//------------------------------// // Chapter 07: Dust-Up // Story: Wild Sky Yonder // by Mysecsha //------------------------------// Chapter 7: Dust-Up         Four ponies paced around the infirmary’s cramped waiting room. Nervous glances took in the clock, the door, the windows, each other. There was no reassurance to be had. Red sat down and snorted.         “I hate this. Last time I was in a hospital waiting room, my mama’d collapsed on the job.” She looked around. “I’m almost glad they’re so shorthooved here. Nothing worse than a room full of doctors and nurses, and nopony who’ll give you the time of day.”         Wedge sat down next to her and put a wing around her withers. “Last time I was here, T-Bone was the one pacing around like a nervous lunatic. Little Dee was on the way. Remember, Soarin’? He was a wreck!”         Soarin’ wrapped his wing around Spitfire and guided her over to the other two. “I sure do and he sure was. But you’re wrong. The last time we were here, Seven was the one on the wrong side of the door, and we were all pacing around worried about her.”         As they reached Wedge and Red, Spitfire put a wing around Red and the brothers completed the circle. Spitfire gave her wingman a little nudge. “None more than you, big guy. Doc Firelight said you were so intent on sticking with me you had to be ordered outa here.”         Soarin’ blushed, then he smiled. “Yeah. I guess I did.”         Spitfire looked at the floor. Each of her friends had shared something deeply personal. Was it her turn now? They trusted her, and still she held them at hoof’s length. She closed her eyes and just let her mind drift.         Let them in! Don’t let them in! Trust them! Can’t trust anypony!         She felt her wings intertwined with theirs, felt the warmth they gave off, the familiar glow of their friendship and the desire to pay it back in kind. The hole in her heart overrode reason and fear, and memories swept over her like a flood.         “The last time... the last time I was in a place like this, a police officer came to get me after school. When Officer Friendly took me down to Eastdale Memorial Hospital, I figured maybe Grandma had passed on, she was sick for a long time. Didn’t make much sense they’d send for me that way, but... when you’re a kid, you don’t always think of things like that. The waiting room was full of scared ponies: grown ups, teens, colts and fillies. I recognized a lot of them. I remember there wasn’t a free seat so I hopped up on a windowsill and waited my turn. Pony after pony got their name called, and they walked in scared and walked out crying. I started to get worried. I wanted to leave. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run off to the restaurant where Mom and Dad were going to go for their date night and ask them to take me for ice cream. Then the nurse called my name.         “In the office there was a big wooden desk with a wrinkly old doctor behind it. He had a kind smile and sad eyes. He asked me my name. He asked me if Alpine Frost and Zephyr were my parents’ names. He said there had been a terrible accident at the weather factory... he told me they were gone.”         Red and Soarin’ closed up the circle, squeezing her tighter. For the first time in years she began to feel whole. Through teary eyes she offered her friends a grateful smile. “Thanks, guys. Red... was your mom alright? What happened?”         Red flashed a tiny grin. “Meningitis. Nasty piece of work. Fortunately, my mama’s an even nastier piece of work. Took a month of bed rest in the dark and an awful lot of frankly underappreciated tender lovin’ care from yours truly, but she made it through. She’s a fighter. I get the feeling she’d like you a whole awful lot, Sunshine.”         A fresh set of hoofbeats brought B Flight’s eyes to the door as Dee barged in.         “Where’s my big ugly idiot?”         Wedge disengaged from the circle and went to greet his sister-in-law. “Hi, Auntie Dee. Firelight’s got him. We’ll know more soon. We got him here pretty quick, I think he’s gonna be alright.”         Dee paced around the room. “Ugh. This place brings me back. I hate it in here. Hate it, hate it, hate it!”         Soarin’ shrugged. “We’re all passing the time sharing sad stories. Want a turn?” She sighed and sat down. “Sure, why not?” Turning a meaningful glance to Wedge, she said, “You know, the last time I did the waiting room thing... gosh, I think it was all the way back to Jag and Zene.”         Spitfire blinked and looked up. “Who?”         Dee offered a sad smile. “My big sister Zenith and her husband Jagged Peak. You were looking at their pictures at the house a week or three ago? Horrible training accident. That may have been the worst day I can remember. One minute I’m on cloud nine because my block-headed wingmate finally popped the question, next minute I’m in a room like this one, scared stiff, thinking I’m gonna lose my sister, and then I’m gonna have to raise this rambunctious knucklehead,” she jerked her head toward Wedge before continuing, “and then Stormy’s not going to be so gung ho about marrying me if there’s already kids in the picture, and...”         Red’s eyes snapped open. “Wait. Wait. What? What was that about this rambunctious knucklehead?”         Dee shot Wedge a bemused look. “You didn’t tell them?”         Soarin’ cocked his head quizzically. “We didn’t tell them?”         Spitfire looked around the circle. “Guys? If you don’t tell us what, I think Red’s gonna blow a fuse.”         Wedge turned to his wingmate. “I’m sorry, Red. I really am. It just... there was... it was a long time ago, and I’m as over it as you could expect me to be, and it never seemed like the right time to bring it up.”         “Bring what up?”         Wedge cringed, not quite meeting her eyes. When the words did come out, they tumbled out all at once. “My mom and dad died in a training accident and my best friend’s parents adopted me so that my mom’s baby sister and my friend’s big brother wouldn’t have to raise me when they were just starting out together?”         Red slugged him in the shoulder. Then she pounced on him and buried her face in his mane. “You should have said something!” Rubbing his neck, he said, “Red, c’mon. It’s OK. I mean... it’s ancient history. I miss ‘em, Dee does too. But I couldn’t ask for a better family, all things considered... it’s OK...” Spitfire turned to the gray mare. “So... that’s why he calls you ‘Auntie Dee’?” “Yep.” “Where’s the little one?” “Moonglow’s got her. Mommy needs to make sure Daddy’s not a horror show before the little one can come say hello.” Dee lowered her head, a determined look in her eyes. “It’s been fun, gang, but I have a husband to chew out. So if you’ll excuse me...” She marched through the double doors.         Moments later she returned through them in reverse, with Doctor Firelight at her breast.         “Absolutely not, madam! Your husband is twenty percent icicle right now! We are at a very delicate stage in his treatment -- he could thaw, or he could melt, and we do not want it to be the latter, do we?”         Dee snorted in frustration. “Unless my eyes or voice are giving off deadly husband-melting rays, I don’t see why five minutes in the room with him is going to cause so much trouble!”         Firelight reared up. Spitfire had never seen him so indignant. Ever one to wade into trouble, Red entered the conversation. “Captain?”         He wheeled on her, eyes aflame. “Yes, cadet?”         She smiled at him, batting her eyes. “Terribly sorry, Captain. I understand if it’s too dangerous for the patient. You’re the attending and that’s your call to make. But I was thinking: this may be my only chance to see a real case of thaumic frostbite in a controlled setting, and as my flight’s medical specialist I feel it would be irresponsible to not at least ask if we could observe. Briefly.”         Firelight sighed. “Very well. Two minutes. Keep talking to a minimum.”         Dee stepped up, wearing a devious smile. “The captain has called me up from reserve, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be attending my cadets.”         The doctor glared, but said nothing Dee and Red gasped as they entered the room. T-Bone’s lower jaw was transparent, as if made of the finest crystal. Splashing back across his neck and down one side, the facetted ice replaced his coat and musculature all the way back to the flank. His stormcloud cutie mark hovered in the crystal like smoke trapped in the ice. Beneath the ice, stark white bone and angry red tissue caught the light, fascinating and nauseating the cadets.         Firelight took the floor. “Here we are, then: a severe case of thaumic frostbite. As you can see, as much as twenty percent of the patient’s body mass is now ice of roughly the same type as that which constitutes the elemental beasts which bit him. The patient is exceedingly lucky to have received only shallow wounds, I shouldn’t have to say that vital organs stop functioning when they crystallize. Still, the loss of this much tissue could easily be fatal. Therefore the patient remains in an ice bath until such time as the thaumic effect wears off and the limbs thaw. To allow them to return to normal temperature before then would cause them to melt away.”         He singled out Soarin’. “You did everything right when you brought him here, whether by luck or by skill I do not know. Had he been placed upon your back wounded side down, the ice would have bonded to your uniform and your coat, and the two of you would be in a much less pleasant condition. Now then, Miss... Sunrise, is it? If you would like to look over my observations I can allow the family a very brief visit.”         As one, four ponies shot Red a grateful grin for running interference. Soarin’ placed a hoof on the side of the tub. “Not gonna lie, Bro. You’ve looked better.”         Thunderhead rolled his eyes. There was pain in his expression, but also the indomitable upbeat spirit that he wouldn’t be T-Bone without.         Dee reached down and tenderly brushed his mane out of his eyes. “I dunno. The quiet’s an improvement. Think I can talk him into letting your tongue melt?”         His eyes twinkled and he puckered his icy lips for a kiss.         “Nice try. I remember when you froze your tongue to the flagpole. Not gonna fall for it.”         Dee stepped back so Wedge could pay his respects. “You really gave ‘em hell out there, T-Bone. Wherever he is, I suspect Comet’s smiling.”         Spitfire didn’t know what to say, and she could hear Firelight coming back to kick them out, so she settled on a simple, “Hey, Sarge. Get better, OK?”         He raised a hoof in salute as the visitors were hustled back out of the infirmary.         B Flight decided it was as good a time as any to grab a meal. At lunch, Spitfire recalled a curious development just before visiting with T-Bone.         “Dee? Are you really our sergeant now? Did the captain really call you up?”         She smiled. “Not... as such, no. Moonglow came to get me after you got back to base. She told me what happened. She also told me she twisted an ankle real good out there and that she intended to ask Aurora to reactivate me so I could help, at least until she’s back to a hundred percent. So it probably will be true in an hour or two.”         B Flight brightened at the news.         “That’s great,” said Wedge.         “Yeah,” said Soarin’, “not that Moonglow isn’t great, but if we can’t have T-Bone it’ll be fun...”         Dee snarled. “Fun? Nothing about this is going to be fun! I run a tight ship! Things will not be the loosey-goosey joyride you’ve gotten used to under that good-for-nothing sack of bones you call a sergeant!” She scowled at Red and Wedge. “Most of all, no lovey-dovey kissey face antics will be tolerated! I’ve got my eye on you two!” Spitfire started to laugh, until Dee wheeled on her and Soarin’. “What’s funny? I’m watching you two even closer! It’s the quiet ones you really have to worry about.” Soarin’ cocked his head to one side. “It is?” “Oh sure. You watch the ones who titter and tease and play grab-flank in the hallways and next thing you know the quiet, mousy little mare’s pulling a train in the gym and you’ve gotta expel all the stallions in two squadrons!” Red whispered in Wedge’s ear, loud enough for the entire table to hear “Don’t worry, honey bunny. I’m a screamer.” For the first time in four weeks of training, Wedge blushed fiercely enough for the others to see. The table erupted with laughter. Dee said, “You know what? This is going to be fun. This is going to be so much fun.” It felt good to laugh, to release some of the nervous energy built up after the day’s events. As the afternoon gave way to evening and Aurora wrapped up the post-op debriefing, the day proved to have one more surprise in store. “As some of you may be aware, injuries to Sergeant Thunderhead leave him unable to perform his duties. Furthermore, injuries to Sergeant Moonglow leave her at a reduced state of readiness. Because of this, B Flight is left without adequate instruction. Therefore I have recalled Reserve Lieutenant (j.g.) Ditzy Doo to active duty, effective immediately. B Flight will report to her from now on.”         Wearing a crisp new training officer’s uniform, Dee joined her mother-in-law beside the podium.         “Furthermore, as is my prerogative, I have decided to give a field commission to-”         “Mommy! Mommy! Look what Moonglow made for me!”         A gentle titter ran through the auditorium as Little Dee galloped down the aisle. She bounded onto the stage, wearing a tiny little training uniform with red trim.         Aurora cracked a smile. “This is Sergeant Dinky Doo. B Flight will be expected to follow her orders as well.”         The tiny filly leapt up onto the podium and fixed her cadets with an imposing stare. “Exspecially you, unca Soarin’!”         The captain had to shout “Dismissed!” to be heard over the resulting laughter.         Life at Camp Solar slowly returned to normal. The entire camp quickly adopted “Sergeant Dinky” as an unofficial mascot, with off-duty cadets seeking her out to be given some simple, nonsensical task, such as “Eat five cookies! Now! Gimme any lips and I’ll make it six!”         The next week finally brought with it formal training in first aid, and with it an in-depth case study in Thunderhead’s frostbite. Red was in her element, and Spitfire was glad to see her friend enjoying herself. The following week would introduce the first martial arts training, and after that, B Flight would be seeing a lot less of each other as the cadets split up for advanced training in their primary and backup specialties.         Around mid-week, Spitfire found herself preoccupied with thoughts of the impending split as she crossed the parade grounds before class. The split was some ten days away, and as she’d chosen aid as her backup specialty she needed to focus on the task at hoof... but she couldn’t shake the feeling that things just weren’t going her way.         A familiar and unwelcome voice beside her confirmed that feeling.         “Heya, Stain! Bigs wants a word with ya.”         Spitfire gritted her teeth. Since she’d called Diamond Dust ‘Big Shot’ the other day, the name had stuck. “That’s nice, Shifty. Why don’t you tell him I’d be happy to have a little chat just as soon as he pulls his head out of his ass?”         The diminutive mare’s smile turned sour. “He wants a rematch, Seven. That’s all. Just a fair contest. Here in the ring. That is, if you’re up to it.”         Spitfire wheeled on her with a frustrated snort. “Any time, any place. I’d have even spotted him a few points if he’d asked me himself.”         Shifty offered a thin smile. “Good. I’ll tell him.”         As she turned to leave, Spitfire called over her shoulder, “Sure you don’t just wanna have the rematch now? I mean, if you’re asking for him, I figure you’re fighting for him, too!”         When Shifty didn’t react, Spitfire stormed off to her room. By Wednesday evening B Flight had received word that T-Bone had thawed successfully and was able to see visitors. As they came through the door one by one they winced sympathetically at the hairless mass of purple and blue that had replaced the ice - thawing had left him one giant contusion from stem to stern. His cheery grin belied the pain he must be in. “Hey! Come on in, guys! Make yourselves at home! Say hi to Aster.”         The cadets waved to T-Bone’s roommate as he resumed his hours-long attempt to raise the reindeer’s spirits. “As I was saying, your dad used to bring me the weirdest shit. Every year a different gift and it never made any sense.”         Aster offered a reluctant smile. T-Bone’s grin was infectious. “Yes. There was a method to his madness, you know. To bring a gift for a friend’s children, this is a sign of respect.”         Thunderhead smirked. “Yeah, yeah. And the more exotic the gift the more honor given. Blah blah blah. Except he didn’t stop when I reached adulthood.”         “No!”         “It’s true. Even after I enrolled in camp. The very year I saved the vale, he brought me some carved trinket from way out east. You know what he said to me? He said, ‘Not wed, not grown. Until that day, a fawn’s gift for a fine fawn.’”         The young buck relented, offering a full belly laugh in his father’s memory. Presently the laughter gave way to a melancholy smile.         “He was very fond of your family. You knew him well. Better even than I did, perhaps. When he...”         T-Bone picked up where Aster trailed off, “If Comet approved of you, then he thought it was critically important that you should set about making more of you. When I married Dee, he only let up for a year or two before he threatened me with more kids’ trinkets unless I set about adding foals or extra wives.” His own expression grew wistful. “I suspect he had something for the little one this year. Guess I’ll never know.”         Aster met his eye. “I know for a fact that he did. Throughout the year he spoke of his regret that your daughter’s birth took him unawares last Fall.” Spitfire patted the rail on Aster’s bed. “I’m... sorry for your loss, Aster. Your dad seemed like a formidable stag. I’m sorry I fought with him the only time I met him.” The reindeer smiled. “Don’t be. That’s exactly how he wanted it. He approved of you very much.”         Seeing that Spitfire didn’t know quite what to make of that, T-Bone seized the reins of the conversation. “You know, old Comet was a funny guy. He took laughter very seriously. We’ve seen that firsthoof, haven’t we, Wedge?”         Stargazer chuckled, a far-off glint in his eyes. “Yeah. Mom and Dad’s service. You tell it, T.”         Aster sat up, grunting as he did so. “A tale of Aurora and Bastion? Father spoke of them often. Belike I know this one already.”         T-Bone shook his head. “No, this one’s about the funeral service for Jagged Peak and Zenith, Mom’s two best friends in the world apart from Dad.” He nodded at his little brother. “Loved ‘em so much she adopted their boy. He turned out alright. Largely thanks to me. Right, Wedge?”         He rolled his eyes. “Right. The way Dee tells it, she adopted me to save me from having you for a dad.”         Everypony laughed. T-Bone said, “That, too. So Comet comes to the ceremony. Everyone was just honored as hell that he made the trip - it was in Canterlot, hell of a long way down from the Whitecrowns. We’re having the wake and Comet climbs up right next to the casket and, in his big booming voice, he tells this horribly offensive, off-color joke about a zebra and a Harmonizer. Then he looks down at Zene’s coffin and says, ‘Laugh. You love that joke. Laugh.’ Then he looks back up and in that same big voice he tells this raunchy joke about a chambermaid and a crew of bellfounders. Then he taps his foot against Jag’s casket. ‘Now, come on, you bastard. I know for a fact that was your favorite joke. Laugh, damn you! Laugh!’         “By now you could hear a pin drop in that place. Everyone’s staring at him. This big damn deer with antlers sticking out so far you’d think he’d tip over. And he climbs up onto the casket and looks out at the assembled mourners, and he says, ‘Friends! Jagged and Zenith were quite dear to me. I know that they are laughing now. Unfortunately, where they have gone we can no longer hear them. Therefore if we are to honor them properly we must laugh with them, and laugh so long and so loud that where they have gone, they can hear us!’ He proceeds to tell what might be every joke he knows. Funny or not. Polite or rude. Doesn’t matter. Inside of a few minutes, Dee’s laughing. A few minutes later, Mom’s laughing. Not long after that, even little Wedge is laughing. By this time the mourners see the bereaved laughing and they figure it must be okay. Before long the whole place is rocking. When he finally runs out of jokes half the congregation has tears of laughter in their eyes, and for the first time your old dad cracks a smile. He says, ‘I thank you. Jagged and Zenith thank you.’ And he walks out.” T-Bone smiled at Aster. “That was your dad in a nutshell. When somebody needed him, there he was. Then he did what needed doing and off he went.” “Hey Stain! Any time? How ‘bout now!”         Spitfire turned. Big Shot was barreling down at her out of the sky, his eyes ablaze behind his customary sneer. She pushed Soarin’ and jerked out of the way as he passed.         “You jackass! What the hell are you doing?”         The big white stallion pulled into a high, lazy circle above her. “You said it: rematch, any time I choose now!” He dove again. She flattened herself against the turf and he whipped right over her.         “You should be flattered, Stain. Last week you weren’t even worth putting in your place.”         He dove, she dodged.         “Nice move. Shoulda taught that one to your sergeant!”         Spitfire snarled as he dove again. At the last second, he turned and whipped his tail in her face.         “See? I knew you were lying. Wyverns and manticores my eye. You’re about as bold as that milquetoast wingmate of yours, and as full of it as that slut Six.”         He squared up for one more pass. “C’mon, Stain. All I want’s a little taste. Show me something.”         She closed her eyes. As he dove in she stood her ground. He braced, expecting his hooves to take her in the withers. She rolled backward, grabbing one of his hooves as he passed over head. He cartwheeled into the ground and she somersaulted over him. She grabbed him by the mane, slammed his face into the ground, and dragged him to the flagstone at the center of the parade ground. There she stood him up on his hind legs and stepped back.         “Go ahead. One free shot. I won’t move.”         He eyed her warily.         “Take it. Go on. Take it, Big Shot. Then we’ll dance.”         His eyes narrowed. He drew back a hoof and clocked her in the chin.         She turned with the punch, then turned back and smiled. “My turn.”         Quicker than he could react, she spun and planted a powerful two-legged buck in his center of mass, doubling him over and sending him flying. She extended her wings and was on him the moment he landed, grinding his face into the dirt.         She let out a feral howl and then screamed at him, “How’s that taste, huh? How’s that, Big Shot? How funny’s it gonna be when I force feed you this entire field? Maybe I’ll just bash your skull in, sound good? Maybe I’ll rip a few feathers out. Split an ear. Bloody an eye. Maybe we’ll see how you do with the same set of bruises I’ve got! Think you can handle that, Big Shot? You and your big talk and your big head and your bucking bullying bullshit! What’s it got you? I’ll tell you, Big Shot: it got you your flank handed to you by a little wounded filly, it-”         At that moment a pale blue blur tackled her, knocking her down and pinning her to the grass.         Soarin’ watched, aghast, as his wingmate pummeled Red One. All around the parade ground other recruits rushed to the sound of the commotion. there were no officers among them yet, but it was only a matter of time.         He stood, frozen. Paralyzed by indecision as his feelings of duty and doubt argued in his head.         Get in there! Protect her!         She doesn’t need protecting. I was a fool to think she did.         She needs help!         More like he needs help.         He shook his head. If somepony didn’t stop her, she could wind up doing some serious damage to another cadet -- and that could get her kicked out. He lowered his head and charged.         He tackled her as gently as he could, trying to cushion her impact even as he held her down.         “No. No, Seven. No. Sunshine, stop. You can’t do this. You’ll kill him”         She struggled against him, pushing her head up over his shoulder to find her prey. “Wanna kill him. Deserves it. Gonna stomp on him ‘til he stops hurting me.”         He grabbed her head in his hooves and pulled her face to his. “Seven! Stop it! You got him, he’s done. You don’t want to hurt him.”         She writhed and snapped. Her lips curled up into a cruel smile. “Yes I do. Hurt him like he hurts me. Go for the throat, bite ‘til he bleeds. Won’t have to hear his voice anymore.”         “That’s not a good idea, Spit! I’m sure he tastes terrible. Maybe we should calm down a bit, huh? Re-think that plan? Maybe don’t bite him?”         Spitfire’s eyes snapped open. He could lose himself in those eyes.         “You’re absolutely right, Soarin’!”         “I am? Of course I am. Let’s just-”         She laughed. “I’ll hold him down, you bite his throat out! It’ll be fun!”         Not knowing what to do, he slapped her. “Spitfire! Snap out of it!”         She blinked. “Soarin’?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.         He pulled her closer. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s me, Spit. It’s me. I’m sorry.”                  “I’m s-sorry. I d-didn’t want... I hoped you wouldn’t s-see me like this.”         He squeezed his eyes shut. Behind him he could hear shouting. He recognized his mother’s voice. He pressed himself down against her and murmured, “It’s okay, Spit. It’s okay. This isn’t you. Come back, Spit. Just come back.”         He felt her begin to tremble. “This is me, Soarin’. It always was.”         He held her tight as she began to weep.