Its cold. Or at least that's what May says. That's ok though, I never minded the cold, infact I almost preferred it to a warm comforting sunbeam at times. I can't speak for May however, but I get the feeling she agrees with me, more or less. She always agrees with me, and that's why I love her.
Truth be told, I wouldn't have even noticed the chilly winter breeze flowing over our little mountaintop home had she not been there to mention it to me. She wasn't always there for me though. there was a time when I was stranded out in this cold, deserted forest all by myself, way back before I even knew her.
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I should probably let you know a little bit about myself before I begin, so without further adue;
My name is Wings, Wild Wings, or as most know me "Mad" Wings, probably because most ponies who have had the pleasure of meeting me have come to the conclusion that I was infact mad. I suppose it's all a matter of opinion. Though I have to admit, it certainly is catchy. Wild "Mad" Wings, I wouldn't mind going by that name at all. Other ponies can call me crazy all they want, ill relish in it. It's just another thing that I am and they're not.
I grew up in Stalliongrad, that being said I never was much a... pony pony... my social skills were... well... lacking, to say the least. These certain "friend making" abilities weren't always at the top of my concerns for most my youth. Doesn't matter, with the constant threat of war and the ever-demanding industry of the city, most pony's minds were elsewhere as well.
The relentless strife of our government to be the best and most powerful in all the known world landed me a decent job at a military test faculty, particularly that of a test pilot. Ironic work for a Pegasus if you ask me, but it paid well and frankly, I enjoyed it. flight has a much different feel when your also hauling two tons of ammunition through the air at supersonic speeds.
I supposed they preferred to use us pegasi for safety reasons. I mean with our ability to fly and all, there was much less a chance of some sort of injury or even fatality in the case of a... well... an accident. nonetheless One could argue that that's where my story began, with an accident.
I left my apartment that one faithful morning with full intentions to return to the comforts it held within, as well as to my fish, Stubs, who resided inside and kept me company over the years. However, as I always have been a little paranoid, I grant my farewell to Stubs and my few worldly belongings, just as I had every day. I did this because, just as I have felt every other day for much my life, today I had a certain feeling it would one distain by fate, and for once I was right.
Looking back, I probably would have extended my parting good by that morning if I truly did know the full extent of the days significance, but as I was already running late for a very important date in my career, I cut the parting shorter than I would have preferred. This has always torn at me, but there's no use fretting the past. That life has ended and a new one was just about to begin...
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It truly is quite an impressive faculty. Stretches of airfield far and wide, gigantic hangers erected all across the grounds, con towers that scraped the skies. Even the production faculties that littered the neighboring lots of land were architectural triumphs. Yes Stalliongrad's first defense air base was something to be proud of, and I was proud to work there. Even if I wasn't actually enlisted into the military, just testing the planes that would soon fill the hangers and defend the skies around the base was enough to feel I was doing my part for my country.
Today they have me testing some new fighter plane. You believe that? A plane! For those pathetic earth bound ponies. If you ask me, the skis should be left to us pegasi. Sooner or later somepony in high command will see who really should be fighting in our mighty military, certainly no defenseless earth pony's and especially no unicorn weaklings .
I can see the newest innovation masterminded by the truly greatest power in the world, A FIG-110. It's a brilliant design, worthy of any great power, and today, I over all other ponies, am entrusted to test it! should be the ride of my life. (If I only knew...)
"You ready comrade wings?" a voice asks from by my side.
"Humm... Oh, yes, certainly sir." I reply to my flight leader as he gives me a uncertain stair.
After looking me over for a few moments he speaks. "Good, 'cuse this is your career right here, time to show high command you've got it and our engineers really worth shit. You'll be set for life if you manage to pull this off. Not to mention the good you'll be doing for the empire."
Flight commander Fringe was your standard tough, mean, and sometimes just plane brutal Stalliongrad stallion. However, often he takes these "standards" to the extreme, and doing as such, he commands a good deal of respect. Even I must pay my tribute to the stallion, for he is much more so than I myself could ever be.
"I'm quite aware sir, I'll do the motherland proud." I say trying to sound as patriotic as possible .
"Good man." Is all he says as he walks off to try and find a good view of the air show that I was about to put on.
I climb into the cockpit of the newest and boldest product off the production lines (even though the government didn't exactly request any built yet.) All my flight training concentrated into one masterpiece aircraft," this should be fun." I say to myself as if there was another pony in there with me, about to accompany me as we climb into the skies far above our proud nation.
Scattered across the airfield I spot pony's of all sorts of work preparing for my flight, "for them, for the motherland!" I mutter, almost unaware that I'm still talking aloud as I start the engine and prepare to taxi to my designated landing strip. Won't be a long wait until I'm in the air. After all, for the time being, I'm on top priority at the Stalliongrad 1st defense air force base.
I take off and ascend into the vast blue sky. From there my subconscious takes over, and all goes into a bluer, I become one with the beast of a machine and we know what to do. I throttle forward after pulling a few maneuver stunts above the base and start heading westward towards the mountains. In order to test the true maximum air speed, as well as a good cursing speed for the aircraft, I would have to fly strait for a little while.
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Back at the Stalliongrad 1st defense airbase chaos has shown its ugly face. Generals as well as media alike flock the conning towers, and control stations. there are ponies everywhere running amuck throughout the once orderly military facility. Even a simple aircraft mechanic practically got mugged by investigators in search of a story to feed the fat media pigs.
A voice is heard over the bases loud speaker system, "All we can release now is that a test aircraft has recently gone off the map." it states in a very authoritative tone although it's trying desperately to calm the insanity down that has descended upon its airfield.
Inside the main control tower panic is rampant as officials run around checking radars and listening to all recent communications between the airbase and any aircraft within a hundred miles. There are many violent conversations present in the room. two generals argue over the cause of the "disruption" that is obviously much more so and running across an entire military base in the form of mobs trying to get information. A government council member is scolding a base official for a truly horrible performance by an aircraft that was supposed to be "all that". An aeronautical engineer is practically in fetal position shaking in the corner trying to figure out his fate for his apparently faulty design. Probably nothing but just a little reprobation, but when the government is always watching you, jobs like these can get a little stressful.
Over an intercom in the decent sized control room, last minute distress calls are played, with an origin somewhere over the vast mountain ranges that lie just to the west of the United Socialist State of Stalliongrad.
All that is made out is a scratchy voice, clearly worried and trying desperately to save itself.
"I'm go... ng dow... maday ma.... maday.... ove... the .......... mountains, maday ma........ing down, cant bail..... repeat I ...nt bail out.... going down"
The same 15 seconds or so of radio contact is playing on a loop as analyst try desperately to figure out the location of the pilot in distress, and even more importantly the design of what would have been the nation's newest technological advancement, but they have no such luck.
Down in a field a certain flight leader is scowling at the sky.
"DAMN IT WINGS!" He curses towards the heavens. "You're mad wings, mad! we were so close. Why couldn't you just come back like every other damn time! Hunh?, why you gotta go and crash that damn piece of shit! Why you just gotta go and die! You bastard! You hear me! YOU BASTERD!"
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Sometimes I do wonder if they ever did figure out what sort of "malfunction" my aircraft suffered that day. Probably not, they probably never will...