Dash was more than relieved to finally get out of the interview pit, as the flyers affectionately named it. Ratchett had commented one of the flyers he had previously provided analysis form had likened it to spending ten minutes in Tartarus with all the grasping arms trying to feed you microphones and after that experience, she agreed.
It felt like most of the interviewers were accusing her of helping Ekstrom win, which certainly wasn’t true. Why exactly she, a proud Cloudsdale Pegasus, would impede a fellow Cloudsdale Pegasus to allow a Fillydelphian rival to win didn’t seem to matter and she wasn’t far off telling them where to stick it before someone mercifully changed the subject and asked her how she felt after improving considerably from her qualifying warm up woes.
Ratchett, who was shadowing her and trying to lead her towards ponies asking for interviews, eventually made excuses for the pair to leave. Mercedes seemed to have been excused as well as the pair exited the pen together.
“Hello Rainbow.” Mercedes smiled as she walked with the younger mare. “Congratulations on finishing your first race.”
“Thanks.” Dash replied, surprised Mercedes would be walking with her. “I kinda screwed up the end, though.” Dash also admitted.
“I did see the replay. Perhaps you could have moved over sooner, but you still did as you were meant to. You at least did better than I did in my first race.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I crashed into Aperto Snr when he was lapping me in the Sunrise Hairpin. He wasn’t far off ripping my head off.” Mercedes chuckled. Dash found herself smiling at the thought.
As they passed Mercedes’ stable, she congratulated Dash again and asked her to pass on her congratulations to her team mates as well before going inside.
“So what now?” Dash asked Ratchett, wanting to make sure she was defiantly aware what was next as they continued towards their own stable.
“Debriefing with Fleet.” He informed her. “She’s been keeping plenty of notes on all our performances so far.”
“Right.” Dash mused as they entered their stable.
They found their team mates and their spotters ahead already returned and were busy going over times and replays.
Concorde seemed to be analysing every lap time in depth while Lightning Dust was watching some of Concorde’s helmet footage and almost demanding answers from Spanner.
“How can he go through there that fast?” She asked him hotly, indicating to the screen like it showed something outlandish.
“He doesn’t spread his wings out as far as you do so he’s generating less drag.” Spanner stated matter-of-factly, making a note on his clip board.
Fleetfoot, meanwhile, was having a quick check over her clipboard before noticing Dash and Ratchett.
“Dash, Ratchett, can I see you both in here, please?” She asked, indicating to a door that led to what had been used as a changing and storage room by the team.
Dash’s slightly annoyed mood from her time in the interview pit was thrown from her mind, panic taking its place. Fleet wanted to see her in private after her first race? Was she going to kick her out of the team already?
While Maffett and Spanner exchanged looks, Concorde and Lightning Dust continued doing what they were doing as Dash and Ratchett made their way over to the side room.
Inside, Fleet had set up a table using a few crates with chairs that had previously been around the table in the main stable. A spotlight they had found in this side room was set up and filling the whole space with bright light.
Dash and Ratchett sat down opposite Fleet as she organised her clipboard, quickly pushing a few stray hairs out of her face. Had her performance over the weekend been so bad? It took her a while to get back up to speed after her practice crash and the last corner incident with the leaders wasn’t great, but would it cost her her position in the team as well as her chance to join the Wonderbolts? It felt like she had been jumped out of the frying pan of an adrenaline packed race and thrown in the fire of a job interview, which filled her with more dread.
“Right Rainbow.” Fleet mused as she moved the right sheet of notes to the top of her clip board. “You can wipe that worried look off your face, this is just a debrief of your performance this weekend.”
“Can I ask something before we start?” Ratchett asked, looking a bit confused. “Why are you debriefing us separately?”
“I thought it would be better and let us keep on topic somewhat. Concorde would likely derail the meeting quite quickly.”
“I doubt it. You’ve seen him evaluating all his times, he’d want to discuss his performance more maturely then he normally does.”
“Doing this separately would enable each flyer to focus fully on themselves, rather than worry about what the others were doing. Anyway, Rainbow; that wasn’t bad for a first race, more successful than some of the field in their respective first races, but I want to hear how you felt about it, starting with practice.”
Dash thought as Fleet focused her attention on her. She was so slow in practice, everyone else was making her look like she was just hovering in place.
“Well, I, er, wanted to take time to get used to the track.” She offered, unsure what to say.
“Good.” Fleet nodded. “Being your first time on track here, you needed the time. I have to admit, I didn’t expect you to improve so much in second practice.”
Dash quietly swallowed, knowing her crash was going to come up.
“I am slightly disappointed you backed off so much during warm up and qualifying after your crash in practice two.”
Boom, there it was. Dash tried to keep a straight face as worry spread its icy fingers through her mind. A comment like that would go on record and could be a horrible sticking point when Spitfire considered who to let into the Wonderbolts.
“When the chips were down, though,” Ratchett chipped in. “Dash improved dramatically. I see what you’re saying Fleet, but that can’t be forgotten.”
“I was about to get onto that, Ratchett.” Fleet replied, going to her next page of notes. “Excluding most of your times, you behaved perfectly in qualifying, you followed Ratchett’s instructions to get off line punctually and didn’t cause a problem.
“As for your race, you started pretty well, gaining a couple places on the run down to the Sunrise Hairpin before Nicki Hest pulled his dopey move on you.”
“I was focused on passing Red Rum, I didn’t know he was there.” Dash added, feeling she had to offer something.
“As you should have been. Nicki was about three lengths behind and probably went into that move both desperate and angry.” Ratchett said, playing with his moustache.
“Your recovery from there was good.” Fleet continued. “You caught and passed both Riggwelter and Lotus Stream in good time, improving your flying along the way which is also very good.
“You were a bit too overeager to catch Lightning Dust, many younger racers would have exhausted themselves in a chase like that, but it seems your own training paid off.
“You were pushing the edges of the track a bit too much and the officials did get onto Ratchett about that.
“Speaking of which, you relayed all the necessary information reliably, Ratchett.” Fleet added, turning to the moustached unicorn.
“Yeah, you did great.” Dash thought she’d add. Ratchett really had been an asset all weekend, keeping her head at least reasonably focused and clear.
“Thanks.” He smiled. “I’ll keep it up for the whole season.”
“I’m sure you can.” Dash said again. Ratchett had only acted as a spotter on a few occasions in the past and this was going to be his first full season in the role.
“Back to you though, Dash. The only blemish in the race was the incident on the last corner of the race with the leaders.” Fleet finally got to, which made Dash tense up with nerves.
“I’ll take responsibility for that.” Ratchett chipped in, to Dash’s surprise. “I told her to wait.”
“Yes, I reviewed the radio log for that. Still Dash, you should have put yourself well out of the way, ideally right around the outside of the track. The stewards aren’t investigating it, but I don’t think they were far off considering doing so.
“Anyway, you not only finished the race but you also demonstrated some improvement over the course of the meeting. You even had two good, fair battles with Lotus Stream and Riggwelter where you made no major mistakes, so that’s a plus.
“Going forward Dash, I want you to do the following: If you have a crash, I want you to re-watch your camera footage and consider why you crashed more thoughtfully. If you let your worries get the best of you as you did in warm up and qualifying, you will only lose time.
“Baltimare will be a different story to here as the track won’t be as wide and won’t feature many run off areas, so you’ll have to limit mistakes as much as possible. How are you with flying in tight confines?”
A small smile flashed across Dash’s face. Having previously looked at a few pictures of the Baltimare track, she realised what it had some similarities to, minus some of its major living dangers.
“I used to fly up and down the Ghastly Gorge to practice. Tight confines won’t be a problem.” She grinned. Fleet arched an eyebrow while Ratchett looked at Dash as if she was mad.
“Then Baltimare may be good for you. We’ll talk more about the place when we get back to Ponyville, but for now you can go. Well done again, Dash.” Fleet smiled, jotting a couple more notes as Dash and Ratchett got up and left.
“Well, that was different.” Ratchett commented once out of Fleet’s earshot.
“How do you mean?” Dash asked.
“Post-race debriefings are usually done as a team. I don’t know what Fleet is aiming to do by doing them separately, because the more you can learn off each other, the better.”
“Is that what you were up to?” Maffett asked, Concorde still engrossed in his times.
“She didn’t tell you either?”
“Nope. Did she say who she wants to see next?”
“Concorde, Maffett! In here, please.” Fleet suddenly called across the stable, throwing a scrunched up piece of paper at Concorde to get his attention.
“Huh? What are you doing in the cupboard?” He asked now he’d looked up.
“Just get in here.”
“Fleet, me dear, surely there are more private places to do such things.” He replied mockingly as he walked over.
“Get in here.”
“Want me to get the light and lock the doo-wah!” He said as he poked his head around the door before getting suddenly pulled in. Maffett just laughed as she went in as well and closed the door.
***
Later that evening, after the team had returned to Ponyville, Lightning Dust lay on the floor of her bedroom as she lifted one of her heavier barbells with her wings while also watching Concorde’s rear facing camera footage.
Her room wasn’t a work of art. Most of her stuff was randomly scattered across the floor because that was where it ended up, many items still in the boxes they had been in when the team moved into the house. Cleanliness and feng shway were hardly concerns to her, though.
She had to figure out what he was doing to be so much faster than she was. She’d pushed hard all race and come away in a lowly, pathetic sixteenth, yet Concorde seemed to be making his seventh place finish look effortless in comparison.
She’d listened to him on the airship ride back discussing Fleet’s feedback with Maffett and Spanner, which was apparently flawless. He seemed to think such praise was meaningless and as soon as they’d gotten home he had put on the full TV coverage of the race so he could watch what as many other racers were doing as possible.
Fleet didn’t have much praise for Dust’s race, berating her for what was apparently over aggressive flying. Those she was passing should have known she was quicker and given her room to get by, but no. They’d weave, block and even turn across in front of her at every opportunity, which had resulted in her colliding with Skyline.
Spanner had given his view as well, which didn’t help. He’d been bleating in her ear for the whole race, encouraging her to take her time, time she didn’t have when a place in the Wonderbolts was at stake.
Still, she’d beaten Rainbow Dash, which was a start. Racing was going to be much tougher then she had initially thought now she’d completed a whole race. She had to start scoring points as those race wins she thought she’d easily get looked to be so far out of her grasp. If she could work out Concorde’s flying style, she would surely be fast enough to get into the points paying top ten positions and then she could go for those wins.