05: Rainbow Dash
“I’m gonna kick your ass in ten seconds FLAT!”
There’s always been one thing about flying through the air on a motorcycle, and that is that it’s every young man’s dream.
Travis Touchdown lived that dream as the Schpeltiger roared across the sky. He looked down, getting a beautiful view of Equestria: from up here, he could see several of the cities whose pony-pun names he couldn’t remember, the forests, the deserts, the badlands… and waaaaaay down there, Ponyville.
“Eyes on the road,” Thunder Ryu said sternly.
“What road?” Travis asked impatiently. “We’re in the fucking sky!”
“No, I mean, look ahead.”
Travis looked from the spirit of his mentor that floated beside him, to straight ahead. In the distance came dots of varying colors. As they grew closer, they were revealed to be several of those flying ponies—pegasuses?—wearing some kind of goofy blue tights.
“We got company,” Thunder Ryu said in a way he hoped wasn’t obvious. “The Wonderbolts are some of the best flyers in Equestria. Your next target’s been training her whole life to become one, and last I checked, she’s in their ranks and rising pretty quick.”
Travis counted the pegasuseses—they numbered somewhere between a small army and too many. He nodded nonchalantly and drew the Peony, its dark-red beam extending a good ten feet to his right. Thunder Ryu flinched as it flicked out of its handle like a long red tongue. “Sheez!” he said. “Watch where you point that thing, kid!”
“What are you worried about?” Travis asked. “You’re already dead.”
“Being a ghost may lend me some privileges,” Thunder Ryu said with a snarl, “but that don’t mean I can’t be cut by hard light. Remember how you took out that one fat fuck in the cemetery?”
Travis thought about it for a moment. He was never one to question the machinations of a beam-saber, nor was he one to question how said beam-sabers could harm something on the spiritual plain. He always considered it coincidence—no, scratch that, his balls were so fucking awesome it powered his beam-saber to their ghost-bustin’ max!
Thunder Ryu rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t hurt yourself. Just keep it in mind once you find yourself up against another ghost. For right now, you might want to get ready—here they come!”
The Wonderbolts zeroed in on Travis, coming forth like a tidal wave. He looked to the Peony contemplatively, then put it away.
“What are you doing?!” Thunder Ryu yelled.
“Don’t worry; I got this,” Travis said with a cocky smile. “I’ve played enough Starfox 64 to know what I’m doing here.”
Thunder Ryu rolled his eyes.
Then the Schpeltiger began firing laser beams. Out of the wheels.
“You put motherfuckin’ laser beams on your motorcycle?!” Thunder Ryu cried incredulously.
Travis grinned as he gunned down the first wave of Wonderbolts. “Well hey, I thought since I could make it fly, why not throw in lasers?”
He drove the Schpeltiger through the sky, the red tongues of laser beams flicking as they bit through each Wonderbolt. Travis raised an eyebrow as he noticed one Wonderbolt fell on a cloud… and lay there. The cloud beneath him went from white to pink to red as it absorbed the Wonderbolt’s lost blood.
“These pegasus fucks can walk on clouds?” Travis asked.
Thunder Ryu looked about cautiously before speaking. “Yeah, and that’s not all—uh, bogey on your six.”
With a nonchalant movement, Travis drew the Peony and turned to look behind himself. A lean, seafoam-white pegasus had sneaked up behind him and had reared his foreleg up for a punch to the back of Travis’ head. With a twitch of his hand, Travis decapitated the pegasus, his mop of ocean-green mane waving like a flag as the head fell from his shoulders. As blood erupted from the neck, the body twitched, then chased the head to the ground far below.
“Fucking rude,” Travis said as he sheathed the Peony and returned to blowing pegasuses out of the sky. “It’s like he can’t see we’re talking or something.”
Thunder Ryu chuckled. “Some ponies, huh?” He returned to his lecture. “These pegasi are capable of controlling the weather to some degree—watch out! Dive!”
The Schpeltiger’s roar dulled as Travis suddenly lowered his altitude, dodging yet another pegasus—this one quite a bit bigger than the one before, but whose pelt was almost as white—who’d sneaked up from behind him. The pegasus barreled, then yelled as he dove after Travis. Tired of these fucking ponies interrupting his conversation, he once again drew the Peony and growled as the pegasus came down on him. Another single effortless swing. There was a split second—one in which Travis saw the look of rage in a pair of otherwise friendly, almost brotherly eyes. But the red-maned pegasus they belonged to fell out of the sky, his body cut in half, his blood painting a blush on the clouds around him.
“‘Pegasi’?” Travis asked as he put the Peony away.
“Plural of pegasus,” Thunder Ryu explained.
“Oh.” Another group of incoming Wonderbolts. Another barrage of laser beams. Feathers fell. Showers of blood sprinkled through the air, staining more clouds red. Travis cocked his head to Thunder Ryu. “So I guess this means my next target also has this weather-power-thingy?”
Thunder Ryu nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “and even among her peers, she’s something of a weather wizard.” He fell silent suddenly.
After shooting down some more pegasuses—excuse me, pegasi—Travis noticed Thunder Ryu’s silence. “Something wrong?”
Thunder Ryu shook his head. “Uh… well, all right, ya got me. She—Rainbow Dash—and me, we go way back.”
Travis rolled his eyes. Whatever Thunder Ryu did with a pony was something he didn’t care to hear right now. “I’m sure you do,” he said quickly as he shot down another pegasus.
Thunder Ryu nodded. “Yeah. We do. Sorry to get so sentimental.” His eyes widened. He pointed his finger outward. “Do a b—”
Travis reached out the Peony again. “Finish that sentence and I hurt you!”
Thunder Ryu threw up his hands defensively. “No, I mean it! Do a fucking barrel roll!” He pointed ahead.
Not even a hundred feet from Travis was another Wonderbolt—this one different from the rest. Her uniform was even different, looking less like the cadets she flew with and more like a spandex-wearing superhero. Her eyes were hidden under a set of goggles, but Travis could still feel an anger that burned behind the lenses. The moment she shot for him, her red mane and tail billowing behind her like a trail of fire, Travis yelped and… well, okay, fine, he did a barrel roll. Grumble, grumble…
In the defense of that tired meme, Travis was able to dodge what might have been a killing blow. He tried turning the Schpeltiger around to chase after her, but she was as fast as a screaming comet and was soon out of his sights. Travis scanned the sky for his firesome foe, finally catching her spinning through a number of clouds, their white fluffiness becoming darker and darker.
Travis had a bad feeling about this. He began shooting at the clouds that the fiery Wonderbolt was shaping—since violence solves any problem (scientific fact; don’t argue!)—but much to his surprise, it didn’t work. The lasers were absorbed as the clouds became denser and darker.
“Hey,” said Thunder Ryu suddenly. “I just noticed somethin’.”
Travis gritted his teeth and flew around the sludgy mass of cloud, attempting to look for the pegasus who’d gotten away. “What?”
“All the other pegasi just flew away.”
Travis looked at Thunder Ryu strangely for a second—and then a lightbulb came on in his head. “Oh, shit!” he shouted. With a jerk, Travis attempted to turn the Schpeltiger around to get as far from the black cloud as he could.
Up above, the Wonderbolt had finished her work. She looked down as Travis was turning around. She sneered. “Never turn your back to an enemy, freak!” With that, she gave her creation a good kick.
The dark mass of clouds shot several lightning bolts, miles-long tentacles of electricity that reached out faster than a blink. Many struck the ground far below while others chased after Travis, striking him with bullet-like force. If Travis screamed, he couldn’t hear it over the sound of the electricity snaking its way throughout his body.
His sight grew hazy. Thunder Ryu cried out, but whatever he said came up from the depths of the ocean: distorted and a million miles away. Travis slumped over in his seat, and a sensation like falling overcame him.
The Wonderbolt sat on her monstrous cloud, watching from afar. She cheered when she saw the lightning bolt cut through the fucker on the motorcycle. She began laughing as his motorcycle began veering out of control. Served the son of a bitch right for invading their airspace and killing her cadets!
Her eyes widened as the motorcycle suddenly hitched upwards, as if being pulled up by invisible strings. It danced clumsily, bumbling across the sky as if its rider had gone bonkers. She watched in complete disbelief as Travis shot and spiraled and hooked and jawed straight for the Wonderbolts Academy, crashing through the main hall’s window.
She sat there, staring stupidly for close to ten seconds. Then she slammed her hoof on the cloud. “Fuck!” she spat. Beneath her, one last tiny strand of lightning was coughed out of the cloud. She cleaned up her own mess, taking apart the dense cloud before accidents could happen. Then she shot for the Academy.
From above, she could see into the Academy. Her eyes widened when she saw the motorcycle… but no driver. Cautiously, she descended. Upon landing, she looked about and received a shock.
Bodies of other Wonderbolts littered the halls. Blood smeared against the walls, body parts hanging limply over upturned chairs and desks. How had he managed to do all this in the short three minutes it took for her to get here?
She followed this wake of destruction, the tension in her spine growing every second. From ahead, she heard a cry. She picked up her pace and followed it, through halls and turns, and into a nearby room—dodging at the last second a body that had been thrown at her, smashing into the wall instead.
There, standing amongst her fallen comrades, was Lightning Dust. Her mint-green coat was covered in blood, her gold mane a mess. “Spitfire!” she cried. Good fucking grief, her voice mewled like a hurt kitten.
Spitfire looked to the body that had been thrown at her. It was Travis. He’d been knocked into the wall and sat there, unconscious. She looked him over a second, then turned to Lightning Dust, who’d drawn near. “How’d he manage to do all this? He was only here for three minutes!”
Travis mumbled something: "Stuh... way..."
Spitfire gave him another kick. Travis clutched his stomach and rolled onto his side. As Spitfire turned to Lightning Dust again, she didn’t notice Travis reaching for his Tsubaki.
“Cadet, report! How did—”
“I’m sorry,” Lightning Dust said suddenly.
“This isn’t your fault, cadet,” Spitfire said assuredly. “You couldn’t have known he’d—”
Spitfire fell silent as she felt the air escape her. She looked down and saw the knife Lightning Dust had shoved through her chest. She looked up to Lightning Dust’s eyes—gold, rimmed with madness, an impish smile dancing from behind dark soullessness.
For a second, her eyes glowed a sickly green. Then the impish smile left. Lightning’s lips trembled as tears trickled down her face. “I’m sorry,” she said once more.
Spitfire fell down, dead.
“I tried to warn you,” Travis gasped as he clutched the Tsubaki. “Goddammit, I tried to warn you!”
Travis expected Lightning to shank him next, but much to his surprise she lifted Spitfire back up from where she fell, and held her the way a frightened child would hang onto his mother. He witnessed, in horror, as Lightning Dust pressed her head against Spitfire’s—Spitfire’s face a frozen state of shock. She pressed her lips against that fiery mane and blubbered like an infant.
At a loss for what else he could do, and too terrified of what he was seeing to do much else, Travis sheathed the Tsubaki and walked carefully around Lightning Dust and the bodies she’d cut open. He was at the door on the other side of the room when he realized he hadn’t drawn a breath since Spitfire’s shocking end.
He opened the door and walked through. The hallway here, while still lathered with blood and bodies, was noticeably lacking in psychotic killers—a fact Travis was thankful for. To his right was a restroom. Time to save.
Travis drew a breath as he entered the nearest stall, shaking his head. “These ponies,” he said quietly as he sat down to save. “These ponies are fucked up.”