The Wonder Years
Chapter 3: Cadet Scootaloo Reporting For Duty Part Two
Health Office
Wonderbolt Academy, Cloudsdale
Dressed in her newly issued cadet flightsuit, Scootaloo sat impatiently in the waiting room.
Despite what she had told Sweetie Belle about not expecting special treatment, Scootaloo had to admit that a part of her was a little disappointed Dash hadn’t met her at the gates. Worse, she’d been sent straight to the health office after her papers had been processed. How was she supposed to know her vaccinations were a month out of date?
Scootaloo hated hospitals, and this place shared the same clinical antiseptic smell she’d come to associate with broken limbs and sunny days stuck indoors. Even the reading material was the same dry trash—all health and lifestyle magazines. Scootaloo was pretty sure she didn’t need to learn a ‘new timesaving recipe for hay omelets’ or ‘one-hundred and one ways to knit a sweater for your hubby’. Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by a high pitched squeal of delight.
“Scootaloo!” She only had a split second to look up before being glomped onto by a yellow blob.
“Alula… Can’t breathe… Too tight,” Scootaloo wheezed. She drew in a deep breath as Alula loosened up.
Pushing the hug monster off, Scootaloo smoothed her mane back into place, rubbing her now sore neck. Talk about a blast from the past. She hadn’t seen Alula since graduation.
“I swear, you’re just as touchy-feely as your sister sometimes.”
Seriously, if Alula’s talent hadn’t been in track and field, Scootaloo swore her cutie mark would be a silhouette of a pony being hugged to death. Even back when they’d attended Cheerilee’s class, Alula had a reputation as a hug ninja. One minute you’d be minding your own business, the next, a cuddle assault out of nowhere.
Nopony was safe from the soft yet incredibly firm embrace of those creamy yellow hooves; not even a filly as feared as Diamond Tiara. Scootaloo remembered the obnoxious filly’s shrieks with a smile.
“Hey, don’t lump me in with Cloud Kicker,” Alula said, sounding a little embarrassed. “Sis is just… Umm… overly affectionate sometimes.”
Scootaloo chuckled and shook her head. Looked like Alula hadn’t changed much in personality or physically. The purple-maned pegasus had always been on the short side, but possessed the slim, athletic build of a track star.
“Anyway, it’s great to see you, Scoots. I don’t think we’ve talked since you, Apple Bloom, and Sweetie Belle left Ponyville. Alula frowned. “You could have written, you know!”
“Yeah, well, we all got a little busy, I guess.” Scootaloo patted her on the shoulder. “Still, it’s nice to see a familiar face around here. Hey, idea! We should totally team up. It’ll be just like our time on track.”
“Yeah, until I made captain and you quit.”
“Whoa, hold on.” Scootaloo held up her forehooves defensively. “You know that’s not why I quit. Track just wasn’t extreme enough for me that’s all. Not enough of a challenge, you know?”
Alula let out a deep sigh. “I told you a dozen times; we weren’t going to light the hurdles on fire. I don’t even want to talk about your exploding shot put idea. I don’t know how you got Apple Bloom to make one, but there was no way I was letting it on the field.”
“And that’s why track didn’t meet my daily requirement of awesome. Fire and explosions up the level of awesome by a factor of ten. Undisputed fact.”
“Uh huh… And the possibility of getting maimed is totally cool because Rainbow Dash said so, I bet?” Alula guessed, arching an eyebrow.
“Exactly! If it’s not dangerous, it’s not worth doing.” Her watertight case made, Scootaloo draped a foreleg around Alula’s shoulders. “We should still team up though. Imagine the two of us. The pride of Ponyville versus the best flyers Equestria has to offer. Aww yeah, they don’t stand a chance. They should just make us Wonderbolts right now.”
Alula giggled. “Actually, not just the two of us.”
The girliest scream Scootaloo had ever heard escaped from the inside the doctor’s office. She hadn’t heard a scream that high pitched since she and Apple Bloom had hidden a spider in Silver Spoon’s desk. Good times.
Both mares watched a light-grey cadet stumble out. Tears ran down his cheeks as he rubbed the patch bandage covering his right shoulder.
“Celestia below that smarts so bad!”
“Rumble?” Scootaloo simply stared as he looked up. As with Alula, some years had passed since Scootaloo had last seen Rumble. Aside from getting taller and gaining some muscle, the colt hadn’t changed much. Rumble’s swept back black mane and round filly-like face remained just as she remembered. Both features had made the shy colt very popular with the girls back when he was captain of the Ponyville’s hoofball team. She’d never seen him cry though.
Alula rolled her eyes. “Oh, suck it up, Rumble. Don’t be such a baby. It’s just a little needle.”
“A little needle?!” he cried, still sniffling. Scootaloo took a good look at his shoulder. That bandage did look pretty big for one needle. “Try five! Nopony told me I was going to get five shots at the same time!” His whining only earned him another eyeroll from Alula while a bead of sweat ran down Scootaloo’s neck.
Not that she was scared. No way. She was Scootaloo, the only filly badass enough to be hoofpicked by great Rainbow Dash to be her sister. Fear? Scootaloo didn’t even know how to spell the word let alone what it meant. In no way was she shivering or filled with the sudden urge to hightail it out the nearest window. Nope, not at all.
“Phff, it’s only a jet injector.” Alula waved a hoof dismissively. “They’re used all over the military. You don’t see me crying. It’s just a little prick.”
“Don’t listen to her, Scoots,” warned Rumble. “She’s used to it. Her entire family’s in the guard. They’re trained to handle pain better than us normal ponies.”
“Hey! I’m normal. I’m just not a wuss, like someponies I could name,” Alula said, pointing towards Rumble. He let out a snort of annoyance. “But I won’t because I’m so nice.”
“NEXT!”
Scootaloo gulped. Both Rumble and Alula wished her luck before leaving.
She stepped into the doctor’s office and the saw the multi-needled injector resting in its cradle. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the monstrosity as the doctor rubbed her shoulder with a swab of alcohol.
“Now hold still. You’ll feel a small pinch.”
—
Wonderbolt Academy, Cloudsdale
Airstrip
Rubbing the large white bandage on her shoulder, Scootaloo grumbled under her breath. “‘A little prick’, she said. Stupid shot. Stupid Alula.”
“I told you not to believe her,” Rumble said from her left. “My brother has a saying: never trust a mare who doesn’t cry when she breaks her leg.”
“Hello, I’m standing right here, ya know,” Alula called from the right. All three Ponyvillians stood on the main airstrip, watching the other cadets gather into a straight line. “It was just one time, and I only fell off a swing. No big deal.”
That wasn’t how Scootaloo remembered it. “Wait, didn’t Diamond Tiara push you so hard that the swing went over the top bar? I remember now, you fell and one of your front legs snapped. Eww… The bone was poking out of the skin and everything.” She turned little green. “So gross. Everypony was totally freaking out.”
“Meh, it hurt worse when they reset the bone.” Alula grinned. “They tied me down and gave me a bit to bite down on and everything. It was super hardcore,” she finished, sounding way too pleased with herself.
Scootaloo squinted at her friend like she was crazy. Sure, she’d experienced her share of injuries—mostly her or Dash’s fault—but never anything more serious than a broken wing that one time she’d jumped off her parent’s balcony. Dash had carried her to the hospital at what had felt like the speed of sound.
Scootaloo recalled laying in the wheeled cot as Rainbow raged at her nonstop for over an hour about the utter reckless stupidity of flying unsupervised. Dash had gone so far as to threaten to have Twilight cast a tracer spell on Scootaloo so she would know where the filly was at all times.
Scootaloo had always considered it kinda hypocritical. Especially since she’d only been imitating Dash in the first place. Though, now that she thought about it, Rainbow Dash had toned down her own level of risk-taking after Scootaloo had been discharged from the hospital.
Rumble’s whispers pulled Scootaloo out of her thoughts. “Hey, check it out. Are you guys seeing what I’m seeing?” He pointed down the runway.
Following the direction of his hoof, they spied an ash-grey mare with a long violet mane taking a spot at the end of the line. Scootaloo didn’t see a problem. The pegasus looked about the same as all the other cadets. “Am I missing something?”
“Look closer. Check out her wings,” Alula explained. Scootaloo’s gave the cadet’s wings another onceover. What stopped her, her eyes widening, were a pair of leathery, purple wings tucked at the mare’s sides.
Scootaloo let out a whistle. “Wow, batpony, huh? Don’t see too many of those around. Not even in Manehattan.”
“Actually, they’re technically called thestrals,” murmured Rumble. “Batpony is just slang. We should probably stay away from her. Batponies freak me out,” he whispered with a shudder.
Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. Rumble’s attitude surprised her, quite frankly. He was the last pony she expected to harbor tribalist feelings of any sort.
“Aww, is Rumble-Wumble scared of the little batpony? Alula teased with a devious little grin. “‘Fraid she’ll sneak into your room one night and suck your blood?” She chuckled and stepped closer to the colt. “I bet your blood tastes delicious, Rumble. Sweet and innocent. Yes, I can just imagine it. You, tucked nice and cozy in your bed, fast asleep.”
Rumble scurried behind Scootaloo’s taller frame as Alula kept advancing. “Slowly a shadow creeps closer. Closer... then… Chomp! Rumble’s drained faster than a chocolate milkshake at Sugarcube Corner on Free Shake Day!”
“Stop it, Alula,” Scootaloo said. “You’re scaring him. Not cool.”
“N-no she’s not. I’m fine. Haha…” Rumble said from his hiding place behind the orange pegasus. Alula continued to giggle.
Taking pity on him, Scootaloo turned to pat Rumble on shoulder. “Don’t listen to her, Rumble. Alula just likes messing you.”
“Yes I do,” Alula said cheerfully.
“And besides, I’m pretty sure those fangs are for eating fruit. Remember the fruit bats back at Sweet Apple Acres? They had fangs too.”
“Bet they didn’t have talons,” said Alula, directing both their attentions to the opposite side of the field. They watched a griffon coast in for a smooth landing.
Living in Manehattan, one of Equestria's most cosmopolitan cities, Scootaloo had the opportunity to meet quite a few griffons. They were all positively puny compared to the specimen stepping into line with the other cadets.
The griffon’s wingspan dwarfed any of the pegasi on the field and the decision to dye the tips a vibrant shade of pink also helped make her (It was definitely a “her”, Scootaloo noted, as most male griffons wouldn't go anywhere near that color) stand out from the other griffons Scootaloo had encountered.
“So majestic…” Rumble whispered. Alula picked up on his glazed look immediately and pounced.
“Careful there, loverboy. Her beak looks pretty sharp. You might cut your face going in for a kiss.”
“It’d be totally worth it,” Scootaloo heard him mutter.
She shook her head and smiled at the dreamy look on his face. Good luck to him. If Rumble wanted to be distracted chasing griffon tail, it just meant less competition for her. Not that she wasn’t a shoe-in for a spot on the team already.
Come to think of it, batpony and griffon aside, she hadn’t seen any flyers who looked like much of challenge so far. Most of the cadets were mingling with each other with the single visible exception of a barrel chested stallion who, Scootaloo was pretty sure, hadn’t uttered a single hello since arriving. He stood ramrod straight, staring into the distance like a statue.
Noticing where Scootaloo was looking, “Royal guard transfer, if I had to bet. Yup, definitely the right build,” Alula said. “See the huge the muscles around his legs and barrel? Comes from wearing heavy plate armor all day. He’ll be pretty strong, but don’t count on him winning any races.”
Scootaloo and Rumble nodded in agreement. The stallion looked ripped straight from a Royal guard recruitment poster—pristine alabaster coat and a razor-straight, blonde haircut kept short and tapered.
“Atten-shun! Captain on the field! Line up for roll call!” Lightning Dust announced as she and Cloud Kicker landed. “Move move move!”
The recruits scrambled into something resembling a straight line. Scootaloo struggled to remain stoic as her inner fanfilly jumped up and down as Rainbow Dash glided in. The Captain of the Wonderbolts didn’t even kick up a speck of dust on touchdown; her flying was just that polished.
Dressed in crisp officer’s blues complemented by a pair of thick aviator sunglasses, Rainbow Dash looked every bit an officer and a gentlemare. Exuding a no-nonsense air of command, she marched down the ranks, sizing up each cadet one by one. Rumble became her first victim, the poor colt almost sunk to the ground underneath her terrifying glare. Scootaloo keep her eyes front as Dash walked by.
“The Princesses aren’t here to take care of you anymore,” the Captain barked. “While you’re here at Wonderbolt Academy, I’m your mom, your dad, and your goddess. My name is Captain Rainbow Dash. You’ll address me as Captain or ma’am. Some of you have probably heard of me. Maybe I signed an autograph or posed for a snapshot with you after a show.
“Well, my advice is to chuck those memories right off the feathering cliff! From now on you’re no longer fans. You’re balls of clay Celestia placed in my hooves to mold and shape as I see fit. When I say fly, you fly. When I say eat, you eat. When I say take a dump, I don’t care if you're standing in front of your damn mother, you take a Celestia damned dump! Do I make myself clear?!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Now I’ll bet the first thing you thought when you read that acceptance letter was, ‘Hey, they must think I’m pretty hot stuff. I’m ready to be a Wonderbolt right now’. Are you ready to be Wonderbolts, cadets?”
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”
Rainbow Dash removed her sunglasses and stopped to look up and down the line then turned to her her subordinate. “What do you think, Lieutenant Dust? See anypony you think will make it?”
“No, ma’am, not a one.” Dust replied sternly. “We must’ve done something to piss off one of the princesses real bad to be saddled with this sorry flock.”
“What about you, Cloud Kicker?”
Cloud Kicker shook her head. “We may as well send ’em all home, Captain. Nothing but a bunch of no-talent wannabes if you ask me.”
Dash turned back to her recruits with sneer. “You hear that? Two Wonderbolts, the best of the best, ponies I’d trust with my life, don’t believe any of you have what it takes. Are they right?”
“No, ma’am!” they all shouted back.
“You really think you’ve got what it takes to be Wonderbolts?”
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”
“Heh, we’ll see.”
And so it went. Scootaloo had seen enough military movies to catch onto the whole drill sergeant act Dash was putting on. Still, she copied Alula’s example. Her friend seemed to know how to properly stand at attention. With her family’s military background, Scootaloo guessed Alula had proper posture drilled into her since she could first stand on four legs.
After Dash wound down, she ordered Cloud Kicker to start rollcall.
“Alula.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Rumble.”
“H-here!”
“Scootaloo.”
“Present!”
“Straight Arrow.”
“PRESENT AND READY FOR DUTY, MA’AM!” The former Royal guard bellowed with such force, Cloud Kicker’s mane practically blew off her head.
After tapping her ears, she continued. “Genevieve Pinfeather.”
“Je suis là... I mean, present!” The griffon’s crystalline Prench accent was at complete odds with her size.
“Sweet Dreams.”
Nopony answered.
“Cadet Sweet Dreams,” Cloud Kicker repeated. Still getting no response, she frowned.
Along with the other cadets, Scootaloo leaned forward and watched all three officers march towards the single batpony in attendance.
Who was fast asleep.
Scowling, Rainbow Dash poked the snoring pony in the chest. When that didn’t get a response she slowly lifted the cadet’s ear, moved close and yelled, “WAKE UP!”
“Wahaha!” Startled out of her doze, Sweet Dreams’s wings flared out and she fell over.
“Enjoying your nap, Cadet?” Dash growled. Sweet Dreams shook her head rapidly. “What’s your name, Cadet?”
“S-Sweet Dreams, ma’am.”
“Not anymore, it’s not. Lighting Dust, is it nap time around here?”
“Only if we’re suddenly back in preschool, Captain.”
“How about you, Cloud Kicker? Is it nap time?”
“I’m not even tired, ma’am.”
Dash bore down on the poor batpony who sat quaking on the ground. “Guess what, Cadet? You’re the first of our merry band to earn a nickname. Congratulations, from now on, you’re Nap Time.” Her frown deepened. “Did ya just yawn while I was talking to you, Cadet?”
Sweet Dreams clamped her mouth shut. “S-sorry, ma’am. Not used to staying awake during the day, ma’am.”
“Get up, Cadet!” Dash snarled, narrowing her eyes. “On your hooves!” The shaky thestral moved to comply, but the Captain unexpectedly raised a hoof to stop her. “Ya know what? Since you’re down there already, wingups. NOW! Don’t stop till I’m tired!”
“Man, laying it on a bit thick there, aren’t you, Dash?”
Silence.
Scootaloo looked around, trying to spot who’d be dumb enough to speak out of turn. It took her a second to notice that Rumble and Alula had sidestepped away, just enough time for her view to be filled by a pair of vivid cerise eyes.
Blazing. Angry. Doom-filled eyes.
“You got something to add to the discussion, Cadet Scootaloo?” Dash asked in a low, stern tone which promised hours of kitchen duty if she got the wrong answer.
Scootaloo’s eyes darted back and forth, looking for support. Alula remained a statue while Rumble stared off in the opposite direction, apparently admiring a cloud drifting by.
“Looks like we’ve got an ace over here, ladies and gentlecolts.” Dash got right into Scootaloo’s personal space. “I bet you think you’re the best flyer in the academy, don’t you? You know what? I’d bet good money you’re the worst flyer here. Ponyfeathers, I doubt you’ll even make it past the first day. What do you say to that, Cadet?”
She was so close, Scootaloo could smell her breath—minty fresh with a hint of… wait, brandy?
Dash barking in her face should have put Scootaloo off, and for a moment it did. Rainbow’s own story about her first day at the academy flashed to the forefront of her mind. With it came a sudden surge of cockiness, and Scootaloo said the first thing to pop into her head.
“Try me, ma’am.”
Rainbow replaced her sunglasses. “What’s that?” she asked, low enough to come out as a threat. Staring into the tinted glass, Scootaloo examined her reflection. She’d watched Dash wear the same cocky expression enough times to hopefully pull off a decent impression—confidence edged with an unsaid challenge.
“Let me show you what I’ve got, ma’am.”
From behind those lenses, Scootaloo felt Dash staring her down. She kept her cool though and didn’t look away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lightning Dust raise an eyebrow, undoubtedly feeling a sense of déjà vu.
“So you want a chance to prove yourself, huh?” said Rainbow.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh really?” Rainbow put on a menacing grin. “Cloud Kicker, fetch the buckets!”
Following orders, Cloud Kicker quickly returned with a stack of empty buckets. She lined them up, one by one, along the landing strip. Scootaloo tried to keep cool as the other cadets muttered about what the buckets could be for.
She hadn’t expected Dash to break off script. The grim smile on her captain's face didn’t help matters. Goading her may not have been one of Scootaloo’s best ideas.
“All right, newbies, I want five hundred laps!” A collective groan came from the cadets, an especially pathetic one from Sweet Dreams.
“That wasn’t a request! Get up in the air. NOW!” A shrill blow from Dash’s whistle punctuated the command.
Five hundred laps, one hundred jumping jacks, fifty wind sprints, and Celestia knows how many wingups—she’d lost count after the first hundred—later found Scootaloo buried face-first in a bucket, puking her guts out.
The acrid stench of her own vomit invaded her nostrils without mercy. Based on the equally miserable retching noises coming from her neighbors, Rumble and Alula weren’t in better shape.
As the exercise progressed, each cadet had dropped out of the sky and paid tribute of that morning’s breakfast to the silent pantheon of buckets. The only one spared revisiting a meal was the griffon. Genevieve was last to finally burn out. Even still, she landed in surprisingly graceful manner, then simply passed out.
Stomach emptied, Scootaloo collapsed onto her back while her wings gave a brief twitch of exhaustion. A body, the shade of cyan blue, blocked her view of the sky. She’d developed a sudden hatred for that color.
“Laying down on the first day, Squirt? Tsk, tsk.” Scootaloo searched for even a hint of sympathy in Dash’s eyes only to come up empty. So much for sisterly love. “Can’t say I’m impressed, Scoots. On my first day I was out there breaking records, not puking up breakfast. Let this be a lesson. Here, I take backsass from nopony, even you. Remember that. Next time I won’t go so easy on you, Cadet Scootaloo.”
As Rainbow Dash march away, Scootaloo came to a sudden epiphany. This must be what recruits the world over felt towards their drill instructors. Pure unadulterated hatred laced with a perverse and almost self destructive desire for their respect. Scootaloo groaned as she rolled back onto her hooves, ignoring her stomach’s violent protests at getting up so fast.
Dash wasn’t impressed? She wanted records broken? Well fine! Scootaloo would show her ‘big sis’ she hadn’t been idle since they’d last trained together. Flying through Manehatten alleyways at high speed while dodging dumpsters and fire escapes had taught Scootaloo a few tricks, ones bound to impress even a seasoned flyer like Rainbow Dash.
“Tomorrow, Dash. Tomorrow, I’ll show you what I’ve got.”
“INCOMING!”
Scootaloo barely had time to dive out of the way as a noisy cloud wagon suddenly came in for a landing from out of nowhere. Despite the ridiculous speed of its approach, the wagon miraculously remained intact as it bounced to a stop.
The white, blond pegasus pulling it flipped out of her harness with ease and smacked a large button. The wagon's cover unfolded to reveal a carnival music box lined with all sorts of trumpet horns, cymbals and bass drums, colorful flags, and a lot of fun little gizmos and doo-dads that whizzed, bobbed, and popped to the beat.
“Welcome welcome welcome,
it’s your first day here.
Welcome welcome welcome,
follow me in a great cheer!
Welcome welcome welcome,
Hip hip hurray, repeat after me.
Welcome welcome welcome,
to the Wonderbolt Aca-de-my~!”
Stunned silence reigned...for about two seconds.
“Wait for it…”
A ding signaled from a side compartment. A miniature oven opened up and shot a freshly baked cloud cupcake in front of each pony while a steady stream of confetti erupted from the organ pipes.
“Yippee! I didn't mix them up this time!”
Scootaloo’s stomach churned as she looked from cake laying at her hooves then back to the bucket filled with the remains of her breakfast.
Her stomach chose the bucket. As she heaved, Scootaloo heard the mare’s muffled complaints.
“Nopony’s eating my cakes…!”
—