An Echo
Spitfire dug through her filing cabinet. There were a few more papers she would need to put everything in order. It was a strange thing to feel at once so proud and forlorn, but that was the way of such matters, and always had been.
She had just found the file she needed when a knock sounded at her door.
“Come in,” she said, and the door opened.
It was Rainbow Dash.
“You wanted to see me ma'am?” asked the blue pegasus.
Spitfire turned her head, and looked at the younger pony. She was quite a sight in her Wonderbolts dress uniform. She always had been. All the same, no, Spitfire had not wanted to see her – at least not like this. That was no longer her decision, however.
“Yes, Rainbow Dash,” she said, dropping the file on her desk. “You're just the pony I wanted to see.”
Rainbow Dash looked around the office, slightly confused – as she should be. Ponies were generally only called to Spitfire's office for disciplinary measures, and Rainbow Dash had not done anything to warrant such action in years.
She turned in her chair, and a sharp, familiar pain shot through her wings and upper back. As she steadied herself, she turned her eyes out the window, but she was stopped cold by her own image reflected in the glass. She let her vision crawl over the gray streaks running through her mane and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She had never paid them very much attention until the last few days.
“Rainbow Dash,” she said without turning her head, “how long has it been since the last time I called you in here?”
“Two years,” said Rainbow Dash, after a brief pause.
“Only two, but still years” thought Spitfire. It seemed longer.
“Yes,” said Spitfire, “that's about right.”
“Did I do something wrong?” asked Rainbow Dash.
“No,” said Spitfire. “Nothing like that.”
She turned her head to face the blue pony, and looked down at the file on her desk.
“This is your file,” she said. “Every instance of uncommon excellence you have exhibited since your first day of Academy is recorded in here – and there are quite a few of them.”
“Uh, thank you ma'am.” said Rainbow Dash, obviously confused.
“For what?” asked Spitfire. “It's a simple statement of fact.”
She leafed through the file page by page as she continued.
“This is the single most impressive service record I've ever encountered. You should be proud of it without regard to my praise – or anypony else's.”
“I am,” said Rainbow Dash.
Spitfire did not respond, but continued to leaf through the thick, heavy folder.
“I wish I could say that you reminded me of myself, but the truth is that you have in every measure surpassed my own achievements at your age. That's quite a feat.”
This time, Rainbow Dash said nothing.
“That alone would be enough to make me certain of this decision, but I also have my own personal experiences with you. You have consistently exhibited a drive and willingness to succeed, tempered, I might add, with a unique understanding of your own capabilities. I can proudly say that I have never witnessed anything quite like it.”
“I'm flattered ma'am,” replied Rainbow Dash.
“No, you're not.” said Spitfire. “You have to be at least a little surprised to be flattered, and you've always known what I thought of you, whether I said so, or not. Am I right?”
“I guess so, Captain,” said Rainbow Dash, a slight hint of sheepishness in her voice.
“Of course,” said Spitfire, and she fell silent for a few moments.
“Permission to speak freely?” asked Rainbow Dash.
“Granted,” said Spitfire.
“You didn't call me in here to tell me I'm your favorite Wonderbolt,” the blue pegasus said flatly. “Now, what's this really about?”
Spitfire chuckled.
“Always right to the point, eh Dash?”
Rainbow Dash did not respond.
Spitfire stood up, and walked to the window. She looked out at the clouds, and sighed deeply.
“Rainbow Dash,” she said, “last week, I was diagnosed with severe alar cartilage erosion and alar osteoporosis. In other words, the bones in my wings are literally disintegrating from over-use. I thought it was just a little arthritis. If that had been the case, I could have gotten some pain medication, and gone on about my business; Rapid Fire does it every day.'
“Unfortunately,” she continued, “that won't be the case for me. To be honest, it's a miracle I'm still alive. The force of a stiff enough dive or roll could have – by now, in fact, should have – snapped my wings like twigs at any time for at least the last two or three years; probably longer.”
As she turned to face the younger flyer, she saw that her mouth hung slightly open.
“Hasn't that been painful?” asked Rainbow Dash.
“Yes,” said Spitfire. “Worse lately, but painful for awhile, now.”
“Why didn't you say something?” asked Rainbow Dash.
“Would you?” asked Spitfire.
“Well, you could have at least gone to the doctor,” came the blue pegasus' next remark.
“Would you?” Spitfire asked once more.
Rainbow Dash said nothing.
“Because this condition has become known to High Command, I have been ordered to relinquish my post. I am to be honorably discharged with full retirement benefits – and a full seven years early, I might add.”
“Well, that's good,” said Rainbow Dash, “but still, I'm sorry.”
“For what?” asked Spitfire.
Once again, Rainbow Dash did not respond.
“As one of my last duties, I must nominate a successor to my position. I intend for it to be you.”
Rainbow Dash recoiled slightly at the news. Spitfire could see excitement, guilt, and pity warring for dominance in Rainbow Dash's expression.
“Don't give me that look,” she said. “You knew this day would come. If it comes a little sooner than either of us expected, that's just the way it has to be.”
“Ma'am,” said Rainbow Dash, her body going slack, “I don't know what to do.”
“You might start by thanking me,” said Spitfire, smugly.
“I do!” Rainbow Dash shot back. “I really, really do, but you have to understand that you were always... sort of my hero... even after I had to start seeing you as just an ordinary pony.”
“Me?” Spitfire laughed. Rainbow Dash's hero? The Rainbow Dash? Sonic Rainboom, Element of Loyalty? Friend of Princess Twilight Sparkle? That Rainbow Dash?”
“Of course,” said Rainbow Dash. “All that stuff I just sort of wandered into. I wasn't looking for any of it. All I ever wanted was this; to be here, you know? I wanted to sign posters and action figures and T-shirts. I wanted to be an inspiration the way you were to me, but I...” Here, Rainbow Dash struggled for words.
“I never wanted to replace you.”
Spitfire gritted her teeth behind closed lips and ground a hoof against the floor in defiance of the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes.
“Well,” she said, “that's not for you or me to decide. The decision has come down, and I intend to abide by it as I always have – the way you'll learn to.”
She cleared her throat, having fully regained her composure.
“Now, will you accept my nomination to the position, or not?”
Rainbow Dash stared at the floor, and Spitfire saw her drag a foreleg across her eyes. The sleeve of her uniform came away darkened slightly with moisture in a few places. Then, Rainbow Dash looked up.
“Of course I will.”
“Good,” said Spitfire bluntly. “I'll see to it that you receive all pertinent information.'
“Don't let this bother you,” continued the gold pegasus. “It's just time; that's all. You've seen me, lately. I'm not the flyer I used to be. I'm dragging down the whole unit.”
“I never thought so,” said Rainbow Dash.
“Yes, you did,” said Spitfire, sitting back down. “You just wouldn't let yourself say it.”
Spitfire slid a small paperweight around under her hoof for a few moments, and either out of discomfort or the misconception she had been dismissed, Rainbow Dash began to turn towards the door.
“I never really felt like I lived up to this,” said Spitfire, quietly, and Rainbow Dash stopped.
“I wanted to set records. I wanted to go down in the history books; be a legend. You understand?”
“Trust me, I know,” said Rainbow Dash.
Spitfire chuckled bitterly.
“The difference is that you actually will. I almost could, once, when I was younger. I was so close, but never quite there. Then, I kept getting older; getting slower, sloppier. I always knew, every day, better than ever, how to do what I wanted, but with every one of those days, my body was even less... up to it... than the one before. Maybe it's best I hang it up now, before I make a mistake I can't take back. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise.'
Spitfire looked Rainbow Dash over once more.
“The things you're going to do without a worn-out old nag like me holding you back; I envy you so much. I'm going to watch every single one of them happen, and I'm going to envy you, every single moment.'
Spitfire smiled.
“You're dismissed,” she said, and she began once more to leaf through Rainbow Dash's file.
Rainbow Dash stood where she was, staring at Spitfire for a few seconds. Finally, she turned, and walked a few steps towards the door. Just as she reached it, however, she stopped, and turned back.
“Hey, Captain?”
“What is it?” asked Spitfire, looking up to see Rainbow Dash staring at her from across the room, tears now welling unabated in her amethyst-colored eyes.
The blue pegasus' voice shook slightly as she spoke.
“Is it okay if I still want to be like you?”
There was a long pause, and Rainbow Dash's eyes never unlocked from Spitfire's for even a moment before she spoke again.
"Please?"
finem