//------------------------------// // Day 1: Introductions // Story: Scoot Camp // by theNDinspector //------------------------------// To say that the academy was busy would be an understatement. True to Scootaloo’s previous observations, there were ponies in nearly every field doing a variety of excercises and tasks. What she didn’t expect was there to be ponies with video cameras everywhere. That certainly wasn’t in the brochure. Scootaloo made her way to the registration office. After checking in, she was directed to go to the eastern field. She found that quite a number of ponies were already there, but there were still plenty more to come. Since they still had some time before the trainers would arrive, they started conversing with each other. Most of it was about what lay ahead of them and general Wonderbolt stuff, but there were some other interesting words being passed around. “Hmm, there are certainly a lot of pretty mares here,” one grey pegasus stallion with a silvery mane said. “Maybe if this whole Wonderbolt thing doesn’t work out then I can probably woo one of them.” “Will you shut up Silverwings,” a sky-blue pegasus mare with a fluffy white mane and tail said. “Seriously, your ability to ‘smooth talk’ won’t get you far around here.” “Ugh, this place is filthy,” one purple mare with a dark-blue mane stated. “I mean, it looks orderly, but there’s an awful stench everywhere.” “I wonder what’s with all the cameras everywhere” one pony said; voicing the questions of many. “I don’t care,” a gold-yellow stallion with a red mane said. “Just as long as they capture my good side and spectacular flying capabilities.” The ponies around him just rolled their eyes and continued on with their conversations. There were a lot of speculations to this interesting arrangement. Some suggested maybe they were filming a Wonderbolt movie—with many famous actors—and that they might be lucky to be extras. Others thought that maybe they were spies from some rival flight team. That idea got shot down pretty quickly since it seemed unlikely that spies would be out in this large amount of numbers in plain view of everypony. Scootaloo was about to join in the conversation when suddenly a shrill cry from a whistle caught their attention. In the distance they saw three ponies walking towards them. A yellow mare with a fiery mane was flanked by two other stallions: one was light-blue and the other dark-grey with a moustache. Each was wearing a uniform that also included caps and sunglasses. Despite her smaller size, the one in front was clearly the higher ranking pony of the three. Scootaloo recognized this pony. It was none other than the legendary Spitfire, whose magnificent flying skills were matched only by her fiery attitude. She retired from active service in the main squadrons a few years ago and apparently devoted more time at the academy. But she was still as fierce as ever. “All right newbies, LINE UP!” Spitfire ordered. Scootaloo and the other ponies fell into attention. They did this quite well as it was a common practice that they each had internalized during flight school. Spitfire closely examined them. She scowled at them, making it hard to tell what she was thinking. “Well lookie what we got here,” Spitfire started as she paced in front of the new cadets alone; the other two falling back. “I bet you all think you’re Wonderbolt material, don’t ya?” “Yes Ma’am!” Scootaloo shouted in unison with the other cadets. “You think you all have what it takes to be an elite flyer?” Spitfire continued. “Yes Ma’am!” They shouted again. “Well, then,” Spitfire said with a wicked smile on her face. “Let me be the first to tell you; YOU DON’T!” All the cadets flinched at Spitfire’s sudden outburst. “If you were an elite flyer, you would already be a Wonderbolt!” Spitfire exclaimed. “You may think that you are the best flyer in your hometown; but over here, YOU’RE NOTHING!” She stopped in front of the purple mare who complained about the smell earlier. “Do you still think your something special!?” Spitfire yelled in her face. “No Ma’am,” the purple mare said weakly. Spitfire moved on and stopped in front of Scootaloo. “You think you’re hot stuff?” Spitfire asked. Scootaloo didn’t say anything, but she didn’t back down either. Spitfire frowned and got closer, but Scootaloo refused to flinch. Spitfire gave a pronounced “hmph” before moving on. She next stopped in front of the yellow stallion and looked him over. “I bet you couldn’t make it around the first flagpole,” she stated. “I can take anything you can throw at me Ma’am,” the hothead replied. “Oh, you think so?” Spitfire asked mockingly. “Yes Ma’am!” The stallion responded. “Well, we’ll see about that,” Spitefire said walking away from him. She turned to address the group again. “All right, some of you may know of me, but here you will address me as either Ma’am or Colonel Spitfire.” Somepony snickered. Spitfire turned and immediately zeroed in on the culprit. “Is something FUNNY?” Spitfire yelled at the stallion apparently known as Silverwings. “Is there something humorous you would like to share with the rest of us?” “No,” Silverwings managed to say, fear clearly present in his eyes. “No what?!” Spitfire asked deliberately. “No…Ma’am,” Silverwings replied. Spitfire glared at him for a good thirty seconds before she returned to addressing the cadets. “All right, you will be here for the next week for some rigorous training,” Spitfire stated. “At the end of the week, I will determine if you are fit to continue on your way to possibly becoming a Wonderbolt. Normally, I would be with you nearly every step of the way; but I’m sure you have noticed that we have some guests.” She motioned to the ponies with cameras and other recording equipment around them. “The Princesses have seen it fit to have our training filmed to be put into a documentary,” Spitfire explained. “They will be filming everything on the training grounds and public areas. They will not be permitted in the barracks or other private areas without my written permission and an escort by one of the academy officers. I will have to address to other matters in this process, so your training will be left in the capable hooves of Major Soarin.” With that, the light-blue pony stepped forward and took a clipboard from under his wing. “All right cadets, we will have you do some basic exercises for the next couple of hours before you are dismissed for lunch,” Soarin said. “After which, you will be given time to put away your personal belongings in the barracks. You will find that your sleeping arrangements have been posted on the bulletin board in the mess hall. You will also need to obtain the proper flight gear at the quartermaster’s office. You will put these on and report back to the Eastern Field, Section D, at precisely 1500 hours for the special training maneuvers today.” Soarin stepped back once he had finished. Then Spitfire moved up again. “All right newbies; give me two-hundred laps, NOW!” She said and blew her whistle. *** After what felt like an eternity, the cadets were finally dismissed for lunch. Feeling winded, Scootaloo quickly grabbed a tray, collected her food and sat down at the nearest empty table. Right before she could start eating, she was joined by a certain grey stallion who sat very close to her. “Hey beautiful,” Silverwings said. “What do you say that we ditch this dining room and go out back for a more…private meal?” “NO! No!” The blue pony from the field said, pushing Silverwings aside. “I can’t allow you sweet talk any of these mares into trouble.” “Ah, come on Blue Yonder,” Silverwings protested. “Do you have to ruin all my fun?” “Yes, yes I do,” Blue Yonder simply stated. “Are you two like brother and sister, or something?” Scootaloo asked, trying not to laugh. “Oh, for goodness sakes, no!” Blue Yonder replied. “But we might as well be,” Silverwings stated. “Our parents are close friends; so we practically grew up together.” “And I have to keep his sorry flank out of trouble,” Blue Yonder added before punching the stallion in the upper foreleg. “Ow, not so hard!” Silverwings protested. “Serves you right,” the yellow stallion with the red mane said from behind them. “Laughing at the commanding officer like that, you’re lucky to still be alive, pal.” “And you are?” Silverwings asked, clearly annoyed. “Hot Shot,” the stallion answered. “Just try and stay out of my way.” With that, Hot Shot left and sat at another table at the far side of the cafeteria. Silverwings stared daggers in his direction as he left. “Jerk,” Silverwings muttered. “Ugh, I hate cafeterias!” The purple mare with the dark-blue mane said as she sat down. “Hi, I’m Scootaloo,” the orange pegasus said, extending a hoof. “What’s your name?” “Lavender; and don’t touch me!” She replied, holding her hoof up so as to keep the others away. “Okay then,” Scootaloo said, awkwardly retracting her hoof. “Is there a problem here, cadets?” A voice from behind them said. It belonged to the dark-grey stallion with the moustache and sunglasses from the introduction that morning. While he did not have the fire in his voice like Spitfire, he was still very intimidating. “No sir, we were just talking,” Silverwings quickly said. “Well, I suggest you keep it down or you can leave the mess hall,” the stallion said before leaving. “Who was that?” Scootaloo asked quietly when the stallion was out of earshot. “I don’t know, but apparently he’s a lieutenant,” Silverwings answered. “Well, I guess we better eat and get out of here,” Blue Yonder suggested as she started stabbing her salad with a fork. *** After she finished lunch, Scootaloo went to the bulletin board. There were two different barracks for cadets, one for mares and the other for stallions. There was also a specific section for the first week cadets. She would be sharing that with six other mares. Scootaloo decided to visit the barracks first, even though the quartermaster’s office was much closer. She figured this way she would get first dibs on the beds. The room itself was rather plain and simple; what else would it be. Four bunk beds lined the walls, and simple dresser with two closet doors—and a mirror in between—were besides each bed. There was one window at the far end of the room. Checking to see that nopony else was already there, Scootaloo immediately claimed the top bunk of one of the beds at the front. She was unpacking her saddle-bags when another cadet arrived. “I wish they didn’t have to touch me to get measurements,” the purple pony known as Lavender complained. She then looked at Scootaloo. “Which beds have already been taken?” “Just this one,” Scootaloo answered. Lavender then went to the far corner and took the bottom bunk. She took something out of her saddle-bags and started spraying the bed. “Nopony else comes to this bunk-bed,” Lavender stated. “Okay,” Scootaloo said awkwardly. ‘Gee, what’s her problem?’ She thought as Lavender began to spray the newly acquired flight suit as well. Soon, some of the other cadets arrived, each carrying their own flight suit and goggles. They claimed the other beds. All of them stayed away from Lavender, who glared at them if they got too close. They were also put off by the overpowering scent that matched her namesake. The last one to come in was Blue Yonder, who took the lower bunk Scootaloo was at. Blue Yonder dropped her bags and immediately put the flight suit on.” “Wow, this thing’s a lot tighter than I thought it would be,” Blue Yonder exclaimed, once her head was free. “Hmph, wait until you get the full-body flight-suit the Wonderbolts wear,” Scootaloo said. “Rainbow Dash says it’s tight on your whole body, but it keeps you from blacking out in extreme moves.” “Wait, you know Rainbow Dash?” Blue Yonder asked, and a few of the other cadets looked in their direction. “Yeah, she lives in my hometown,” Scootaloo explained. “She helped teach me how to fly.” “Whoa,” Blue Yonder said wide-eyed. “That’s cool,” somepony else said. “Quite the story you have there,” Lavender commented incredulously. Scootaloo scowled at Lavender. True, her claim to know Rainbow Dash on such personal level would be pretty hard to believe if you didn’t live in Ponyville; but the way Lavender simply dismissed this really irritated Scootaloo. She did not like this anti-social, ultra-clean obsessed pony. Lavender simply turned back to what she was doing, completely oblivious to the death stare that Scootaloo was giving her. Not wanting to make a scene—especially on the first day—Scootaloo let the matter drop for the time being. “Well, I guess I better get my flight suit,” Scootaloo said, noticing the time and climbed out of the bunk-bed. “Oh Sweet Celestia!” Blue Yonder exclaimed. “I just realized that we have to take these things off later today!”