//------------------------------// // ECRL Round 1: Cloudsdale - Qualifying // Story: ECRL: The Wonderhawks // by WildFire15 //------------------------------// A few hours after concluding first practice, the racers returned to the track for second practice . Dash had spent some time going up and down an empty area of the paddock slowing and flicking herself around by just throwing her hind out and thought she’d gotten a good handle on the technique, ignoring the cameras watching her. Going onto her first timed lap of the session, she made sure to aim for the right part of the first corner to turn, spreading her front legs out to produce enough drag to slow down, tilted over to start turning and carefully flicked her hind to turn sharply, flicking it back to counteract the movement. She missed the apex of the corner by a half a length, but she was perfectly pointed down the Morning Glory and going much faster than she had done. A huge grin spread across her face as she hurtled down the near straight section of track, hitting the sound barrier sooner than she had previously and getting closer to the next pony on track; Quicksilver. Putting him out of her mind for the time being, she spread herself out to slow down quickly, but not as drastically as she had done, tilting into the Sunrise Hairpin and thrusting her way through and out onto the straight that led to the Factory complex of corners. Coming up on the kink that was Factory One, she started to glide before tilting in, not losing any speed as she glanced the apex and exited the corner perfectly. Ahead was the really difficult corner, Factory Two, and she focused on the line, slowing down a bit more and throwing her hind into the corner as she tilted. She was a bit slow to counteract it, but she was still pointed in more or less the right direction and going faster as she headed to Factory three. She was going a bit too fast for the corner, she realized, so she spread out her front legs to slow down and turned in. Tilting into the fast corner that was Reservoir one, Quicksilver had gotten away from her somewhat, but she was still going much faster than she had in first practice. Reservoir two was still an awkward corner she wasn’t sure of, but she kept some increased drag up to get through it quicker than she had, but seemingly slower than Quicksilver as he disappeared around the final corner. After getting up to and back down to the right speed between corners, she tilted in, clipping the first apex, the outside of the corner and then the second apex as she completed the lap. “Much better!” Ratchett immediately commented. “That was a 1:25.9, over three seconds faster than anything you did earlier, but I think you can do better.” “And I will.” Dash smirked as she started her next lap. *** Consistently doing fast laps was proving more difficult than Dash thought it might. She could consistently pull off tricks when performing, but performance flying didn’t throw in the occasional wildcard of other ponies trying to do the same thing in the same airspace. Ratchett insisted she stay out for as long as possible as a form of race simulation, her lap times fluctuating by about a second either way depending on who she found on track to pass or get passed by and her general exhaustion. Now she’d been practicing racing for months, she didn’t feel as exhausted as she had done before but the strain was still getting to her a bit. Flying around on what she forcefully recalled was her thirty second lap, she followed Concorde through the Reservoir section after he’d passed her in the Factory complex. His times were not only consistent, but over a second faster than her own, mostly through these complexes as they went to end the lap. Going through the last corner, she saw him wobble slightly as he passed the first apex, a wobble that intensified as he fought against it before losing control and slamming into the track, sliding onto the run off area as Dash went past. She looked over her shoulder as a couple marshals rushed over to him. “twenty five, seven.” Ratchett informed her as she crossed the line, the one minute being a given now. “Focus forwards, you may catch Riggwelter on this lap.” “Is Concorde ok?” She found herself asking. “He is, though I think that’s the end of his practice.” Dash knew landing on your wing like that was painful and could easily fracture a bone. However, the ECRL employed a near army of skilled Unicorn medics who could fix such fractures quickly, if incredibly painfully. As she went past one of the big screens, which were set up for the crowd’s convenience, she had a quick glance as she’d noticed a few other flyers doing. She had hoped to see what happened to Concorde, but instead it showed someone’s helmet camera footage, though she didn’t know who or where they were. Putting the incident out of her mind, she continued on for the remaining thirty minutes. *** 1:26.1, 1:25.8, 1:26.0, 1:25.7, Dash was getting a bit more consistent, but she hadn’t gone any faster than the 1:22.5 she set at the midway point of the session, or even matched it. After a glance at one of the big screens, she realised she was twenty first fastest, which wasn’t any good but she was at least ahead of Lightning Dust in twenty third. While gliding around to get ready for her last fast lap, she glanced up again at the screen to see what the fastest time was and saw, to her surprise, the camera focused on Dust as she set nineteenth fastest time at 1:25.0. “Where was Dust faster than me?” She immediately asked Ratchett. “She found that time in sector three.” He replied after a moment to check. As she was coming into the Reservoir sector, she started to pick up speed to go onto her last fast lap, seeing no one was ahead of her to get in the way. She hurtled into the last corner to get a good run onto her lap, banking hard and clipping the first apex perfectly before she realised something wrong; her inside wing felt light and she was tilting further into the corner then she intended. Trying to correct the problem, she flapped her inside wing hard but that sent her rolling in the other way too fast to react too and she slammed down hard on her other wing, rolling across the run off area and into the barrier. “Dash, you ok?” Ratchett asked as Dash shuck her head clear, the marshals already there to help her up. She was immediately aware of the sharp pain in her left wing, having landed on it. “Hurt my wing.” She informed him as she was helped off track. Concorde was still stood there having crashed earlier. “You alright, Dash?” He asked, though she didn’t feel like answering him. What had she done to end up crashing like that? While she thought, the unicorn medic examined her wing. “Relax, Rainbow Dash.” He told her, reassuringly. “You’ve fractured the ulna in your wing and I’m going to fuse it. This will hurt.” He added before going to work. It was almost like someone was drawing a white hot poker along the bone as the fracture was fused back together. She’d experienced the feeling before, but it didn’t make it any less pleasant as the medic took three minutes over the healing. “Done.” He informed her eventually. “You’ll be ready to go for qualifying tomorrow.” “Did you see what happened?” She asked Concorde. “So far as I could tell, you made the same mistake I did.” He shrugged. “Only difference is you reacted fast enough to try and counter it, if a bit much.” “What was your mistake?” “I don’t really know, just one of those things that happens when you’re pushing hard. I need to have a look at my replay to have a better idea.” *** After watching the remainder of the session, Concorde and Rainbow Dash made their way back to their team stable. Lightning Dust was reading over her times, not looking up when her team mates returned. Dash looked over her shoulder at them while Concorde immediately went to their track map and started discussing with Ratchett and Spanner how some of the other flyers took the last two corners. Having missed out the last thirty minutes, Concorde’s fastest time left him seventeenth, only point four of a second ahead of Dust in nineteenth. After her own mistake, Dash ended up twenty third, a result that annoyed her after she’d improved so much. Maffett set up the laptops and plugged in the helmet cameras to view the footage, prodding Concorde to get his attention when they were set up. Concorde fast forwarded through his footage to the point he crashed. He banked into the corner and soon the camera shuck side to side before he slammed down on the track, his inside wing not able to provide the lift he wanted and giving up on him. “Very sudden.” He mused, watching as his inside wing seemed to push against nothing before he landed on his back. “Didn’t think anything of the wobble when it happened.” “I think it was wind. There were a few complaints of wind between the grandstands there and a few others wobbled and crashed.” Spanner informed them as Ratchett fast forwarded through Dash’s footage. Compared to Concorde’s, her footage showed her flying to be slightly more erratic then his, but at least she wasn’t miles slower than him this time. Eventually they reached her crash, which appeared to be identical to Concorde’s only she rolled over the other way and tumbled across the run off area after trying to correct herself. “Well, the problem was you were flapping about.” Fleet observed, the replay showing Dash rolling across the run off area. “Sometimes it’s better to let yourself crash to avoid injury.” “I didn’t let myself crash.” Concorde protested. “No, but you didn’t fight against it. You weren’t injured, after all.” “Does pride count?” “Seriously though, Dash,” Fleet continued, ignoring Concorde. “Best course of action is to level out or let yourself crash, brush yourself off and carry on. You can easily get out of sliding across the track without injury but if you end up rolling then you’re almost guaranteed to hurt yourself and have to retire from the race.” “I’m fine now, it’s no biggie.” Dash said. “Maybe not, but it can take very little to injury yourself enough to not be able to race. Some ponies can cart wheel through a gravel trap and slam into a tyre wall without serious injury and some can barely glance a wall and be left unable to fly for months. The pair of you were lucky.” “Thanks for that reassuring speech.” Concorde said sarcastically. “Want to warn us about the dangers of ramps and stairs next?” “I want you to review every single note and detail we have and consider how you can improve before we head off for the night. We’ve got qualifying tomorrow and you’ll need to put together the fastest laps you can.” *** Dash stood in the stable the next day, waiting with her team mates for qualifying to start. They’d already been out on track for morning warm up and now they were ready for an hour long session to determine the grid order for the race the next day. Fleet’s words from the previous day had stuck with Dash. She’d had some pretty big crashes in the past and got away with limited injury before eventually breaking her wing completely in a fairly minor accident. They were playing with incredibly small percentages here, walls never far away and there was no worse way to put herself out of contention for joining the Wonderbolts then having a crash that would put her out of several races. To that end, she’d been taking the last corner more carefully and coming away a lot slower, putting her back in the 1:30 range she had originally started in. According to Ratchett, the pole position time was likely to be below 1:20 and her warm up times put her at risk of not qualifying for the race at all, which worried her further. “One minute!” Fleet informed them over the radio. The flock of butterflies in Dash’s stomach got more intense, reminding her of their presence. “Best of luck, mares.” Concorde said before putting on his goggles and flying out of the stable to join the increasing queue of ponies. The crow was getting larger and louder, cheering as ponies joined the line to get out on track. Dash swallowed her nerves as best as she could, put on her goggles and joined the queue, the crowd roaring again. At least a third of the field had already lined up ahead of her and were busy stretching. Dash stretched her wings and her legs, trying to focus on what she had to do. “Thirty seconds to go.” Ratchett informed her, which only broke her focus. “Wind has been confirmed to be non-existent, the gaps around Reservoir three closed up so I want you to attack that corner again on each lap. You were losing most of your time in the Reservior complex.” The reminder wasn’t welcome, those corners being the bane of her existence here. “Green flag, off you go.” Ratchett said over the comm as Dash saw the marshal waving a flag to start the session. *** Dash stayed out on track for the whole session, completing several short, fast stints of three laps before resting for a lap. As per the rules, Ratchett informed her of any Pegasus on a fast lap coming up behind her and she dutifully got out of the way, knowing if she impeded their lap she would be put to the back of the grid. Her fast laps weren’t good, going back to her first practice times when she was miles away from the pace of the next Pegasus. According to Ratchett, it was all down to the last sector of the track, where he kept encouraging her to attack but that seemed to be getting her nowhere as she ran wide in Reservoir two and was worried about troubling the wall again in Reservoir three. Towards the end of a slow lap, she followed Mercedes through the Reservoir section after she passed her. It seemed in Reservoir two the reigning champion used her front legs to pull herself in, seemingly blocking the airflow from fully getting to her inside wing before slowing and flicking herself into the tightest part of corner. The technique enabled Mercedes to take far more speed into the corner then Dash had, so she made a note to try it on the next lap. The next lap was a bit sloppy, with a mistake in the Sunrise Hairpin and missing the apex of both Factory One and Three, but as she went into Reservoir two, she held her front left leg out as she glided into the corner, the drag causing her to turn tighter without losing much speed. As she reached the tightest part of the corner, she flicked her hind out slightly and back again when she was pointed in the right direction and thrust her way out of it, knowing she had gone much faster through that corner then she had before. “Dash, you’re up but you’re still losing time in the last sector.” Ratchett said, starting to sound more urgent. “We’ve got three minutes left.” Three minutes already?! Where had the time gone? Almost panicking, she threw herself at the last corner without even a thought and powered onto a new lap. She barely registered what she did through the Morning Glory sector, no massive mistakes to worry about as she headed into the Factory complex. She could see a few ponies ahead of her on quick laps and a few doing slow laps and staying out of the way. Factory Two proved as awkward as ever, especially with Ratchett giving her a breakdown of her sector times but she ignored him as she continued. Hurtling through Reservoir one, Dash had to nearly come to a complete stop as she found another pony going slowly ahead of her. “Oh, sweet Celestia!” Dash shouted to herself, noticing the number of the slow pony and realising it was Aperto. He looked over his shoulder, realising what had happened and got out of the way, beckoning her through into Reservoir two. “Push, Dash! You were up on that lap!” Ratchett practically shouted as she picked up speed again. That lap was a bust now as she went through the last corner onto what would be her last lap. She threw herself into the first corner, not scrubbing off much speed but still getting through as she hurtled down the Morning Glory, a couple other ponies moving aside as she hit the sound barrier. She realised how desperate the situation was; she simply couldn’t fail to qualify for her first race as she reached the Sunrise Hairpin and slowed as late as she could, the queasy feeling returning as she banked in and thrust herself out as fast as possible. Ignoring what Ratchett was saying she kept pushed, slightly missing the apex of the kink and then throwing herself slightly too hard into Factory two. She didn’t lose too much speed though as she went through Factory three. Dash ignored the latest split time Ratchett provided again, not wanting near crippling news as she went as fast as she could into the Reservoir complex, slowing through Reservoir two with a quick flick to get herself directed out of the tightest part of the corner. Focused fully, she went into the final two corners as fast as she could, slowing slightly before banking, clipping the first apex, the outside and then the second apex and flapping with all her might to get to the finish line. The chequered flag was waving as she went past, which was when she stopped flapping and started to glide, relaxing her body. “Twenty one, one, Dash. Great work.” Ratchett said, sighing with relief. Dash sighed as well, relieved her efforts paid off and she’d qualified with her fastest lap yet. “So where am I?” “Unfortunately twenty forth.” Ratchett replied, which replaced Dash’s relief with confusion and annoyance. “But you’re only a one point four seconds off the pole time. Any minor improvement could put you up several places.” “Where’s Dust and Concorde?” “Twenty third and twelfth respectively. Seems Hest felt like playing with Corde and blocked a faster lap time. Between him and Aperto getting in your way, you should be twenty second for the race. “You qualified with your first lap on the last run. I reckon your second lap would have been your fastest if you didn’t run into Aperto.” Ratchett continued, Dash slightly reassured she still had more speed to make use out of. She continued to glide around the track, the crowd around her politely applauding as she went past. She waved to them and a few even waved back, a few of them she noticed wearing Wonderbolts caps. She felt a bit better knowing there was some support for her and her team in the crowd now and she was filled with excitement for the race tomorrow.