Yet Another Horrible Decision - Chapter 12

                                     Yet Another Horrible Decision

 

 

                                              Chapter 12

 

 

 

 

>Whistling, soft breezes rustle through the tree branches not too far away, a natural song providing background for your thoughts. The tall grass waves gently in the empty meadow and small dustdevils whirl around on the makeshift runway.

>A long tarp stretches across its length, high and wide enough to hold the Stuka (now repainted in Wonderbolt Blue with gold accents, old insignia replaced with the male Wonderbolt symbol of a lightning bolt shooting through a cloud, most prominently on the tail) with a bit of extra room besides.

>A few of the Wonderbolt support staff, earth pony fieldworkers and unicorn engineers, sit in a makeshift lounge area. Your body still feels... strange, no way to properly describe it, after the spell cast on you; you’ve been assured that you’ll be able to walk about Cloudsdale as any pegasus would for the next three days or so.

>Although you’ve been training intensively for this, you definitely still have butterflies flitting about in your stomach. First show jitters, according to the others, is a common thing. “Alright team, on me!” Spitfire shouts. All of you are suited up and ready to go; the show starts in about half an hour. You jog over to where Spitfire is, on the further side of your plane. The rest of the ‘bolts fall in and form a semicircle facing the blue-suited captain.

>“Okay, everypony, this is it. First show of the season; you know how it goes. I’ve received word that attendance is a bit beyond maximum. We’ll be getting quite a bit in royalties for this one,” Spitfire says, beginning to pace from side to side, looking each member in the eyes... well, goggles. “We’re at the Cumulocirrus Colosseum today and Princess Celestia will be in attendance. That means I want your BEST!”

>The unicorn engineers get up from their break and trot over to the Stuka. They’re running a final check of a few of the modifications made for the show, as well as renewing the magic wards that will allow it to land in Cloudsdale.

>“Soarin’, take Fleetfoot, Rapidfire, Misty, and Breezie and make your way to the stadium. You all know what you’re going to be doing, right? Or should I go over it again?”

>The five pegasi all look amongst each other, a few nods and confident exclamations show they’re all prepared. “Leave it to us, Cap. We’ll see you two during the show. And Anon! Good luck, stallion! I know you can do it,” Soarin’ states with the full conviction of honest belief, nodding at you afterward.

“Thanks Soarin’. Good luck, guys! I’ll see ya in a bit.”

>The five Wonderbolts trot past the plane and take to the air, gaining speed as they fly down the runway. An iridescent glow surrounds your plane and the engineers give the all clear.

>“Alright, Anon. Just you and me now. We’ve got a little bit of time. You won’t mind if we go over our parts again?” Spitfire asks you.

“Can’t hurt, captain.”

>“Glad you think so. I’m really excited for this, Anon. This is easily going to be our best show yet, should we pull it off right!”

>She turns and waits for you to step to her side. The two of you walk together towards the break area where a map of the Colosseum hangs from the wall with numerous colored marks thatched all over.

 

 

 

 

>“Oh AWESOME! This is so COOL!”

>Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and a bemagicked Pinkie Pie are all sitting in the soft cloud-loungers in the Cumulocirrus Colosseum.

>“I can’t believe you managed to get tickets to the first Wonderbolts show of the season! Way to go, Dashie!” Pinkie shouts exuberantly, her voice resounding even over the din of the gathered crowd.

>“Oh my... it’s so crowded. I’ve never seen this many ponies in one place before,” Fluttershy notes, barely loud enough to be heard by her friends right next to her.

>“Hah! This is the largest colosseum in all of Equestria. Maximum capacity of over sixty thousand, and that’s not even counting all the pegasi watching from the roofs of the buildings. The first Wonderbolt show of the season is always one of the most popular because it’s when they introduce the new routines they work on in the off-season,” Rainbow informs them.

>“I wonder if Anon is going to be in this show?” Fluttershy asks.

>“I’d bet my wings on it! Oh my gosh! I can’t wait!” Rainbow exclaims, her wings flapping furiously behind her. Pinkie is almost as excited, literally bouncing in her seat. “Oh oh oh! How long ‘til it starts?! I can’t WAIT any longer, I’m going to burst!”

>“It shouldn’t be too long now,” Fluttershy states.

>“Popcorn, peanuts, Wonder Wieners! Get ya concessions here!” One of the snack-vendors flies about the stands, a box of food strapped around his shoulders.

>“Oh, um, I’d like some popcorn...”

>“Ya gotta speak up, Fluttershy! HEY! BARKER! Three popcorns and as many Wonder Wieners, right here!” Rainbow flutters up from her seat, getting the vendor’s attention and causing him to flit to them.

>“Dat’ll be 18 bits, pretty filly,” the vendor says as he doles out the treats among them.

>“Eighteen!? You gotta be kidding me!”

>“Stadium food’s always overpriced, Pinkie. Six bits from each of you,” Rainbow requests as she fishes in her saddlebag. Pulling out a twenty bit coin, she passes it to the vendor. “Keep the change. And get us some napkins, too! Don’t forget the salt. Send the drink vendor our way if you get a chance, yeah?”

>“Sure thing, lady. Popcorn, peanuts, Wonder Wieners!” The vendor flies back up amongst the crowd. Minutes later a drink vendor shows at their seat and drops off three ice-cold ciders.

>“I think we’re set, girls! Nothing like a strong, cold cider on a nice summer day,” Pinkie says, taking a drink and popping back up with a foamstache.

>“Even better when you’re drinking one while watching the best fliers in all of Equestria. After me, of course!”

>A fanfare of trumpets sound and the din of the crowd dissipates. “Oh good! Princess Celestia is here, the show’s bound to start soon,” Fluttershy announces to her friends.

>Celestia walks out of the shadows behind the royal seat box, accompanied by the recently returned Shining Armor and Princess Cadence. Taking her place in the center, she stands tall and proud, her sparkling mane blowing gently and magnificently behind her.

>“Pegasi of Cloudsdale, and all other ponies visiting this fairest and most dignified of cities! I am happy to be here with all of you to witness this most amazing spectacle! I’ve received word from Captain Spitfire herself that this show is to be unlike any before, to be unrivalled in splendor and daring! Let the show begin!”

>The crowd roars in response, a massive crescendo of cheers, whoops, and hollers.

>“Ohmigosh ohmigosh ohmigosh! Oooooh, I can’t wait!”

>“Rainbow, you’re so excited you’re making me even more excited! GO WONDERBOLTS, WOO HOO!” Pinkie Pie cries. Fluttershy shrinks back a bit in her seat, the sensory overload a bit much.

>Four large booms from the cloud cannons atop the stadium walls silence the crowd, the amplified voice of the announcer echoes throughout the colosseum. “Ladies and gentlecolts, fillies and foals! Today is the day that you’ve ALL been WAITING for!”

>Thin wisps of clouds, somewhat like a fog, descend from the ramparts of the colosseum. The massive crowd murmurs in expectation.

>Five bolts of blue rocket up through the cloud cover, tearing holes through the cloud settled at the bottom of the colosseum; a pentagonal shape is ripped through and the crowd explodes in applause.

>The five Wonderbolts all settle into a hover in unison, forming themselves into a pentagon reverse that of the holes they’ve torn into the cloud floor.

>Rainbow whistles sharp and loudly, Pinkie Pie cheers, and Fluttershy... ‘shouts’ in response.

>“May I present to you, humble audience: Breezie!”

>A unicorn on the special effects team, stationed on the top level of the colosseum, fires a bolt of magic that surrounds Breezie with a bright white aura.

>“Fleetfoot!”

>Another bolt of magic, this one purple, shoots out and applies a similar aura to Fleetfoot.

>“Rrrrapidfire!”

>A deep crimson glow surrounds the stallion who mugs for the audience.

>“Mmmmisty FLYYYY!”

>An electric blue aura forms around the mare, who blows kisses to the audience. A few pegastallions fly up and exaggeratedly catch them.

>“Aaaand Soa~rrrin’!”

Swathed in a bright cerulean glow, Soarin’ does a flip midair, several mares shouting proposals at him.

>“I... I don’t get it, where’s Spitfire?” Fluttershy asks, somewhat mystified.

>“Probably building up to the most awesome entrance you’ll ever see!” Rainbow responds, her wings fluttering behind her while she takes a swig of cider.

>“Thanks for inviting me, Rainbow Dash! This is SO MUCH FUN!” Pinkie shouts, standing on her hindlegs and jumping up and down.

>Music starts piping in, softly at first, building up to a booming crescendo. The Wonderbolts Theme!

>“AWE~SOME! You just KNOW something great is going to happen next,” Rainbow explains, wiggling in her seat and spilling a bit of her cider.

>The exhortations of the crowd lessen; a few murmuring, confused voices rise above the din. The music fades out and a mechanical buzz grows closer and louder.

 

 

 

 

>The propeller roars furiously, the torque pushed most of the way up. The overpowered takeoff was necessary due to the shortened runway, just barely long enough for the Stuka to take flight. The pitch is somewhat sharply angled and the rightmost wing dips downward as you execute a sharp banking turn.

>This was the one part you hadn’t trained for, coming out of a small valley ringed by large, jagged mountains. Still, at this point you’ve gained enough personal flight experience to ensure your safety.

>Not to mention the safety of your companion. Spitfire is comfortably situated in the back, the seat modified to better fit a pony. In front of you, the incredible cloud city grows closer. Great buildings of ‘cloudstone’ and the marble-like ‘nimbusite’ rest on crests and depressions of fluffy and solid clouds. The very sight is both fascinating and beautiful, with flocks of pegasi flitting about the columns, arches, and towers. It’s all very Greco-Roman, almost an airy ancient Athens. Directly ahead of you is the Cumulocirrus Colosseum itself, a giant and magnificent structure very reminiscent of the famous original in Rome.

“Alright Spitfire, we’re almost there. Maybe another minute to go.”

>“Fantastic, Anon! Our timing will be perfect; Soarin’s just about to break through the floor.”

>You lower your pitch and max out the throttle. This is one of the more delicate and difficult parts of the show, although you can hardly think of a better entrance.

>Airspeed increasing through the dive, you focus on making a smooth parabolic curve. A few tens of meters more and you can begin ascending again. “Last time for words, I guess. Good luck, Anonymous,” Spitfire wishes with confidence. “And I... I’m really happy to have you on the team,” she lowers her voice almost to a whisper here, seeming like she’s talking more to herself than you.

“Good luck to you too, Spitfire. And I’m happy to be on the team.”

>Silence permeates the cockpit as you angle the pitch upwards, dropping the throttle back a bit and letting gravity reduce your airspeed. The colosseum floor rises up quickly, the center of the five holes punched through your target.

“Here we go!”

 

 

>Rainbow leans forward in her seat, a wide grin plastered on her face. Unlike the vast majority of the crowd, she knows that whirring quite well.

>“Aaaand introducing the newest member of the Wonderbolts,” the announcer shouts, the crowd waiting with bated breath. The cloud floor at the bottom of the colosseum rips open to reveal Anon’s Stuka, repainted a fantastic blue and yellow with Wonderbolts regalia, rocketing upwards and rolling forward before screaming into a banking curve parallel to the seats. “Aaaanonymous!”

>A silver sheen is imparted onto the plane by the unicorns above and the crowd roars into life. The glass canopy is flung open and a golden bolt streaks around the stadium in the opposite direction. “Here she is, ladies and gentlecolts! The Winged Wonder herself, Spiiit~fiiire!”

>Spitfire breaks off a second before she would have been sliced into pieces by the propeller, shooting into the middle where she is wreathed in an aura of golden flame. The Stuka still circles around the stadium, locked landing gear coming within meters of the spectators, many of whom rear back in response.

>“Buck yeah, Anon! Oh wow, that was one of the best entrances I’ve seen,” Rainbow shouts excitedly, her voice nearly cracking and her wings going stock straight.

>“You said it, sister! I can’t wait to see what happens next!” Pinkie swings her cup wildly, the cider inside sloshing about and spilling onto the spectators below.

>Anon guides the plane lower to the bottom seating area, wingtip grazing the cloud floor and slicing it clean. He then evens out, slowing considerably and reducing the angle of the banking curve.

>Spiraling upwards, a silver sheen trails behind the plane as it reaches the upper levels of the stadium. Breezie starts the next move, bolting backward and latching onto the further edge of the left wing. Rapidfire follows her lead and takes position on the opposing side.

>The crowd gasps in wonder as Misty and Fleetfoot simultaneously latch onto the closer edges of the wing, a panoply of colors trailing behind. Soarin’ flies behind and clasps the tail just ahead of the rudder, the cerulean glow trailing behind him. >Spitfire rockets around the Stuka, golden glow spiraling and wreathing around it until she finds her position and settles on top of the canopy, waving at the crowd around with her forehooves.

>“Oh wow! Look at those beautiful colors,” Fluttershy says with amazement, leaning forward in her seat and catching a few scintillating motes in her wide pupils.

>Rainbow thrusts a forehoof into the air, cheering the Wonderbolts on with gusto. “That’s why they need ME on the team! Oh Celestia, could you imagine? You think this show’s great, just wait until they have Sonic Rainbooms on the reg!”

>The plane laden with pegasi shoots skyward, angling over the wall and diving over the side. Seconds later it comes back up from underneath the stadium, looping around and around until the entirety of the colosseum is awash in a coruscating rainbow of magical color. The crowd erupts in an orgiastic wave of wonder. The blue-suited pegasi break off from the plane as their aural trails fade.

>“Oh boy oh boy oh boy, I can’t WAIT to see what happens next!” Pinkie shouts, bouncing on her tail fluffed with glee.

 

 

 

 

>Damn but this is exhausting.

>You’ve been in the air, performing a wide range of aerial acrobatics for about an hour and a half now. It’s incredible how tiring it all is, far more so than it was during the last two weeks of rehearsals. And you’re the one who gets to sit on his ass and twiddle a few sticks. These pegasi you work with really are some amazing athletes.

>Really, the only part you were unable to contribute to was the weather busting act, though you found some use as a cloud-slicer. You’d have to brainstorm with the team a good way to do something a bit more productive during those times.

>Right now you’re circling above the colosseum, eyeing the ecstatic crowd below through the bombsight. The rest of the team is down near the ‘floor’, such as it is, of the stadium.

>“Alright, Anon, slow up as much as you can. I’m coming up to you, going to get strapped in,” Spitfire announces over the comms, her breath quick and short.

“Will do, Cap. Can’t keep it too slow for too long, though. Last thing we need is a stall.”

>Spitfire launches herself up towards you, Soarin’ and Misty quick on her hooves. Evening out of the slight bank you were in, your instrument panel reads straight and level. “Okay, Spits, we’ve gotcha! Misty, toss me those straps on the double!” Soarin’ shouts. You can feel a soft bump as Spitfire’s weight is pressed up into the half-shell locked in the bomb carriage.

“Captain, you strapped and locked? I can’t keep this speed up much longer!”

>Muffled breathing is all you receive in response, you can’t even see anything going on. Come on, guys, get her in there! And make sure she’ll be safe!

>Irritatingly, you can’t help but feel a little powerless. This whole segment is easily the trickiest and most dangerous of all the maneuvers you’ve performed so far. You’ve had to abort at least three times in rehearsals, once coming damn close to crashing.

>“I’m in!”

“Say again, Cap?”

>“I said I’m in! You can gun it now, get us some altitude!”

>Hot damn, that’s a relief. Just a few minutes more and you easily could’ve stalled and slammed into the seating area. You ease forth the throttle and increase the degree of pitch, soaring over the stadium walls and climbing skyward.

>“She’s all yours, Anon. Take good care of her, we’ll join the others. See ya in a few!” Soarin’ adds confidently, breaking off with Misty to rejoin Fleetfoot, Rapidfire, and Breezie down at the bottom of the stadium.

 >“Rapid, up that wingpower! Fleetfoot, Breezie, keep it up, we’ve got a few minutes at best,” Soarin’ shouts through the comms. Though you can’t see what they’re doing, you’ve been through enough rehearsals to know. Right now they’re whipping around the colosseum floor, building the thick cloud into a whirling tornado. Misty is coordinating with the weather team to build up a rain curtain to protect the crowd with; the last thing anyone needs is for somepony to get hurt and sue.

>“C’mon, Anon! Faster! We need our timing to be perfect!” Spitfire shouts at you through your two-way, her fierce exuberance coloring her attitude.

“I’m going as fast as I can, Cap! Throttles maxed, there’s not much I can do about the pitch!”

>“Errgh, fuck the risk, Anon! You won’t stall it, we need more altitude!”

“Uh uh, Cap. No way, I’m not going to risk our safety, YOUR safety to shave a few seconds off!”

>The comm grows dangerously quiet, you can visualize her face in your mind. One very pissed off mare glares at your mind’s eye. “Lieutenant, I ORDER you to hurry it the fuck up!”

>“Misty, how’s the rain curtain coming?” Rapidfire squawks over the general comms.

>“Almost there, just have to cover sections F and G now. You guys?”

>Argh, fuck it. You angle your pitch several degrees higher, risking a stall and fall.

“There, Cap, ya happy?”

>“Soarin’, Misty? Status report!” Spitfire shouts over the comms.

>“Curtain’s about done, Captain! Crowd’ll be safe, I think!” Misty responds clearly.

>The altimeter reads 27,000, well over the rated service ceiling. Stall risk is substantially higher up here. Damn it, Spitfire...

>The comms are muffled by the sound of wind whipping furiously around, so strong as to interfere with the throat mic operation. “Woo hoo! We’ve got us a twister! You two are cleared for maneuvers!” Soarin’ belts out another holler, barely audible over the wind.

>Dropping pitch, you even out and circle around while dialing back the throttle. The colosseum rises into the bombsights’ viewport and you prepare to toss the release switch.

“Prepare for drop, Spitfire!”

>You throw the release and nose into a steep dive; you can feel the weight of the carriage, Spitfire bundled within, rock forth.

>“Here goes nothing, Anon! See you at the speedway!” Spitfire announces over the two way, her breathing measured and slow in preparation for her final and most incredible of stunts.

>Thousands of feet pass in mere seconds, the Stuka nearing its ‘never exceed’ speed whilst the Jericho-Trumpets screech and yowl as air is forced through them. The most dangerous part is moments away, you cannot rely on the auto-pullup given the proximity to the packed stands.

>You utter a silent prayer, for yourself and Spitfire, as the Cumulocirrus Colosseum grows larger in your sight.

 

 

 

 

>“W-what’s that sound, Dashie?” Fluttershy looks above and ducks back into her seat.

>A few stray droplets from the surrounding rain curtain fleck the coats and manes of the three elements, the whirling tornado sucking enough in to nearly be called a waterspout.

>A high mechanical whine grows closer and closer from above. “No question what that is, Fluttershy! It’s Anon’s plane, diving straight at us,” Rainbow says with an affirmative nod.

>“Oh, this is SO COOL!” Pinkie shouts, bouncing about and sticking her tongue out to catch some of the raindrops.

>The screeching grows yet closer. Rainbow and Pinkie lean forward and look up with anticipation. Fluttershy tucks herself further back in her seat, eyes plastered on the skies above, watching as a dark dot speeds downward.

>The reactions of the three Elements are mirrored in the crowd, none of whom have heard the sound of a screaming Stuka before. Some are curious, others terrified, still more excited at the upcoming finale.

>The Wonderbolts maintaining the tornado all fling themselves out and upward, all five landing on top of the dark clouds forming the curtain in a pentagonal formation. The dot manifests itself clearly as Anon’s Stuka, screaming all the louder thanks to the Cloppler Effect.

>It rockets toward the center of the wily whirlwild, abruptly tearing off and away with a terrible screech. It drops a single, gold and blue payload with a visible field of force surrounding it.

>“Spitfire!”

>The pegasus, one forehoof extended forth and the other retracted in a virtuoso display of aerodynamic excellence, drops down into the center of the whipping windstorm.

>The tornado takes on a Tartarean aspect, flames bursting out and rippling down the sides. A large ‘boom’ shakes the stadium and the attending ponies. Time almost stands still for a moment before the shockwave tears the hellish whirlwind into tattered flames cascading against the rain curtain. Lukewarm water splashes into the stands and soaks many of the spectators. Even regal Princess Celestia is unable to escape the soaking surprise.

>“NO. WAY.” Rainbow shakes the water off like a dog, sending droplets flying in every direction.

>“What was—” Fluttershy murmurs, her mane slick and heavy.

>“A Sonic Fireburst! Oh WOW! Spitfire’s only pulled that off like, three other times,” Rainbow adds, her pupils dilated and a wide smile plastered on her face.

>“Way cool, Rainbow Dash! We got to see one!” Pinkie says with incredible exuberance before squeezing the water out of her mane into her long since drained cider cup.

>“Um, girls? What do you think happened to Captain Spitfire?” Fluttershy asks while kicking moisture off her legs.

>“Huh... I dunno. I hope she’s alright...”

 

 

 

 

 

 

>The black nimbusite of the Stratos Speedway is perfectly smooth and remarkably easy to land on. You were more than a little worried when you came in to land; after all, the spell may not have worked properly or something equally disastrous. Fortunately, it’s a straight shot to the hastily constructed cloudstone hangar off one of the curves.

>As you pull in, the throttle drops down to the single digits. While you glance through the gauges, something strange catches your eye. You tap at the fuel gauge, which is showing a small (but certainly noticeable) reduction. This is the first time that’s ever happened, it’s been stuck around ‘full’ since the first time you climbed in the cockpit.

>No time to worry about that now, though. A series of loud taps strike the canopy, turning your head you see Soarin’ looking in at you.

>“C’mon, Anon! We’ve gotta go, your crowd awaits you!”

>You undo the straps securing you in and toss open the canopy, standing as you do so. Two sets of forehooves wrap around each of your arms and you’re lifted skyward, your legs kicking in surprise.

“Hey, whoa! At least give me some warning!”

>Soarin’ has your right arm in his grasp and Rapidfire your left. That’s all well and fine, but someone’s missing...

“Hey guys? Where’s the captain? She was supposed to meet me here.”

>Your legs begin to trail behind you as the two pegasi pick up speed. The Cumulocirrus Colosseum looms ahead of you. You absolutely refuse to look down at the incredible distance to the solid ground however many thousands of feet below.

>“Damn but you’re heavy, stal,” Rapidfire grunts, adjusting his grip on your arm a bit. “Change of plans, Anon. Captain’s going to meet us at the stadium. We’ll be there in a minute or so,” Soarin’ adds confidently.

>You let the lower half of your body go slack, trusting your teammates to carry you safely to your destination. You can hear the raucous roar of the crowd grow even louder as you’re carried over the walls of the colosseum. A trio of fluffy clouds are gathered together in the direct center of the stadium. Misty, Breezie, and Fleetfoot are all standing on the makeshift island,  waving at the crowd.

>Descending quickly, you are gently dropped onto the cloud platform. Soarin’ and Rapidfire both take position at your sides, facing the crowd and rejoicing in the accolades. The clouds feel a bit like soft beach sand the way your shoes dig into them, but the spell certainly worked. It’s as solid as anything else you’ve stepped on.

>You look out and around at the ecstatic crowd, cheering and (somehow) clopping their forehooves loudly on the stadium floors. A feeling of pride wells up within you and you thrust up your arms and wave. Out of the corner of your periphery, you see a gold and orange blur shooting round the colosseum. A few seconds later, Spitfire lands beside you, the trail she left behind taking a moment to fade away. She lifts up her goggles and gives you a wink before turning and basking in the crowds adulation.

 

 

 

 

>“Oooh, yeah, right there!” Fleetfoot yelps as you caress her.

>The lot of you, Wonderbolts all, are lounging about in the common room of the swanky ‘Nimbus 9’ hotel in Cloudsdale.

>At present you’re massaging Fleetfoot's’ aching back, kneading deep into her musculature.

>“Nnngh! That’s the spot! Whatever you do, don’t stop,” she cries almost orgasmically.

>“Pfft. Not only does Anon get to sit on his ass throughout our shows, he also gets to rub down our ladies! Whaddya think of that, Soarin’?” Rapidfire asks, his annoyance both playful and honest.

>“Drop it, Rapid. He does as much work as any of us, with added danger besides,” Soarin’ responds with a sigh, sinking deeper into the couch.

>At this point your poor fingers are exhausted. And your hands. And your forearms. The rest of the team definitely takes advantage of your nimble fingers, as you’re learning.

>“Oh, me next, me next!” Misty croaks, laying supine on another leg of the expansive couch.

“Fine, fine... You’re next, Misty. Any others want some rookie?”

>The rest of them fortunately don’t answer your response; you feel more than a little relieved. Hopefully you can actually relax after the next few minutes.

 

 

 

 

>“Hey, Wonderbolts! The jacuzzi’s open for us! Who’s in?” Soarin’ shouts, wiggling his whole body in excitement.

>The rest of the team all seem to be down for such an activity. Save for Spitfire, who’s mysteriously missing.

“Eh, I’ll be down in a bit, guys. Anyone know where the captain went?”

>Breezie looks over at you for a moment, seemingly attempting to gauge your intent. >“She left a little while ago, Anon. I’unno where she’d be. You know where the spa is?”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll be down in a bit, guys.”

>You watch as the rest of the team all take off into the elevator, bound for the lower levels where the spa and jacuzzi are located.

>Breezie, however, stays behind a moment. “Hey, Anon,” she states. “Just so you know, Captain Spitfire usually...” she drops off for a moment, rubbing a forehoof against her free leg. “She usually wants to be alone after a show. Just, just letting you know, yeah?” Breezie announces before turning on a hoof and rushing to the elevator with the others.

>Alone? Why would she want to be alone? Especially after her team, the team she was in charge of, pulled off one of the best shows in Cloudsdalian history?

>You watch as the elevator doors close and the remainder of your new friends vanish into the lower levels.

>Sure, you may be new, but you’ll be damned if you let your captain, the very inspiration behind your work, miss out on the victory celebration.

>You start wandering around the penthouse deck, looking around for any trace of your missing teammate. She’s not in her room, not answering your knocks, anyway.

>Walking about the floor, you are greeted by little more than silence. Until, that is, you come across one of the smaller balconies. Set into the main hallway, you can hear the floating chords of a song....

 

 

 

 

 

 

>You silently slip through the open balcony doors, stepping out onto the moonlight glazed veranda.

>“Oh mijn Hornhem, oh mijn Hornhem, mijn haus Hornhem oooh...”

>Spitfire is comfortably seated on a luxurious cloud-chair, staring out over the balcony into the city proper. Her voice carries through the air, mournful notes gently settling into your ears; the song itself is a melancholy dirge, sad and proud all at once. The starlight dapples her orange fur, fluffed up against the high-altitude breezes.

>“...singt luid, singt trots!” You take the moment as her voice stretches into a high pitched, loud crescendo to step closer; ideally you won’t interrupt this mystifying performance. She’s really getting into it, rising on her forelegs and extending her wings.

>“Oh mijn Hornhem, oh mijn Hornhem, mijn haus Hornhem oooh...” As she settles back into a lower volume and pitch, she retracts her wings and settles back down, humming the tune of the song.

>One of her ears perks up and slightly rotates your direction, evidently noticing your footsteps. Spitfire whips her head around and regards you with a somewhat surprised expression, her cheeks seemingly darkening a bit. “Anon? What are you doing out here? And why are you sneaking up on me?”

“And interrupt a beautiful mare singing a beautiful song on a beautiful night?”

>If she seemed to be blushing a moment ago, she definitely is now. Her eyes remain locked on you as you walk next to her and plop down, dangling your legs off the side of the balcony.

“You’ve got a great voice, you know.”

>She snickers and turns her head to face the vista beyond. It really is an incredible view. The moon and starlight play wonderful games with the primarily white and grey cloud city; several parks are illuminated fantastically, the bizarre interplay of trees and shrubbery set in darkish clouds fascinates you.

>“It really is nice to be back here. I remember so many nights looking out on the city, dreaming of my future,” Spitfire says, her voice far away as if she’s locked in an introspective fugue. You don’t respond, instead looking out on the city yourself, taking in the wondrous sights.

>“I... I wanted to apologize. To you.”

“What? What for?”

>She turns her head and looks at you, the moonlight flares in her eyes and gives them the aspect of honey drizzled amber. She shifts her forelegs around and her soft looking fur stands a bit higher on her back. “During the show, when you and I were gaining altitude? I snapped at you when you only had my safety in mind. OUR safety. Sometimes... sometimes I push things a little hard in the shows,” she murmurs, turning her head back to face the vista.

“I can see. Next time, if it has to do with the plane, take my advice. In the end it wasn’t so bad, though. We made it through safe and sound, didn’t we?”

>You reach over and scratch her behind her left ear, the closest one to you. She curls her head against your hand, exhaling softly and shutting her eyes. “Mmngh... Hey Anon? Think you could do me a favor?”

>You pull your hand back and look at her, watching her eyes slowly open and latch onto your own. “When we’re off duty... do you think you could just call me Spitfire?”

>You can’t help but smile a little.

“Sure thing, Spitfire.”

>She grins and her fur settles down smoothly on her back. Looking back out over the city, an idea comes to mind.

“Hey, we’ve got the day off tomorrow, right? Why don’t you give me a tour of this place? I only have a few days until the magic wears off and I’d like to see more.”

>“Hmph. You’re lucky it worked at all! A month long spell only working for three or four days... But yeah, sure. That sounds... nice,” she says quietly, her wings showing a gentle flare.

>For the next hour, you and Spitfire sit side by side, enamored and enthralled by the sights beyond.

 

 

 

 

>Chrysalis lounges comfortably on the lectus in her bedchambers, her belly long since receded to its regular, taut state.

>A tugging at the edge of her mind calls her to stand. While she would normally await her litter and bearers, she’s more in the mood to actually use her legs. Besides, she needs to make haste.

>She strides proudly through the arched ‘doorway’, such as it is, and begins to trot down to the lowest levels of the hive.

>It’s finally time. The broodmothers have borne their eggs and the newest and possibly most powerful of her children are ready to hatch. A malicious smile forms on her muzzle as she thinks ahead to the glory awaiting her.

>Finally, finally will Hive and Swarm be fed; finally will her people glut themselves on the puny Equestrians. It’s just a matter of time...