Out of the Blue

by Br0nydom

Look to the Sky

A white flash lit up the sky.

Six thousand feet.

The doomed jet continued its downward spiral. Owens yanked forcefully on the joystick, trying desperately to pull out of the dive and slow his descent. The controls were virtually non-responsive. The once green dashboard now flashed a bright, horrid red while sounding out the alarm: “Systems Failure”. Nearly the entire tail had been engulfed in flames as the volatile kerosene fuel continued to leak from the left engine, leaving a thick black smoke trail behind.

Five thousand feet.

The altimeter spun like the blades of a helicopter. Owens’ altitude was dropping at an alarming rate. Electrical systems shorted out and began to burn, setting nearly the entire flight controls on fire. The fuel tank ruptured from the incredible heat and leaked fuel that made its way into the cockpit. Some of the flammable puddles grew dangerously closer and closer to the various electrical fires. The air inside hung thick as some of vaporized fuel condensed on the cold glass of the inside of the canopy, clouding the already blurred view. Owens frantically threw his head around, trying to look for his savior. Ejection handle! Need to find the ejection handle!

Four thousand feet.

The fuel met the fires and ignited. Most of the cockpit’s floor became covered in a yellow-hot blaze. Owens’ legs swung alarmingly close, threatening to become engulfed as the flames licked at him hungrily. The oxygen tank failed. His mask became filled with the same noxious vapors hanging inside the rest of the cockpit. The vapor was nearing its ignition point. The plane grew closer and closer to it’s inevitable demise. Owens was quickly running out of time. He finally found the thick yellow handle sitting by the right side of his side. He promptly shot his right hand down and grabbed it.

Three thousand feet.

The handle didn’t move. “SHIT!” he yelled in a mix of frustration and pure terror. The fires found Owens, catching his left pant leg on fire. He felt his leg grow incredibly hot, but paid little attention to the sensation. His mind was already entirely preoccupied with the fear of not being able to eject. Owens fiercely pulled on the handle, trying to dislodge it from its hidden snag. Ejection handles are NOT supposed to jam! He choked from the burning in his chest and throat as oxygen began to be pushed out by the volatile fuel vapor. The lack of the life-giving gas caused Owens’ head to become fuzzy and his eyes blurry, multiplying the effect from the aircraft’s dizzying vertical spin.

Two thousand feet.

Owens threw every last ounce of his weight and energy into pulling the handle. Yet even that proved worthless. Visibility was nearing zero. His mind fell into a darker and darker haze. He could barely see the sight that he wished he couldn’t: the ground rushing up at a break-neck pace to meet him. Owens could only close his eyes and wait for his aircraft to become a forty-seven-thousand-pound aluminum-composite tomb. At least I had a good run.

One thousand feet. Almost over.

A large, rainbow-hued blur rushed by, slamming the cockpit with a mighty gust of wind, as though by the hand of God himself. A loud snap resounded, barely audible over the other blaring noises in the cockpit. The ejection handle was freed. Owens pulled as hard as was physically possible. The toxic fuel vapors inside were rapidly dispersed as the canopy was fired away from the cockpit. The alarm was drowned out by a deafening howl of wind as the internal blaze was extinguished. A second later, Owens felt his body being crushed with twelve times the force of gravity as the ACES II ejection seat hurled him from the burning jet. Owens already had so little oxygen left in his brain, and with the added G-force, he watched as his vision disappeared down a long dark tunnel. All of his world instantly faded to black.

“Just three more bites, Angel?” Fluttershy said, a slight tone of pleading in her voice.

The pure white rabbit just turned up his nose at the half-eaten carrot.

“Just two more bites?”

Once again, getting no response other than a look of smug defiance.

“One more bite? Please?” Fluttershy held the carrot right up to Angel’s mouth. The rabbit replied by grabbing the carrot and forcefully removing it from the hooves of the surprised pegasus, and chucked it at her. The somewhat pointed end barely missed her eye and instead bounced off of her nose with a dull thud, followed by a quiet “eep!” from Fluttershy. Angel simply turned around and bounced away.

Fluttershy just decided to give up with a sigh. She wished she could just be a little more assertive, but looking into that cute little bunny’s eyes made her lose any sort of anger or resentment towards him, even if he could be a bit mean on certain occasions.

Fluttershy slowly made her way over to her couch, lying down as softly as can be. She had finished all the chores that needed to be done. The day had grown late, and Celestia’s sun had begun to set behind the mountains, casting a bright orange glow through the window of the cottage. Some of the light shined itself in Fluttershy’s fatigued eyes, causing her to moan in discomfort as she rolled over, trying to avoid the light. Sleep was the only thing left to do. Then she considered other options.

Maybe I could go talk to some of my friends! No, I don’t want to bother them. When was the last time she and Rarity had gone on one their little get-togethers? No, Rarity said she was busy working on a custom dress for a new client. I wouldn’t want to disrupt her work. What about Twilight? She’s probably studying. All she ever does is study, Fluttershy thought, while letting out a little chuckle. Oh I know! Maybe I could borrow a book. I haven’t read anything good in a while. Fluttershy shot a glance over at the bookshelf. She had read all of those books over and over. It would be pointless to keep reading over them again.

Her chain of thought was brought to a halt as the silence of the cottage was broken by a sound in the distance. It was some of... howling? Roaring? Fluttershy had never heard such a strange sound before. It was like the winds on a stormy night, a night that would have Fluttershy curled up in bed, her hooves glued over her ears. The weather pegasi in Cloudsdale hadn’t planned a major storm, had they? No, the sound definitely was not the wind. Like the sound was coming from a single source. And it drew slowly closer, and closer still. Could some sort of animal be making that noise? No, that can’t be. I’ve never heard a creature make such a sound...

As Fluttershy’s thought trailed off, Angel Bunny suddenly bounded into the room, his facial expression having shifted from one of insolence to that of fear and awe. He tugged at the foreleg of the now shocked pegasus, attempting to move her over to a window in another room that overlooked a distant field. The strange noise also seemed to be coming from that general direction. Angel stuck his paw toward the window, silently demanding Fluttershy to look out. Taking the cue, she looked to the sky. What met her sight was unbelievable.The anomaly that had been producing the sound was a massive grey object streaking down from the sky, trails of fire and smoke marking its rapid downward spin.

The doomed F/A-18E Super Hornet finally met its fate.

The ground shook as the object slammed into the ground. The wreck erupted into a tremendous ball of flames and smoke blacker than Luna’s night. The mushroom-like black cloud rose into the air as the fires continued to spew the horrifying blackness from the ground. Fluttershy could only stand there entranced, stunned by awe and horror. Except for the distant sound of raging fires, the air sat stagnant and still in a ghostly silence.

The silence was quickly shattered. The air was now filled with a cacophony of squawks, shrieks, and various other calls as the animals of Fluttershy’s cottage ran amok, scattering to and fro in reaction to the incident. Some of the animals ran, and flew, into the Everfree Forest.

Fluttershy panicked. That forest was dangerous! If they got lost in there, something really bad could happen, things Fluttershy cringed even thinking about. “Wait! Come back!” She yelled, with her typical low volume voice, still held tight by fear. She flew straight into the forest, going as fast as her feeble wings could possibly carry her.

Owens’ ever-so-slowly regained consciousness. His head was still swimming as if it were composed entirely of water, sloshing around inside his cranium. His vision was still blurred and unfocused. His hearing was still ringing from the alarms and rushing wind during the ejection. His nose failed to pick up any sort of smells, apart from the jet fuel he had inhaled so heavily; his nostrils burned. And speaking of burning, his lungs. They burned, oh God, they burned! With each labored breath, a fresh wave of pain seized Owens’ chest, like someone had poured molten lava down his throat. Exhaling was followed by a series of heavy coughing as his lungs tried in vain to remove the toxic substance within. And his lungs weren’t the only thing trying to purge the toxin. Owens felt his stomach begin to churn as it prepared itself to convulse. He quickly, yet weakly, reached his arm up to his helmet and disconnected the oxygen mask, its tube now dangling loosely after having disconnected from the aircraft itself. He couldn’t have done it too soon. He felt his gut tighten as a hot stream of vomit surged out of his mouth and onto the ground... far below.

It was then that Owens realized that he wasn’t even on the ground. Looking up, he realized that his parachute had been snagged on the branches of a tall tree. A very tall tree. Looking down, Owens could see just how tall. He decided to weigh his limited options. Either:

A) I disconnect myself from the parachute and fall, and possibly suffer serious injury.
B) Stay up here and slowly rot to death.

This just isn’t my day, is it? Owens thought with a painful sigh of frustration. Option A sounded a little better to him. But before executing his choice, he gave himself one last look-over to check for any injuries he already had. Owens wiggled, bent, and twisted this way and that, seeing if any bone was fractured or muscle torn. Thankfully, he felt very little pain. He did feel that the skin on his left leg was loosely sticking to the inside of the flight suit pant leg. Trying to shake it loose resulted in a sharp wave of pain from the outside of his leg, suggesting that the skin might have been burned. Owens slowly lifted his left leg, trying to get a better view of the area. The pant leg had been almost entirely scorched by the fire inside the cockpit from only a few minutes earlier. The skin had merely taken damage from the indirect heat. Thank God for fire-retardant flight suits. Well, no more screwin’ around. It’s getting dark. Wait, dark!? Squinting through the tree’s foliage, Owens noticed that the sun was setting. But... it was just morning. How...? He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Just... focus.

Owens reached for the parachute release cord and prepared to pull. Just before doing so, he looked toward the ground one last time, down at the dizzying drop. He drew in a long, slow breath, ignoring the pain that came with the fresh air. Releasing the breath, he wrapped his fingers around the cord’s handle and gave it a forceful yank.

Owens felt his body start to drop like a stone. Choosing not to look at the ground rushing up below, he curled himself into a fetal position, involuntarily using his right arm as a potential brace.

Crack.

Fluttershy continued to fly through the forest. As her wings began to grow tired, though, she returned all four hooves to the ground and slowed to a brisk trot. Looking up to the right, the smoke from... that thing... still rose into the darkening air. The animals had scattered in all directions, some too fast for the pegasus to catch. Oh, if only I had Dash to help me out right now, she wished. She slowed her pace down further, coming to a halt in the middle of the forest.

The Everfree Forest was scary enough during the daytime. But with daylight disappearing, the air hung heavy with a dark and foreboding atmosphere. Everything was still and silent. Looking around, she tried to figure out just where in the hay she was. The pillar of smoke and fire seemed to provide the only sign pointing to the way out, since she had gone far off the beaten path.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the motionless air. Even having worked with animals for so much of her life, Fluttershy still could not recognize what creature had produced the sound. The tone, however, was unmistakable. It was one of pain and anguish.

The pegasus snapped her head towards the direction of the scream. Digging her hooves hard into the ground, she broke into a gallop towards the unknown victim. Her caretaker instincts drove her on. Her path was reassured by the sound of another yell of pain, though shorter and filled with random obscenities. Fluttershy could tell she was drawing closer, as she slowed once again to a trot. Scanning her eyes across the forest floor, she finally saw what she came for.

Briefly picking her pace back up to a trot to get closer, she got a better idea as to what had produced the screaming. Like the mysterious object from earlier, what laid before her eyes was unbelievable. Though it had been saying words only a few seconds before, it was definitely not a pony. The creature clutched its foreleg on the ground, an expression of pain plastered upon its fleshy face.

Wait, no, the creature’s body structure suggested that it was two-legged, similar to Spike. What struck Fluttershy the most was that the creature was almost entirely clothed from neck to... hoof? No, paws? Definitely not. She couldn’t tell, as it was wearing some sort of strange covering around its... its... feet. That’s it! Feet!

This thing must be some sort of ape, she thought, excited to have possibly discovered a new species, possibly even an intelligent being! Her racing thoughts were cut short as the creature turned its head toward her, Its expression partially replaced by one of confusion and amazement.

…................. The fuck!? was the only thought that broke through the thick fog in Owens’ mind. Before him stood something he certainly had not counted on seeing today. It was a creature very much like a pony, only somewhat smaller in stature. Not to mention... other differences. The pony thing had an extremely unusual color scheme for that kind of animal. Its coat was a creamy yellow with a soft pink mane that fell down both sides of its head, not unlike human hair. What really stuck out were its wings. Wings? The pony possessed a pair of small wings that had been folded across its back. Craning his neck slightly, Owens noticed a strange set of markings on its... flank... right? The markings resembled a triad of butterflies.

Damn. That jet fuel’s really messin’ up my head right now. That, or Denmark has some weird animals. Either way, I gotta find a way out of... wait, there’s no major forests where I was. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I was over one of the harbors when I was... Owens’ train of thought was broken as the pony started to speak. Speak!?

“Um... are you alright? Can you understand me?” Fluttershy asked the creature, falling into her typically timid tone.

It just talked. Yep, I’m hallucinating. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Ignoring the pony-hallucination’s words, Owens slowly tried to get back on his feet. His entire body was seized with an aching pain, a testimony to the fall. This pain revived the agonizing sensation in his right arm, which had been broken as his entire body weight had been focused on it during the impact. Owens again cradled his right arm with his left as the look of agony returned to his face.

As the creature ignored her concerns and tried to stand upright on its legs, it suddenly grabbed its arm with an expression of pain, indicating a possible bone fracture. Once again, her caretaker instincts kicked in. Rushing over to the injured creature, Fluttershy took hold of both its unaffected arm and helped it stand up. It was then that she noticed a strange smell hanging on the clothing of the creature. It smelled bitter, noxious, and very, very foreign. She had never smelled anything like it before, unlike any sort of odor an animal could naturally produce. The smell bit at her nostrils and made her want to sneeze. Ignoring this, Fluttershy flapped her wings, trying to generate the necessary lift to fully hoist the creature up to a standing position on its two hind legs.

The pony suddenly darted behind Owens and helped him to his feet. He could feel the soft rushing of air and quiet beating of wings as the pony flapped behind him, using the lift to pull him up. Alright, that didn’t exactly seem like a hallucination, he pondered, still trying to sum up what had just happened. Before his mind could form a clear explanation, the pony came back around to face his front. At five feet, nine inches, Owens wasn’t exactly tall for a man of his age. He was a fighter pilot; it didn’t matter. Yet now, standing at full height, he realized just how small the pony was. Its head seemed to barely rise above his lower chest. Once again it spoke, this time in a voice slightly tinged with amazement, its body trembling.

“Um... you look hurt. You really sh-should come back with me, if... if that’s alright w-with you.”

Some subconscious part of Owens’ mind compelled him to reply this time. “Where to?” he asked the timid pony.

“Back to my, um, m-my cottage. It’s a bit of a walk from here. I-it’s getting pretty dark; we really should get going, if... um... if that’s okay... with you.”

Let’s see here. I’ve got a small, talking, winged pony telling me to go back towards a cottage out of these woods, which probably won’t be anywhere near where I came down, while I have a broken arm and somewhat severe jet fuel poisoning. I could follow it and possibly find out where the hell I am and how to get back to friendly forces, or, I could stay out here and probably get attacked by hungry wildlife smelling the fuel on me and looking for an exotic new taste. You know what? Let’s go with the former.

“Alright then,” Owens said to the pony, “show me the way.”

“Um, okay,” it replied.

As the pony quickly flapped its wings and took flight, though hardly leaving the ground by more than a few yards, she made her way back the way she probably had come from before. Owens followed behind on foot.

As the two made their way back to the pony’s cottage, Owens broke the silence by asking, “If you don’t mind me asking, do you have a name?”

The winged pony slowed its flight and replied, “Oh yes, um, sorry to be rude. My name is Fluttershy. What’s your name? That is, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“My name is Stanley, Stanley Owens, of the United States Navy. Nice to meet you,” he replied, transitioning into a short and ragged coughing fit as his lungs were reminded of their jet fuel contents. The pony, Fluttershy, didn’t take long to notice this.

“Oh my, are you alright, Stanley? You don’t sound very good,” she stated with an expression of concern.

Owens merely replied, “Long story.”

As man and pony continued along their path, they finally came to the edge of the forest, less than half a mile away from the cottage. Suddenly, Owens stopped. It was clear why, seeing what lay in front of him. His eyes met the massive wreckage of his former aircraft, now twisted up beyond belief and still burning ferociously, as somehow the fuel supply hadn’t quite used itself up yet.

Now almost completely dark, the fires shone like a beacon in the night air. The scene looked like a moving still picture from Hell itself. He could only stand there, completely mesmerized, less than a hundred yards away. Gradually, however, he came to his senses as he recalled the ordnance that had been on board.

Owens hadn’t jettisoned them away from the aircraft, and what was left of his plane was somewhat intact, suggesting that the bombs and missiles had not yet detonated. Then he heard something over the sound of the raging flames. It was a faint whistling noise. And it was coming directly from the direction of the aircraft. Shooting a quick glance towards Fluttershy, then back towards the crash site, the reality of what was about to occur hit Owens like a train. Ohhhhh shit...!

“GET DOWN!” He cried out as he grabbed Fluttershy forcefully and forced them both to the ground, Owens covering the shocked pegasus. As soon as he did, several hundred pounds of unstable high explosives finally cooked off.

A ground-shattering blast ripped through the air. Tons upon tons of dirt were torn from the ground and cast into the night sky. Massive shards of the former jet went flying in every direction, each piece threatening to tear down anything in its path. One of these pieces went straight at Owens’ direction. The human felt a sharp gust of wind as the debris zipped mere inches over his head. As the masses of debris met their final resting place, scattered around what had been the crash site, the thick cloud of dust and dirt slowly began to blow away on a light breeze and settle back on the ground.

Owens felt a sickening wave of pain wash over him once again as he realized that he had landed on his right arm. However, he forced the nauseating sensation to the back of his head when he realized he still had poor Fluttershy pinned to the ground, who was now faintly whimpering in terror. As he asked her if she was alright, Owens’ eyes met Fluttershy’s. Right then, he knew he wasn’t looking at some fragment of his distorted imagination, or any sort of colorful animal. He saw a fellow sentient being. And in those eyes, he saw genuine fear. But he also saw something different within those deep cyan-blue eyes. What he saw was a memory. A memory of his sister, back at home.

The Atlanta International Airport was busy. Very busy. Due to the recently declared war, thousands and thousands of American troops were being deployed to fight the emerging Communist threat. The wide halls were packed nearly shoulder to shoulder as soldiers went to and fro, trying to catch their plane headed for their designated deployment base.

Stanley Owens stood with his brother Michael at their gate, B-17. The brothers couldn’t help but chuckle, thinking about the famous B-17 Flying Fortress of World War II. And there they were now, finally being deployed to fight in what many have dubbed World War III. These Neo-Soviets of Russia were now doing what the United Nations had feared would happen all throughout the twentieth century: spread communism through full-scale war.

Beside the two brothers stood their father, Joseph, along with their younger sister Sarah, who had just barely begun her high school career. The attendant at the desk announced for the passengers to board the plane. Just before the two brothers joined the other servicemen and women in the line to board, it was time for a little family good-bye. Brother and brother gave father and sister each a warm embrace, knowing very well that they may not come back. As Stanley slowly released the embrace from Sarah, his sister pulled him back in again, beginning to cry into his shoulder. She had for a long time known that this day would come, that her favorite brother, practically her guardian, would be sent over-seas, thousands of miles away. The war had already proven itself to be brutal to the countries already involved. And the casualty numbers just kept climbing.

Through the muffled sobs, Stanley could just make out the words, “Please don’t go, Stan. I don’t want you to go. I don’t want you to die.” She collapsed back into tears and incomprehensible mumbles. As Stanley slowly lifted her head off his shoulder, he held her face straight in front of him. As he stared into her eyes, those eyes as deep and blue as the ocean itself, he said to her, “Don’t worry, Sarah. Me and Michael are gonna be fine. Nothing will ever happen to us. I promise.”

“I promise.”

As Owens approached the cottage with Fluttershy, he couldn’t but notice the sweet aroma of flowers that managed to make its way through his nostrils past the pungent fuel stench still plaguing his sense of smell. The inside of the cottage was warm, and hung with the odor of all kinds of animals. She’s probably a vet or something... or maybe just really into animals. The interior was simple, nothing too fancy or extravagant. Works for me, he thought. Fluttershy flipped a switch, and the dark room they were standing in was lit up. He looked around the room, looking for the light source. There was none. Like the room had been lit up by... magic? No no no no no, that’s physically impossible. Well, then again, he had encountered a winged pony that could talk. Come to think of it, she kind of resembled the Pegasus that had once adorned his now annihilated aircraft. A pegasus. A real life pegasus. This day just keeps getting more and more weird.

“It’s pretty late. You can use my bed, um, if you like Stanley,” Fluttershy told him.

“Oh sure, thanks.”

“First we need to fix up your arm, if that’s okay.”

Owens replied as simply as ever, “Whatever you can do.”