Decoy
“I’m not ready for this… not ready at all.”
Octavia Melody bustled about her apartment room, throwing folders of sheet music here and there as she frantically dug through her traveling bag. The grey Earth Pony mare was feeling more jittery than she’d ever felt before. Today was her big chance, and if she couldn’t find a simple bow tie…
“Tavi?”
A white Unicorn with a blue mane and tail entered the room, looking perplexedly at Octavia. The grey mare whirled around in response with an almost psychotic twitch in her eye.
“What is it, Vinyl?!”
“Um… it’s just a concert. No need to-“ Vinyl stopped when she noticed Octavia’s unamused expression. “Hey, it’s cool. Never mind. By the way, are you looking for this?” Vinyl levitated a white and purple bowtie over to her friend. Octavia simply stared at it in disbelief.
“Thank you so much, Vinyl,” she said at last, “I just couldn’t bear thinking of…” she let her sentence fade out as she collapsed onto the small bed in her room. “Thank you, Vinyl,” she said after her breathing slowed down, “I have no idea how you put up with me like this, but I really do appreciate it.”
Octavia was a musician, plain and simple, though for her to speak of her profession, one would quickly discover that there was nothing plain and simple about her at all. She was more than just a cellist. When she played, the music from her instrument was sweeter than a siren’s call, and to top it off, she wasn’t simply a cellist, either. Octavia could play just about any instrument invented. She’d discovered this talent during her early childhood years- a time that she scarcely tried to remember. Her parents, while kind enough, had done their best to convince her that music was simply not a useful interest. “Nopony ever made a living off of playing a concert every month,” her father had liked to remind her. Octavia usually countered this by pointing out that there was a lot more to music than just playing at concerts, but she was often dismissed. By the time she was nineteen, the arguments became unbearable, and often explosive. Finally, fed up with the direction her parents wanted her to go, Octavia left her home and headed for Canterlot, where she auditioned for, and was accepted to, the Royal Concert Orchestra. From there, she pursued musical studies at the Canterlot Institute of Fine Arts. While there, she met Vinyl, a freelance DJ. The two became close friends and split an apartment after a few months. Now, here she was- a twenty-two year old mare with four music degrees and an internship with the Manehattan Philharmonic Orchestra, and today, that internship was hitting its high point- she would play alongside several of the Philharmonic’s best musicians for some of Manehattan’s dignitaries. What made this occasion even more amazing was the fact that the concert would take place on an airship circling Manehattan. It’d be hard to focus with such an impressive view, but that wasn’t what Octavia was worried about. Today was basically an audition, to see if she had what it took to play with the best under pressure. If Vinyl hadn’t come across her trademark bowtie when she had… she shuddered to think of what would’ve happened.
Vinyl pushed a tray with two coffee mugs on it into the room and sat down on the bed next to Octavia. She slid one mug towards her friend and started drinking her own.
“You’re up early,” she remarked, “you do realize that the concert’s over six hours away, right?”
“What do you mean?” Octavia said, “what time is it?”
Vinyl held up Octavia’s bedside clock, which read six o’clock.
“It’s a noon concert, and judging by the way you’ve been playing recently, there’s no reason you’re going to need six hours of practice and warm-up time.”
Octavia sighed, rubbing her bleary eyes with the blanket. “I can’t help it, Vinyl. This is a big deal- probably the most monumental event in my life.”
“More monumental than birth?” Vinyl asked, raising an eyebrow.
Octavia stared at Vinyl with a deadpan expression. “It’s six in the morning. Humor isn’t helping things much.”
“Ah, but that, my friend, is where you’re wrong,” Vinyl countered. “Just drink your coffee, Tavi. You’ve got a big day ahead, and I for one am looking forward to seeing it unfold.”
…
Nimbus had been standing in the lobby of the Windigo Squadron building since 0700. He frequently made it a point to be early to reporting times, and today was a special occasion. He was curious to see whether last night’s crazy mission would actually be executed. It almost made the forty-five awkward minutes of trying not to stare at the receptionist bearable. Almost.
At 0744 and thirty seconds, Storm Runner walked through the door, executing his usual routine of being on time… but just barely. Nimbus had stopped trying to convince him to do otherwise, and as long as he kept reporting in on time, there technically was no issue with his habit.
“You know what I just realized?” Storm said as he hung up his saddlebag, “this is the first time I’ve reported in before Cyclone Sprint. It seems like every time I come here he’s already arrived, and waiting to ambush me with the latest daily self-promotion. It’s kind of a nice change of pace.”
“You’re telling me,” Nimbus said, “it’s- room, tench-hut!”
Both Nimbus and Storm Runner snapped to attention as Colonel Cloudsplitter entered the lobby.
“At ease,” Cloudsplitter said, and the two immediately relaxed. Cloudsplitter definitely looked tired, but she was trying her best not to show it. Nimbus didn’t even want to consider how little sleep she’d probably managed to get the night before.
“So,” she said, yawning, “the mission to go after the Awakening and prevent them from discovering the secret of the mythical Site Echo…”
Nimbus and Storm Runner unconsciously leaned a bit closer, waiting with baited breath.
“…is not going to happen. General Spear Point sent me an-“ she grimaced “-awesome letter early this morning. He said, and I quote ‘the Royal Equestrian Air Force does not have the personnel, nor the funding to waste time chasing down fairy tales. Let the Awakening find out for themselves that the place doesn’t exist.’ While I still don’t agree one hundred percent with this, orders are orders. Sorry.” She sighed, rubbing her temples. “But, since you’re both here and looking sunny and chipper, I do have a few patrols that need doing.”
“Yes ma’am,” Nimbus said, his heart sinking. The mission wasn’t going to happen after all, then. He couldn’t say he was surprised, but that wasn’t to say he wasn’t disappointed. If the site was real, and the Awakening got to it first, Equestria’s armed forces would have a serious problem on their hooves, but that apparently paled to the potential to waste taxpayers’ bits. Oh well, he thought, Patrols aren’t so bad, I suppose.
He’d only been doing them for the past few weeks, after all.
…
The Sol- eight hundred feet of majestic airship housing only the finest of Equestria’s comforts, was commissioned and built two years prior to the return of Princess Luna. The craft was built in response to a city accomplishment competition. Manehattan’s entry was the Sol, and the airship took the competition by storm. With twin gas envelopes and polished oak and mahogany trim, the ship was the most majestic thing in the sky, rivaling even the famed airships of Canterlot. She was well-armed, too. As a dignitary vessel, she carried six cannons (tastefully concealed in the lower section of the gondola, of course) and mounts for crossbows along the center deck. This made her extremely adaptable. For example, the ship could be outfitted with full weapons to transport VIP’s, or have everything removed and decorated to show off the airship’s sleek lines. Its docking port was magnificent, too- the ship was anchored to Starswirl Tower- Equestria’s tallest building. Boarding it took considerable nerve, as all that separated the passengers from a dizzying, fifty story fall was an enclosed, wooden bridge. It was this bridge that Octavia now found herself on, suddenly starting to wonder if there were bigger things to worry about than simply messing up a few notes during her concert.
“Are you sure this is safe?” she asked as she nervously crossed the bridge one hoof at a time with Vinyl urging her on from behind.
“Totally,” Vinyl answered, “how many ponies have you seen plummet from this thing on a daily basis?”
“None,” Octavia admitted, forcing herself not to look down.
“Exactly,” Vinyl said, “so get going! You’re nearly halfway there already!”
Swallowing hard, Octavia set yet another trembling hoof down. Only a few feet left to go, now.
“You know,” she said, three-quarters of the way across now, “maybe I should just… I don’t know- call it off? There are other internships…”
“That’s the phobia talking,” Vinyl said, smirking, “where’s the inner musician in you that’d stop at nothing for this gig, huh? Release the beast already!”
Octavia stepped back, and suddenly her hoof collided with solid deck. She turned around, and her jaw dropped. She’d made it! Looking back at Vinyl, she gave a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Vinyl. I still have no idea what I’d do without you.”
Vinyl Scratch smiled back. “Don’t mention it- now go have some fun! I’ll see ya later!”
Octavia waved to her friend and trotted back onto the ship, getting as close to the middle of the gondola as possible. While this was more secure than a bridge, she still wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable with being this high above the ground.
“Deep breaths, Tavi,” she whispered to herself, “it’s scary, yes, but it’s not the scariest thing you’ve done in your life…” Her breathing began to slow and she took out her music as she waited for the others to show up. Nothing like a little music to distract oneself from a fear of heights, after all.
…
“Windigo One, comm check.”
Two thousand feet above the Manehattan skyline, Nimbus and Storm Runner were beginning their patrol. Personally, Nimbus didn’t mind running patrols. It gave him an excuse to be Windigo One or Two instead of somewhere lower down the chain. Storm Runner was a different story, though- patrols became routine long ago, and as a result, he was bored as usual.
“Two here,” Storm Runner replied, a few inches away from Nimbus’s wingtip, “I hear you loud and clear.”
“Check is good,” Nimbus replied, “Entering pattern for sector one.”
To the Royal Equestrian Air Force, Manehattan was divided into sectors, each of which merited a five to ten minute patrol. Sector one was the bay, usually the hotspot for illegal activity or Griffon intercepts, and as a result, this was the primary focus for Aviators. It was here that Nimbus and Storm Runner started their patrol, flying along in tight formation and scanning for any discrepancies below, always keeping an eye on their madar displays as well.
“Oh look,” Storm Runner said drily, “beachgoers. How threatening.”
“Come on,” said Nimbus, “it’s not that bad.” This was, of course a lie. Inside, Nimbus was positively fuming. While they ran patrols, the Awakening was probably already dispatching ponies to Site Echo, all because some general couldn’t be troubled to switch around a few missions.
“Alpha flight, this is Windigo Actual.”
Nimbus cocked his head up, suddenly paying attention. Colonel Cloudsplitter was on the other end of the radio. If she had contacted them directly, something big was up.
“This is Alpha, go ahead Actual.”
“Change of plans. Divert to sector three as soon as you can. I’ll brief you en route.”
Nimbus nodded to Storm Runner and rocked his wings, signaling an imminent turn. Then he banked smoothly to the left, leveling out headed straight towards the city. Sector three was Starswirl Tower, a rather fun sector to cover, and he didn’t mind the swap.
“ Windigo Alpha is inbound, Actual,” Nimbus replied.
“Good. Here’s the situation. We’ve got an airship loaded with VIPs departing from Starswirl Tower in five minutes. The airship was supposed to receive an escort from the 66th Aviator Unit, based just north of here. However, they were grounded. You two are going to pick up the slack. You can contact the airship, callsign Sol, at 119.75. They’ve already been briefed that you are replacing their escorts. Looks like a nice day, and I don’t expect you’ll have any problems. You two did well together on your last mission, so I’m expecting the same today. Look sharp, stay in contact, and please don’t let the VIPs, Celestia forbid, crash or something. You think I’m joking- I’m not. They did something similar last year, and the airship pilot left his post for some of the champagne they were serving onboard. When he finally took the wheel again, the airship was lodged in an apartment building tighter than a Manticore’s… well, you get the picture. Just do your task and set a shining example for Windigo.”
“Roger, Actual,” Nimbus replied, “I have a visual on the Sol. Switching active frequency to 119.75.”
“Good luck, Alpha.”
Nimbus switched his frequency over to the proper number, keeping an eye on the approaching airship. It was beautiful, to say the least. While they weren’t maneuverable, Nimbus felt that airships had a certain grace that was unique to them.
“Wow, look at that fat flying slug.”
Storm Runner, obviously, felt different.
“Do you want to contact them?” Nimbus said, sighing.
“Yeah, I’ve got this,” Storm Runner said. “Sol, this is Windigo Two. We have a visual on you and are inbound.”
“Roger, Windigo,” Sol’s captain replied quickly, “glad to have you with us. We’re casting off now- shouldn’t be in the air for more than an hour and a half. We really appreciate this, and we want to add that one of our dignitaries mentioned that drinks will be on him when you land, if you’re interested.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Cloudsplitter cut in over the airwaves.
“Thank you, but we’re on duty- we’ll pass,” Nimbus relayed to the airship.
“Fair enough. Steer clear, then, because we’re setting off.”
Nimbus watched the airship slowly pull away from the tower as he and Storm Runner fell into formation behind it. Securing lines fell away, and were immediately reeled back in by ponies on the rooftop, a job that Nimbus had to admit looked harder than anything he’d ever seen. Most of the ponies were flightless, and spent a good portion of their time looking over the ledge while pulling in their ropes. The height must have seemed dizzying to them; Nimbus couldn’t even fathom the rush such a view might give.
“Skydock cleared,” Sol’s captain said, “beginning preplanned course with escorts.”
Nimbus felt a rush of excitement at his words, nearly forgetting the disappointment that he and Storm Runner had faced when their proposed mission had been rejected. This was a real sortie, and these ponies actually relied on them. He felt important; he felt needed.
“Let’s give ‘em a show,” Storm Runner said suddenly, “we might not get another chance like this.”
“What?” Nimbus said, “I’m not sure we can-“
“Just this once,” Storm Runner pleaded.
Nimbus sighed. “One quick pass, one roll. That’s it.”
Storm Runner pumped his hoof triumphantly. “It’ll be fun, trust me.”
Nimbus and Storm Runner dashed forward, breaking into a slow, lazy roll as they pulled even with the Sol’s observation deck. They were met with a few cheers, and applause, which they acknowledged with a nod. Then they flared their wings and dropped back behind the airship. Nimbus smiled. Maybe they weren’t in harm’s way going after the Awakening, but he had to admit- that felt awesome.
“Windigo,” the Sol cut in again, “we’re tracking two incoming unknowns. They’re not squawking IFF codes, and they’re headed our way. Probably just some civilians, but we’d like you two to go check it out and see if you can lead them away. The sky looks clear otherwise.”
“Roger, Sol,” Nimbus said, bringing up his madar display and banking away from the ship, “we’re en route.”
“Sweet, a little action,” Storm Runner said, and Nimbus nodded in agreement. It was better than nothing.
…
On the deck, Octavia was setting up for the concert. She had, of course, found the time to wave at the Aviators as they passed, and appreciated that they were trying to liven up what she assumed was a boring escort mission. When they pulled away, she began to feel uneasy. Why had they suddenly left?
“Octavia, please try to stay focused,” the musician next to her said, “your eyes should be on the music, not the sky.”
Octavia snapped her attention back to the musician, realizing that she’d been following the Aviators.
“They just left,” she said, “why?”
The musician shrugged. “Not our problem. We have our job, they have theirs.”
Another movement caught Octavia’s eye, and she turned her head back to the city. Initially, she thought it might be a flock of birds, but as they approached, she wasn’t so sure.
“Octavia,” the musician said warningly, “please! I need your attention here.”
Octavia’s heart beat faster as she suddenly began to recognize what she was seeing. “You think those Aviators leaving isn’t our problem?” she said, pointing to the rapidly approaching cluster of Pegasi rising up from the city below, “then what do you call that?”
Then they hit.
…
As the two Aviators approached the madar hits, they soon found two rather confused Pegasi, as expected. They advised them to leave, vectoring them in a safe direction, and the Pegasi followed their directions, veering away.
“Well, that was cake,” Storm Runner said, “so much for exciteme-“
All at once, multiple madar hits appeared right below the Sol. Nimbus’s heart nearly stopped.
“My madar’s glitching,” he said, hoping he was correct, “are you seeing this?”
“If yours is, then so’s mine,” Storm Runner said. Nimbus turned his attention back in the direction of the ship. The two Pegasi they had just escorted away were now veering back towards the airship, but at this point, he hardly cared. Over fifteen Pegasi were rising up from the streets of Manehattan towards the Sol. In horror, Nimbus finally realized that he and Storm Runner had been tricked into leaving the Sol open for attack.
“Dear Celestia,” he breathed, pouring as much strength into his wings as possible as they rushed towards the ship, “we’ve been tricked.”