
Soarin leaned in close to Spitfire and whispered into her ear. “She’s kidding, right?”
Two hours later, Dash practically collapsed onto one of the few clouds that were left after their extended game of tag. Spitfire had insisted that Dash take Misty as her partner, and had very quickly come to regret her generosity. The cloudscape was in shambles. Most of the fluffy sky drifters had either been used as projectiles or dispersed when one of the speedsters tore through it. “ Now that... was fun. You really gave me... a run for my bits!” panted Rainbow Dash.
Dash was thoroughly out of breath and her wings were starting to burn, but it had been the most fun she’d had in years. At first Spitfire and Soarin had dominated with the ‘Twister Launch.’ It had taken being knocked out of the sky a few more times before Misty and Dash had mastered the timing for dodging it, but it had been worth it. Spitfire was still spitting out bits of cloud, and after that, it had been anypony’s game.
Misty landed beside Dash. She was equally tired but she wasn’t about to show it. Being a Wonderbolt meant performing the most difficult kind of trick–flying there was no matter how exhausted or worn out she became.
Spitfire and Soarin landed next in sync and strutted over to their companions. “I was beginning to think we would never wear her out.”
“Yeah,” responded Spitfire. “If she kicks her game up a little, someday she’ll be half as good as we are.”
Misty just smiled and enjoyed the act. The two were putting on a good show, but Soarin was struggling not to drag his hooves and Spitfire’s wings were drooping a little. She doubted that anyone who wasn’t a member of the ‘Bolts would have been able to pick up on just how tired the two were. The truth was that Dash was in incredible shape. She had more speed and stamina than any non–’Bolt Misty had ever flown with.
“Well kid, if that’s all you’ve got, I guess we can’t hold it against you. So what’s next?”
Stubborn defiance burned in Rainbow Dash’s eyes and she leapt to her hooves. “What are you talking about, I could do this all day!”
Spitfire’s eye twitched and Soarin visibly wilted at the prospect of having to take to the skies again. It was all Misty could do to keep from laughing as his face paled and his back legs started trembling, but one jab from Spitfire and he snapped back into his stoic mask.
“I know! Lets do one of your routines! I know ‘em all by heart.” Dash dug at the cloud and smiled guiltily, “Performing with you guys would be the coolest thing. Like ever.” Dash blushed slightly as she said this.
How do I say no to that? Spitfire gulped, “Which one’s your favorite?”
“The ‘Thunder Vortex’!”
The blood drained out of Misty’s face like the ocean at low tide, “You mean the one we performed in Manehatten that destroyed the stadium?”
“Yup!”
Soarin’s back legs gave out. “The trick that Celestia called ‘A reckless disregard of the safety of the populus’ and then outlawed within all city limits?”
“She did? That’s awesome!”
“The performance that made Picture Perfect threaten to taxidermize the entire team and turn us into a parade float?” Spitfire shuddered at the memory.
“You’re making this sound like even more fun than I thought!”
“Ok, can you give us a minute, Dash? We need to talk this over.” It took another jab to get Soarin moving again but then the two flew off to a nearby cloud.
“Uhh, sorry Dash. This will only take a second.” Then Misty joined her teammates, leaving Rainbow Dash with her thoughts.
“This is a terrible idea.” Spitfire stomped her hoof, and little puffs of cloud dispersed around it. “If Picture Perfect finds out we did the ‘Thunder Vortex’ without the entire Cloudsdale weather team on standby she will kill us, literally kill us. And it’s the loopty looping ‘Thunder Vortex!’ It’s not like we can do it quietly! That isn’t even mentioning how stupid it would be to try it with somepony we barely even know!”
Misty was thoughtful for a moment, “Na, I think Dash could pull it off. Did you guys feel how much air she was displacing with her wing–strokes? The kid is a tank.”
Spitfire turned to stare at her, a look of incredulity painted across her features. “It doesn’t matter if you think she could pull it off, because we’re not going to bucking do it!”
Misty held her hooves up defensively. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally with you there, this is a terrible idea. I’m just saying it wouldn’t be impossible.”
Spitfire let out a heavy sigh, ”Good. So, the question is, how do we get her mind off the trick?”
Soarin, who had been unusually quiet this entire time, chose now to speak up. “I say we try it.”
“What! Are you out of your cloud–tripping mind!?”
“Cool your head and just hear me out Spits’. It’s like Misty said, the kid is a tank. I bet bits to barley rolls she could keep up with us for the rest of the night, and we have a gig in Canterlot tomorrow. Now I’m already tired, and I know you both are too. Even if we talk her down into a different routine none of us are going to be in any kind of condition to perform tomorrow. But, the ‘Thunder Vortex’ is just one trick, if we let her lead it–”
“Whoa whoa whoa, hold the train,” interrupted Spitfire. “Now you not only want us to perform our most dangerous stunt, you want us to let a non–’Bolt lead it!? This is a first–class bad idea.”
“Just let me finish Spits’. The kid can hold her own on our level so I doubt the lightning will even phase her. Besides, she must work in weather; she’s probably better at manipulating the stuff than I am, and if we set up a cloud catch we won’t have to worry about her derping on the landing.”
“He’s right.” Said Misty. This earned shocked looks from both Spitfire and Soarin. “But a cloud won’t be enough, we would need to do it over a lake. No... that would kill the fish... What about some kind of artificial lake?”
Spitfire took a step back as if she had been slapped, “Y-you can’t be serious Misty! I thought you had my back on this one! There is no way this is a good idea.”
Misty winced, “I’m not saying this is a good idea, but Soarin has a point: this would get us through the day. The trick puts the most drain on the pony leading it; I can’t think of any other way to wear the kid out that will leave us fit to fly for tomorrow. Unless you want to let down our ‘biggest fan’ here.”
Spitfire paced back and forth nervously as she chewed on lower lip for a few moments. “Ok, but, only if she confirms that she works in weather. Ugghhh I am so going to regret this...”
“Well...” said Misty. “The ‘Thunder Vortex’ only takes three fliers, who gets to sit out? Since we are all already tired I vote we forgo the usual race and–”
“Dibs.”
“Damn it Spitfire!” Misty and Soarin yelled in unison.
Dash didn’t like waiting, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be patient. She closed her eyes and felt the wind on her wings and the sun on her back. The air was thin and crisp, the telltale signs of the high atmosphere that she loved so much. There was nothing to listen to this high up; the wind didn’t make any noise as it passed through the clouds, gently carrying them along, and the birds never came up this high.
She walked over to the edge of the cloud and looked down. They were about halfway between Ponyville and Cloudsdale; it was a very empty part of Equestria. Far, far below there was an open field. The trees had been cleared for construction material long ago, so from up on high, it looked like a sea of green. The field seemed to shimmer as a gentle wind blew the grass back and forth.
Rainbow Dash was so caught up in enjoying the view she almost didn’t notice as the three Wonderbolts rejoined her. Almost. Dash turned around to see them land on the other side of the small cloud.
“Dash, quick question. Where do you work?” It was an innocent–sounding question, but from the looks on the Wonderbolts faces Dash could tell it was important.
“I’m the chief weather mare for Ponyville. For big storms and stuff I can recruit other pegasi, but really it’s all me.” She buffed a hoof on her chest.
“Called it,” said Soarin to nopony in particular as he stepped to the front of the group. “Okay with that settled, not only are we going to perform the ‘Thunder Vortex,’ we are going to let you lead it.”
“Awww yeaaah!” Dash jumped into the air and started hovering. She radiated excitement and confidence. “This is going to be the best Thunder Vortex you have ever seen!”
That worried Spitfire considerably.
“Easy there kid, we have quite a bit of prep work before we can pull this off, but here’s how it’s going to go down: Spitfire and Misty will be your wing–mares, while I’m on screw–up patrol.”
Spitfire’s face cracked into a manic smile and she turned to stare at Soarin.
This didn’t go unnoticed by Soarin as he continued. “Uhh... first we find the nearest artificial lake, that will be our our LZ. Then, um... we gather clouds, the Vortex will need a lot of clouds. We’ll do a couple of practice runs with the ‘spin’ and ‘slingshot’ parts, then we...um...we go for it.”
Still staring down Soarin, Spitfire spoke through clenched teeth. “Sounds like a plan. Partner.”
“Ponyville has a small reservoir. Come on, lets go!.” Dash took off at a gentle speed. The reservoir wasn’t far, and she was on the look out for the clouds they would need. Misty drew alongside Soarin as they flew.
“You broke dibs: this is going to be fun to watch.” She said flaunting a smirk.
Just then Spitfire dropped along Soarin’s other side, grinning wildly. “That was low. That was very low. Now, normally I would be very angry, but as it happens, you solved a problem for me with that stunt of yours.”
Soarin thought fast. “Wait a sec, Cap’, I know you had dibs, but I also know how you like to impress the newbies, and I figured you just hadn’t thought of that when you called dibs.”
The look on Spitfire’s face transcended mere disdain. “Nope, you’re not getting out of this that easily, but nice try.” Soarin gulped. “You see here’s the problem: how do I not get yelled at by Picture Perfect for three hours for this? You solved that problem.”
“Spitfire... what are you doing?” Soarin skipped a wing stroke, as he asked nervously.
“You see, now I won’t feel bad for pinning it all on you.”
“Dear Celestia, no.”
“What do you think, Misty? Are you with me?”
“Misty, don’t do it. I’m begging you!”
Misty rubbed her chin, with a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Hmmmmmm, well he did break dibs, but what’s in it for me?”
“I’ll take you off cleaning rotation for a month.”
“MISTY, PLEASE!”
“Done.”
“I’m doomed.”
“Great! So when Picture Perfect asks: this is all Soarin’s fault.”
Soarin was desperate. “I’ll trade you! You can sit out! Anything you want!”
“No way. It is much too late for that buddy. Besides, I was curious about what Picture Perfect would do when she found out, but now that I’m out of her storm path, I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’ll bring the popcorn,” said Misty.
The reservoir was nearly perfect. Though it was a little on the small side, it was far enough from Ponyville that they wouldn’t draw a crowd, deep enough for a safe–ish landing at most speeds, and secluded enough that nopony would notice them setting up. Most importantly though, there were no fish.
Ponyville was scheduled to be partly cloudy, so the raw materials they needed were plentiful. The pegasi started gathering up and sorting through the sky drifters. They needed thick water–laden rain clouds that would hold a charge, but partly cloudy isn’t the same is scattered showers.
Misty waved a hoof through the one she was moving. “These clouds are too wispy. We need them to be thicker.”
“Is that all? Pass it over here.” Dash let go of the cloud she was pushing, and with a flap of her wings, she was hovering a dozen hooves above above it. Misty gave her cloud a good shove Dash’s way.
“Hey, listen up. Cloud mixing 101.” Dash caught Misty’s cloud and positioned it over her own. She then landed on top of it. “You can’t just push ‘em together. If you do that they only get bigger, we want ‘em thicker. You’ve gotta empty one into the other.” With that Dash jumped up and landed heavily on the cloud, which immediately burst into a light shower that lasted only a few moments. The cloud below absorbed all the raindrops and darkened significantly. Dash flared out her wings, preventing herself from landing too hard on the now water–laden cloud. “Just be careful not to fall through and set them both off. Got all that?”
Spitfire flew over and looked at the cloud Dash was standing on. “Could you move for a sec, kid? I don’t wanna shock you.” Dash vacated the cloud as Spitfire flew a tight circle around it, examining it from all sides. Then Spitfire focused her pegasus magic into a tight field on one hoof. In a second the air around her leg darkened and began to crackle with the same lightning they used in their thunder trials.
“ooOOoo, can yo–”
“Yes,I can... but electro–hoof–bumps are a bad idea.”
“Darn.” sulked Dash.
Spitfire poked the cloud with her electrified hoof, charging it with energy. The angry–looking cloud crackled ominously for a second and then calmed back down. Once it had, Spitfire gave it a gentle kick. The thundercloud shot out a small lightning bolt, completely draining its charge.
“Perfect!” said Spitfire. “Alright we’ll need twenty or so more just like this, and then we’ll be ready. Let’s get hopping.”
The clouds had been gathered, condensed and spread out high above the reservoir. Misty and Spitfire had walked Dash through the trick at low speed several times. They were ready. Hopefully.
Misty and Spitfire took off to start their first part of the routine; Dash would join them in the air shortly.
Soarin flew over to Dash to give her some last–second advice. “Remember, the entire thing hinges on you aligning your charge with Misty and Spits’ when they grab you for the throw. Since you guys will be going three times as fast, you won’t have as long to do it, so remember to–”
“Yeah, yeah. We went through it like five times. I got this.” Dash looked up anxiously to see Misty and Spitfire start to form a massive downdraft that pulled in all the rain clouds they had spread out.
“Ok, well, one last thing then. Take these.” Soarin took off his signature Wonderbolt goggles and hoofed them over to the young mare. “You’ll need them. Getting rain drops in your eyes at the speed you will be going can ruin a career. I’ve seen it happen.” It had actually been a small bird, but that poor gray pegasus had never been the same. “They are specially made to be water resistant and filter out glare from the sun, so you don’t have to worry about blinding yourself while you have ‘em on.”
“Sweet, these are so going on my trophy shelf.”
“Oh no they aren't. Those things are expensive. I can’t just be hoofing them out to every fan I meet.”
“Aww, but they would look so good next to my ‘Best Yo–’”
“Cry me a river. Now go get ‘em!”
Rainbow Dash launched herself into the air just as Spitfire and Misty finished up the first part of the routine. The Wonderbolts circled around to the bottom of the downdraft where Dash joined them. The three matched speed, forming a tight delta formation with Dash in the lead. They shot straight up through the downdraft by throwing out a wall of pegasus magic that nullified the strong air current. As they punched through the top, they broke formation; Spitfire and Misty arched off in opposite directions as Dash tucked in her wings and let her climb turn into a free fall.
With an expert flip of her wings, Dash turned so that she was looking back down as she started to fall. She gazed around and saw that the downdraft had worked perfectly; all the clouds had been sucked into a huge elliptical disc. Dash glanced both ways to check on Spitfire and Misty. They were mirroring one another's actions. Both entered the cloud disc at a steep angle and started spiraling in towards the center, quickly turning the cloud into a floating whirlpool. They’re a little slow, Dash thought to herself, I better buy them a few more seconds... She ever so slightly opened her wings, creating just enough drag to impede her fall.
Dash timed it perfectly, and hit the center of the whirlpool just before Spitfire and Misty did. With one powerful flap, Dash canceled out her downward momentum. She let her back legs drop down as her body flipped right side up. She then reached out her hooves to her partners. Spits’ and Misty caught onto Dash’s outstretched forelegs simultaneously, and used her to hold themselves together as they formed a whirling Dash–stuffed Wonderbolt doughnut.
The centrifugal force was immense, and the intense spinning was starting to make Dash sick. She pulled her flight aura into a tight field—centering herself and making the dizziness bearable—but it was all she could do to hold on to the two ‘Bolts as they spun. Spitfire and Misty tapped into their pegasus magic, starting up their thunder trails. As they did, electricity immediately started to crackle ominously all around the three. Dash felt one of her partners squeeze a foreleg—though with the spinning she couldn’t even tell which leg—and started counting rotations.
One...Two... And then Rainbow Dash let go. Spitfire and Misty were thrown off in opposite directions. Spitfire strained her wings to their limit forcing herself into a spiral so that she covered as much of the cloud whirlpool as possible with her thunder trail, while Misty mirrored her actions. Meanwhile, Rainbow Dash pumped her wings as hard as she could the instant she let go. Thanks to the Wonderbolts’ specially weighted uniforms, Misty and Spitfire weighed exactly the same, so by releasing them simultaneously, Dash wasn’t thrown off course. She was, however, left spinning madly as she rocketed into the sky. The spinning forced her into a very tight barrel–roll as she flew upwards, but after a few seconds she regained control, and Dash transitioned into an aileron–roll, and eventually she simply flew upwards. Higher and higher and higher she flew, slowing her ascent as she got to the target elevation. When she reached the right altitude, she once again dropped into a free fall. This time she allowed herself to hit terminal velocity, but that wouldn’t be enough. She pumped her wings to gain even more speed as she recklessly lanced down through the sky.
Once Spitfire and Misty cleared the electrically charged whirlpool they arched upwards and then, to conserve speed, they angled into a wide loop to reverse direction back down towards the vortex of lightning. The two Wonderbolts matched Dash’s speed perfectly, drafting her in single file as she cut a swath through the air. As they surged onward, Dash noticed an all–too–familiar cone start to ripple into shape in her peripheral vision. The spectrum barrier. One thought consumed Rainbow Dash’s mind and she pushed herself to her limit. It wasn’t a fluke it wasn’t a fluke it wasn’t a fluke it wasn’t a fluke it wasn’t a fluke.
At three hundred hooves from the massive whirling thunder cloud, Spitfire tucked in her wings. Misty, who was right behind her, surged forward with a powerful wingstroke. She pushed Spitfire from her rear hooves, and gave her a platform to kick off from. Misty was thrown out of formation by Spitfire’s powerful kick off, and the sudden wind resistance—that drafting Dash had alleviated—threw her into a tailspin. She recovered just in time to see Spitfire do the same thing for Rainbow Dash.
The spectrum barrier never stood a chance.The Sonic Rainboom’s explosion of color threw Spitfire in the opposite direction she had been flying only seconds before. The G–forces from her instant and complete change of direction caused Spitfire to momentarily black out. When she regained consciousness, she saw that Misty had caught her.
“Thanks for the save.”
“It’s what I’m here for.”
The two looked in awe at the incredible scene. The chromatic shockwave had completely annihilated the huge thundercloud, but not before Rainbow Dash had channeled its entire charge into one massive bolt of rainbow–colored lightning.
Rainbow Dash had never in her life moved as fast as she did when she rode that lightning down into the lake. The last three thousand hooves seemed to compress into less than the distance between her nose and her hoof. She would later note that there had been no wind resistance, almost like the air had given up fighting her. The artificial lake instantly transformed from a small blue circle into her entire field of vision, and she was suddenly very happy to be wearing Soarin’s goggles. However, she didn’t have time to appreciate the thought before she hit the water.
At high enough speeds water isn’t much softer than concrete, but every little bit helps. The massive field of pegasus magic she was projecting took most of the impact, and slowed her down considerably. Instantaneously, the lightning bolt she had spearheaded thundered into the lake around her. Dash had been channeling the same magic that had created the lightning bolt and was immune to its effects... but the lake wasn’t so lucky. The rainbow lightning consumed the lake, and both exploded into a thick rolling wave of rainbow mist.
Chromatic mist flowed around Soarin and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Buck me sideways! That wasn’t supposed to happen!” Dash had slammed into the lake much faster than normal, even for the ‘Thunder Vortex’. He immediately jumped down into the now–dry lake bed and raced over towards the not moving figure of Rainbow Dash. Soarin’s thoughts raced as he galloped. Damn, that was fast! I’ve never seen anything move so fast... well lightning, but nothing alive! Please be breathing, Kid...
Soarin skidded to a stop in front her. “Kid! Can you hear me? How many hooves am I holding up?”
Slowly, Dash raised her head and blearily looked Soarin’s way. “Five... how do you do that?” She groaned before slumping back to the ground.
“That’s bad.” Thank Celestia she is still alive, I was afraid that... Soarin shook the thought out of his head. Ok, her vision is still recovering from the Gs, that’s normal, but that’s the least of my worries.
Dash pulled a hoof to her head and dragged off the Wonderbolt goggles. She pushed them Soarin’s way before she lowered her head back to the ground. “I’m sooo... tired, I’m just gonna... close my eyes for a sec.”
“Whoa, whoa. Stay with me kid. Keep those eyes open for a little longer. How’s your neck feel?”
“Mmm it’sss fiiinnne.”
Soarin gently tilted Dash’s head towards the sun. She squinted blearily and her pupils constricted. That’s good, no concussion.
“Kid, how does your head feel? Does it hurt anywhere?”
“I’mmm ffffine, jussst tired, dizzy.” Dash started to settle in and closed her eyes once more.
Dear Celestia, did she absorb the entire impact with Pegasus magic?! That’s insane! This kid’s a bucking powerhouse. It looks like she just decelerated too fast and the G–forces got to her. Maybe breaking the spectrum barrier took the brakes off that lightning–bolt. I can’t think of any other explanation for how fast she was moving.
“Ok, thats fine, you can go to sleep now, I just need to finish checking you out for injuries.” Soarin checked her pulse. That’s good, if she were bleeding internally it wouldn’t be so strong. He then moved to her wings. He checked the joints first, gently moving each one. Dash didn’t even seem to notice. Then he checked her ribs. Everything feels alright, and she said she wasn’t in pain... As he ran his hooves along her sides, she started to squirm.
“Ssstop it, ticklesss.” she kicked at him half asleep.
Soarin chuckled to himself and let out the breath he had been holding. This is blackmail material here. But it looks like she’s okay after all. I can hardly believe it: I thought we had killed her when she hit the lake so fast... “Alright, kid, rest well.”
Dash was out like a light before he had said it.
As he watched her sleep, Soarin couldn’t help but be reminded of Spitfire when she had first joined the Wonderbolts. She would push herself so hard, like she had something to prove. Heh, all those times she would fall asleep wherever she landed after practice, and she never once woke when I would carry her to her bunk. He looked down at his Wonderbolt goggles that were still laying on the ground where Dash had left them. He picked them up put them back on Dash, so that the goggles rested on her forehead, the same way the ‘Bolts wore them when they weren't flying. “You earned ‘em Kid.” He then pulled out his notepad and autograph pen.
Each of the ‘Bolts had taken to stashing a pen and a small notepad in their flight jacket. They had discovered long ago that they could ditch even the craziest fans if they flew fast enough while the fan was staring at the autograph. Soarin wrote a small note, then folded it up and tucked it into the strap of the goggles.
Dash’s ear flicked in annoyance, and for a second Soarin thought he'd woken her up, but she just rolled over and started snoring like a hydra with all five nasal passages obstructed. He winced. Mental note to self... buy ear plugs.
Spitfire and Misty, who had just recovered from the shock wave, could only stare dumbly at the awesome spectacle; the ripples of color from the Sonic Rainboom were stretching out into the horizon, and the chromatic mist that was all that was left of the lake was slowly expanding and dispersing.
Spitfire removed her goggles to get a better look. “It... it looks like a... double Rainboom.”
Misty stared blankly at the empty lake. “All the way... She went all the way through the lake.”
Spitfire raised one eyebrow and glanced over at her partner. “What lake? There is no lake. She vaporized it. She literally vaporized the lake.”
Misty blinked a few times as she pulled her head out of the clouds, before she turned to Spitfire. “That’s why we couldn’t use one with fish in it.”
“Yeah, let’s make a rule out of that when we get back to base, but for now, we should get down there.”
Spitfire and Misty drifted down to the center of the dry lake, joining Soarin. The three Wonderbolts stood around the sleeping Rainbow Dash, varying degrees of shock on their faces.
Spitfire broke the silence, “Is she okay?”
“Yeah, I already checked her out. No concussion, no internal bleeding, no broken bones. This kid is the craziest mixture of lucky and durable I’ve ever seen. She could probably faceplant the ground at max speed and get off pretty easy.”
Silence settled over the group once again, leaving Spitfire to her thoughts. We all got lucky here. I can’t believe she’s okay, but if Soarin checked her out... Still that was too close. If this ever happens again...Spitfire shuddered at the thought.
Misty broke the silence next. “So is that all the Sonic Rainboom is? Breaking the spectrum barrier?”
“Kinda looks that way.” replied Soarin.
“Well we break the spectrum barrier all the time, how come we can’t do that?”
Spitfire chose now to chip in. “The way we teach recruits to break through the spectrum barrier is to tighten up your magic field and slip through it.”
Misty raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t call that ‘slipping through.’”
“Nope,” said Soarin.
Spitfire continued. “What we do is like those professional divers that don’t make a splash even when they high–dive.”
Misty looked back down at Dash. “If we high–dive, then she just cannonballs.”
”Yup” said Soarin.
“Soooo... do you think one of us cou–”
Spitfire cut her off, “After getting knocked around by that shockwave, I don’t even want to try.”
….
….
….
Soarin looked to his teammates. “So who’s hungry?”
“I like food.”
“That sounds good”.
“I’ll carry the kid,” said Soarin, glancing over at Dash.
It was just a little hole–in–the–wall pub that they were headed to, but it had good food, and was rarely busy, so the chances of being recognised and mobbed were greatly decreased.
Dash woke up about halfway there, and—despite the ‘Bolts suggestion that she take it easy—insisted on flying the rest of the way herself. They eventually gave up and let her fly under her own power. She was a little wobbly at first, but she leveled out after a few seconds and was fine for the rest of the flight.
The pub was called The Prancing Pony. The owner and sole occupant—Stout Draft—had an understanding with the ‘Bolts: he wouldn’t tell anypony they ate here, that is, as long as they paid double. This was a good deal for him because the ‘Bolts usually came as one large group, and they ate a lot. The ‘Bolts, on the other hoof, didn’t care about the price as long as it meant avoiding Rapid Fire’s cooking and flocks of frantic fans.
Draft’s face lit up when he saw Spitfire walk in. “Spits’! How’s the show life treatin ya’?” As Misty, Soarin and Dash walked in he frowned. “Only four tonight? Where’s the rest of yer’ crew?”
Spitfire chuckled. “Show life is the same as always, crazy, and yes that’s all of us tonight you greedy pain in the flank. If you must know, everypony else is in Canterlot for tomorrow’s show.”
“Ah, so this must be this year’s ‘best young flyer,’” said Draft pointing at Rainbow Dash. “I’m kinda surprised yer’ still doing this after the mess it got ya’ into last year...”
“You would bring that up,” Spitfire said glaring at him. “Ok, Draft, you know the drill, we’ll take the usual, and keep the hard cider coming!”
“You're the boss, Spits’,” Draft turned and started to walk back into the kitchen, but then stopped. “Misty, I almost forgot. Your friend stopped by and left a message for you. She said she has your hoodie, and if you ever want to see it again you need to get season tickets to your shows for her plus a date.”
“Awe, how cute. Parry has a date, and it sounds like she has been putting my hoodie to good use. Thanks for the update Draft.”
With that, the four pegasi slipped into a booth at the back of the small pub, and Spitfire looked to Dash. “So kid, tell us about yourself.”
….
“Bwahahahaha, I can’t believe you guys thought Rarity was an alicorn! That’s hilarious!” Dash once more collapsed into an uncontrollable fit of laughter and the ‘Bolts joined in. “She would make the worst alicorn ever! She’d be all like”—Dash imitated her friend as best as she could—“This dress is a crime against fashion. To the dungeon with you!”
“So you know her hun?” Misty chuckled. “Typical unicorns, sticking their noses where they don’t belong, thinking they can do anything with their fancy magic. What the hay was she even doing in the competition?”
Dash shot her a look that wasn’t quite hostile. “Yeah I know her. She’s one of my best friends. We don’t always seen eye to eye, but she has it where it counts. Like this one time we were in the Everfree forest and this Manticore attacked us. I expected her to take off, but she gallops straight up to the thing and bucks it right in the face.”
“No way!” exclaimed Misty.
Spitfire winced. For the first time in her life she felt sorry for a manticore.
Soarin’s eyes widened. “Dash, what the hay were you doing in the Everfree forest?”
“Well that was the night I met Twilight. Talk about a crazy time. So, I’m in Ponyville helping to set up for the summer sun celebration when...”
….
“You’re an Element of Harmony!?” exclaimed Spitfire.
“Yup, Rainbow Dash, Element of Loyalty. That’s me.”
“I thought that was just a legend,” said Misty.
“Well, we all thought the Sonic Rainboom was a legend until today, and now I’ve seen it twice,” chipped in Soarin after taking a long swig of his hard cider. They had already gone through their first round of hay fries, and were waiting on Draft to bring out the next platter.
“So,” Misty leaned in conspiratorially, “does Celestia send you and the other Elements on secret missions?”.
“Does fighting a dragon count?”
….
“So that’s why Celestia commandeered the entire squad that day. She had us flying in formation in the middle of nowhere for hours! We were her backup plan for the dragon!” exclaimed Soarin. “I never could figure out what she was up to until now.”
“Yeah, I had wondered about that too. And you are going to have to introduce us to that Fluttershy. She sounds pretty hardcore,” Spitfire said while she leaned back in her seat.
“Errr, about that. Hardcore isn’t exactly the first thing that comes to mind when I think of ‘Shy. She’s cool and all, but she’s not normally like that.”
“Say, Spitfire, didn’t you have a story about last year to tell?” Misty probed with a wink.
“Oh sweet Celestia, I was hoping you’d forget.” Spitfire drained the rest of her mug of hard cider in one go. “Ok, so last year the pony who won the ‘Best Young Flyer’ competition thought that spending a day with us ‘Bolts meant that we had to do anything he wanted.”
Misty covered her mouth with both hooves. “Dear Celestia, this is going exactly where I think it’s going isn’t it?”
“Yup.” Said Soarin also draining his glass.
….
“And that’s why Picture Perfect made the entire team file restraining orders against Salt Rim,” finished Spitfire.
Misty exploded. “BWAHAHAAHAHAHA. I HAD NO IDEA. HAHAAHAH. Why didn’t anypony tell me?”
Soarin scratched his head, “Well I try not to think about that day. But Picture Perfect made us swear not to tell anypony.”
Dash was blushing furiously, she opened and closed her mouth a few times as though trying to say something that wouldn’t quite come out, before she gave up and changed the subject. “So what’s it like being a Wonderbolt?”
….
….
….
The four exited the glorified pub into the cool night air. It was late, not late by Wonderbolt standards, but Dash’s promised ‘day’ had long since ended. Spitfire wasn’t complaining; Dash had been a lot of fun to hang out with. ‘Bolts regularly took time to unwind, but it wasn’t often they got to meet new faces that weren't begging for autographs, or making marriage proposals.
Spitfire started to approach Dash, but was cut off by Soarin. “Hold on a second, Spits’.”
Soarin waved at Misty, getting her attention and then gave her a hoof signal meaning ‘ten minutes.’
Misty got the hint. “Hey Dash, since we were on the same team the whole time we played tag, we never got to see which of us is faster. Wanna race around Cloudsdale?”
“You’re on!”
With a blast of wind the two were gone.
Spitfire turned to Soarin. “You wanted to talk?”
“Yeah,” Soarin replied as he looked her in the eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, but you can’t invite Dash to join the Wonderbolts.”
“What!” Spitfire yelled, stepping back. This hadn’t been what she was expecting at all. “Are you kidding me? She is already better than half of the current rooks. I’ve never even heard of a mare with more raw talent and neither have you!”
“I know, I know, she’s good. Really good. Better than anyone self-trained has any right to be. But that isn’t the problem.” Soarin sighed and turned to look off into the night sky. “She would make a great ‘Bolt... reminds me of you actually. I could even see her replacing you as captain one day, once you were ready to step down of course. To be honest I can’t picture her trying to steal the position from you.” He turned back to face his old friend. “None of that is the problem. The problem is that she doesn’t belong with us... at least not yet anyway.”
Spitfire looked at him quizzically; she could tell Soarin was being uncharacteristically serious.“I don’t get it, of course she belongs with us. She’s a natural, there isn’t anywhere else in Equestria where somepony with her kind of talent for flying will fit in.”
Soarin sighed deeply. “That’s not what I mean... Spitfire, when was the last time you saw your family or your friends?”
Spitfire looked confused. “What do you mean, I’m here with you guys right now. You’re my friends, you’re my family... Soarin, you’re like a brother to me. What are you trying to say?”
He sighed. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about Spits’. When you join the ‘Bolts... that’s it. You become a ‘Bolt and the ‘Bolts are all that you have. Whatever life you had before, whatever friends and family you had back then, being a ‘Bolt replaces all that. A Wonderbolt can’t go visit family. A Wonderbolt can’t even have a real house. The fans alone make that impossible: they would be camping outside your place, trying to take pictures of you through the windows, following you around while you shop. None of us would drag our families through all that, and no friendship can survive that kind of a strain... well none of mine did anyway.”
Spitfire stared at him for a second. “Are you saying you regret joining the ‘Bolts?!”
“NO! Celestia damn it, no. But I was ready to join the ‘Bolts, we all were. Every one of us knew what we were getting into, what we were sacrificing, and we joined on our own terms with our own timing. Every one of us knew that becoming a Wonderbolt meant that we gave up everything we had, meant that we stopped being who we were before. Spitfire, Rainbow Dash is not ready for that. Hell, if half of the stories she was telling back there are true then Equestria needs her right where she is. We can’t ask her to stop being an Element of Harmony to join the Wonderbolts. We can’t tempt her to betray her destiny for her life's dream!”
He trailed off and Spitfire was quiet for a long time. “So... she can never join the ‘Bolts? Soarin this is her life’s dream, you can’t make that decision for her!”
“I didn’t say that! I said she isn’t ready yet. One day she will be, I don’t know what that will look like. Maybe Celestia will find a new bearer for the Element of Loyalty. Maybe her group of friends will drift apart and she’ll need something new. I don’t know. But she isn’t ready now. She may not be ready for a long time... and if we invite her, she will feel obligated to join now. She needs to become a ‘Bolt on her own terms, not ours. I know this is hard to hear. I like her too, but we need to think about what is best for her and the ‘Bolts in the long run.”
“You’re right. Damn it you're always right.” It was Spitfire's turn to sigh. “Now what?”
“Now? Now we tell her we had a lot of fun tonight and that we’ll look out for her at the next competition.”
“So that’s it? We just let her go?”
“What else can we do Spitfire? If we offer her a place on the team now she’ll jump at it, and it will break her. She isn’t ready for this. Nopony, no matter how fast, can live two lives at the same time, and being a ‘Bolt doesn’t come with breaks; it’s a full time job.”
“I don’t like this.”
“I know Spits’, I don’t like it either, but it’s the right thing to do.”
“Okay.”
The next day Rainbow Dash woke up late, even by her standards. It had been very late when she had finally gotten home, and she had slept like a log. She opened her eyes and stretched in bed. The sudden movement of her legs and wings was met with a familiar series of cracks and pops, and pain. Lots of pain. Her wings were incredibly sore; in fact she hadn’t been this sore in years. She slumped back into her bed and felt something hard pressing against her forehead. Puzzled, she reached a hoof to her forehead and felt the foreign object that had spent the night on her head.
As she pulled Soarin’s goggles off, a small note fluttered onto her sheets. She reached down and after unfolding it she read the contents.
If you wake up with these still on, send me a letter. Misty owes me 50 bits.
Soarin---
Ps. I bet these will look great in your trophy shelf next to your ‘best young flyer’ crown.
Misty was already camped outside Picture Perfect’s door when Spitfire got there. “Has it started?” asked Spitfire.
“Has it ever! I don’t even need the cup!” Misty gleefully responded.
Spitfire grinned back at her and placed an ear to the door.
Picture Perfect had spent a lot of bits soundproofing her office. It didn’t work very well.
Spitfire could hear several crashes and the sound of glass breaking coming from inside mixed into a constant stream of swearing, screaming and death threats.
“...YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF...”
“...IF YOU WEREN'T THE OLDEST MEMBER OF THE ‘BOLTS I WOULD...”
“...THE REST OF YOUR LIFE LICKING STAMPS IN...”
“...BLACKLISTED...”
“...TARRED AND RE–FEATHERED...”
“...DISGRACE TO THE UNIFORM...”
“Damn, I’ve never heard her so mad. What do you say Misty, has he had enough?”
“One more.”
“...CLEAN YOU UP WITH A MOP AND SPATULA...”
“Ok, now we rescue him.”
Spitfire and Misty kicked the door down together. The room was in shambles; all the photographs had been knocked off the walls, and the bookshelf had been tipped over. Picture Perfect was standing atop the shattered remains of her desk. She stopped screaming briefly to look as Misty scooped up a ghostly pale and trembling Soarin from where he was trying to hide behind the remains of his chair.
“Wowlookatthetimewehaveashowgottogobye.” Spitfire blurted before she and Misty took off at top speed.
“SPITFIRE GET YOUR FLANK BACK HERE THIS INSTANT YOU INSUFFERABLE FOAL OF A NAG!!!!!”Picture Perfect yelled after them, but the three Wonderbolts were long gone. They raced through the narrow corridors in tight formation. Misty kept up with the breakneck pace Spitfire set despite the fact that she was still carrying Soarin. Spitfire glanced over at Misty’s passenger. “Did you learn your lesson?”
The color was still returning to Soarin’s face and his eyes were unfocused, but he instantly responded, “Yes ma'am.”
Spitfire laughed. “Chin up old friend. I’m not entirely without mercy. I’ve got a little cloud house outside Appleloosa you can hide out in until she calms down.”
“Thank Celestia.”
Author's Note
Thanks for reading! I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you enjoyed reading it just a much. Any and all constructive criticism is welcome. I am pretty new at this, and won't even pretend to have everything figured out.
A big thank you to all my pre-readers, and a huge apology for sucking up so much of your time so close to exams. I promise to be more considerate in the future. Thanks for hanging in there, you guys are all awesome.
Infinion, thanks for your patience and for teaching me the difference between hyphens, en dashes, and em dashes. Yes, I am that bad.
askireet, thank you for beating some of my stupid-er ideas out of me. I don't know where I would be without you.
SaiKimura, thanks for letting me bounce ideas off you, and for lending me your grammatical prowess. You have been in-valuable and I am sad to see you go.
Last, but certainly not least q97randomguy, my super-pre-reader (winks). You're suggestions and outright additions have helped me immensely, and I look forward to seeing where you go with your own story.
Edit: Made some changes, cleaned up more grammar stuff.
Special thanks to Dr. Cat (AKA Khaikispony) of Ponychan, and Now Worthy for helping me with this most recent pass.
