//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: Reality // Story: On a Wing and a Prayer // by White Comet //------------------------------// Astute sat in the lounge all suited up in his flight gear ready to go. Well, he and his crew were all ready to go. They were just waiting for the last flight to return. And he wasn’t the only one getting impatient to go. Plenty of other ponies from other planes were pacing around the lounge waiting for the sound of engines flying overhead to signal their return. Astute finished off the last dregs of the coffee in his cup before setting it down on the nearest table with his magic. He took a moment to pause and look at Seventh Bomber Squadron’s roster. A chalkboard mounted on the wall with everypony’s name on it. Only some names had been struck through...and it seemed to be happening more and more as the war progressed… He heard hoofsteps approaching as he continued to examine the names of those they had lost. The source of the hoofsteps eventually appeared in his line of sight. A member of the support crew quickly glanced at Astute before taking a piece of chalk in his hoof and struck another line through. For Astute, the sound of the chalk scraping across the board felt like it was trying to tug his heart out. The stallion put the chalk down and looked back at Astute. “They tried, but...he died peacefully at least…” Having no words, Astute could only nod. The stallion acknowledged then carried on with his duties. Now wanting to take his mind away from the idea of potentially meeting the safe fate, Astute pulled a pocket watch out of one of his jacket pockets. Reading the time, it now marked twenty minutes in total that the first flight was overdue. He turned around, walking towards the exit, but not before catching the headline on a newspaper left on one of the lounge tables; EQUESTRIA LOSES TALL TALE. He walked out onto a patch of grass where his crew and plenty of other teams were waiting. Sparky stood alert, while Snapshot, Barber, and Slingshot sat resting on the grass. Melody laid on her belly, looking bored as anything. Even Kobalt was sitting idly with the rest of them instead of doing some last-minute tinkering with the plane. All geared up and ready to move at a moment's notice. There was definitely a bad feeling in the air today… He approached Sparky, who noticed him as he approached. “No sign?” Astute asked. Sparky shook his head, “Nothing,” he replied in a frustrated tone. “They must have all been shot down,” Snapshot stomped her hoof on the grass, “I knew splittin’ the sorties was a bad idea.” “They’re just trying to be more flexible with the fuel, the Bugs are pushing hard,” Sparky chimed in. “The fighters and dive-bombers need it more than we do. And that’s before the tanks in the army and ships in the navy.” Snapshot groaned, sitting down on the grass. “I just wanna get up there and show the bugs what-for.” Spark chuckled, “Well, feel free to request a transfer to fly a Typhoon or a Beaufighter.” “Pfft,” Snapshot rolled her eyes, “I’ve heard bad things about the Tiffy.” “Yeah, it struggled to meet the expectations set on Stratus, if I recall…” Astute rubbed his chin, recalling the information. “I’m sure they’ll fix it,” Melody chimed in, then looked over at Kobalt. “Sounds like something you’d be good at, Kobalt. Fancy a job at Stratus?” Kobalt chuffed, “I’m not going anywhere.” Aside from the occasional short conversation, something really seemed up. The planes from the squadron that flew should really be back by now. Sparky checked his watch. They were almost half an hour late. “Can’t they just get us in the air already?” Snapshot pleaded. “We’ve only got one runway. If they return needing an emergency landing, we’ll be in the way,” Sparky explained. Snapshot folded her forelegs. “I guess…” her ear twisted in the direction of a buzzing sound...the sound of an engine. “Oh, finally!” Everypony looked in the direction of the sound. It was definitely a Halifax engine...but it didn't sound right. It sounded damaged. And it sounded like only one plane… Their attention was quickly drawn again by a warning siren. Not an air raid siren...the emergency siren to clear the runway. Sparky spread his wings and immediately took to the sky to get a clearer picture. And the problem soon became apparent—a Halifax...one lone Halifax...limping through the air. The outer right engine had thick black smoke billowing out of it, the inner right propeller seemed to have stopped spinning altogether. Smoke and various fluids were blowing out of numerous holes around the aircraft. Emergency vehicles rushed across the grass, sirens blaring to reach the end of the runway where the plane was going to be touching down. Spark moved in a little closer, but not too close to make sure he didn’t get in anypony’s way. Being a pegasus, he could quite easily hover out of the way. The plane descended gently towards the runway, but Spark could tell it was coming in way too fast. He saw the flaps still attempting to extend as the landing gear near the tarmac. Presumably, the pilot was trying to keep its speed up in the event they had a complete power failure during the landing approach. A good idea, but the other risk was that they might overshoot the runway… The tyres screeched as they made contact with the tarmac, creating a small puff of smoke. Another screeching immediately followed, this time of the aircraft's brakes desperately trying to slow it down. The plane was slowing down, but in his mind Spark worked out that it wouldn’t be enough...at least to his guess… Spark flew through the air, following barely-controlled aircraft. It started slowly steering to the right...at first, Spark assumed damage. But then he clocked the large patches of grass separating the taxiways. It had been quite wet recently, the ground was still soft and muddy. The extra resistance from the wheels digging in might be enough to stop it...good thinking from that pilot. The wheels transferred onto the grass and the plane immediately started bumping up and down from the uneven terrain. The wheels even left the ground at certain stages. But it seemed to be working, it was slowing down. After several moments of uncontrolled sliding, it ran out of momentum and stopped just short of the end of the runway. Spark pumped his wings and rushed over to try and help out. Other pegasi with their gift of flight also used it to their advantage, doing whatever they could to help out. Mainly to make sure everypony was okay. Spark pulled open the rear hatch only to find he ripped it straight off its hinges from the damage. He moved out of the way just in time before it fell on him. He didn't waste time jumping through, only to be greeted by lots of smoke. Using a wing, he pulled his goggles down over his eyes to stop the smoke getting to them. He looked through the smoke to his right to see everypony in the cabin doing their best to get out. They may have been injured, but they seemed mobile enough by themself, which was all he needed to know. Because his main concern was the door to the tailgunners’ position was still closed. He galloped through the plane to the door and knocked on it several times. “Hello?!” He shouted but didn’t even wait for an answer before he began to pry the door open himself. He had some trouble opening it, from the body of the pony that was in the way. He coughed a few times as he heaved the door, trying his best to avoid inhaling smoke. He pulled his oxygen mask over his face to try and help. It wasn’t connected to any oxygen supply, but it might at least filter out some of the smoke and buy him a few more seconds. He eventually managed to jam the door wide enough open to help the stallion out. “Are you alright?!” He called but got no response. He again didn’t wait for an answer and started dragging him out. Placing his hooves across the stallion's body, he felt something warm and liquid...blood. He must have been shot. But under his hooves, Spark could still feel him breathing, albeit struggling. “C’mon, hang in there!” He tried to encourage as he pulled the stallion out. By the time he managed to get the stallion half-out, several other ponies had rushed to the aid of the stricken aircraft. He suddenly had several hooves and unicorn magic assistance to help him get the stallion out of the plane. With ponies much more qualified for this than him, Spark got out the way and let them get on with it, backing out through the same hatch he went in. He immediately tore the oxygen mask off his face and gasped for fresh, smoke-free air. Or at least as smoke-free as he could get, standing next to a burning aircraft. The fire crews had arrived to help stem the fire, and the loud hiss of the water cannons filled the air as they soaked the plane combined with the various mutterings of the several ponies that had gathered around, wanting to help in any way they can. “What happened?” Spark heard the voice of Hailstorm ask. He twisted his head in the direction of the conversation, looking over at one of the plane's crew members, possibly the pilot, being treated for wounds by a medic while talking to the squadron leader. “The Bugs just fell on us like a pack of ravenous wolves!” The pilot dramatized. “Just...through the clouds...we never saw them coming…” He lowered his face into his forehooves. “They picked off the flight lead...like it was nothing…” Spark trotted slowly towards Hailstorm...but didn’t know what to say at the scene. The crew were in various stages of treatment. The pilot talking to Hailstorm seemed like he would live, but the rest of his team were either receiving treatment there on the grass or being loaded into an ambulance. There was one particular pony he had his eyes on though; the stallion he helped out of the tailgun. Two medic ponies were examining him on the grass, removing his flight gear to reveal his horrific wounds. Spark cringed a little, but the medics didn’t skip it beat. Which only proved how used they were to seeing this… They were trying to get some response out of him while treating his wounds but failing. One of them pressed a hoof into his neck, waited a few seconds, but then looked up and shook his head at the other medic. Who in turn reached into his bag and pulled out a stethoscope. He put the pieces in his ears before lowering the metal piece onto the chest of the stallion. He held it there for a few seconds...but then shook his head the same way the other medic did and made a slicing motion across his neck at the same time. ...Well, there was the answer. Spark didn’t even know the stallion, but seeing him get pretty much declared dead struck him deep. He tried to save him...he felt like he failed. He lifted his hoof up, still with the stallions blood on it. “Are you alright?” Hailstorm's voice broke him out of his thoughts. “Y-yes, Sir!” Spark answered back quickly. Hailstorm sighed and looked away before looking back at Storm. “Part of the job…” he looked over to his left at all the other plane crews now running back to their own planes, ready to get started. “We don’t have much time, so I’ll talk to you later. You need to be in the air pronto.” “Of course,” Spark nodded and turned around. His crew were already waiting to go, and with a flick of his head, they all started running towards their plane. Now he could only hope that they weren’t going to end up with the same fate…