Chapter 8
At some point in the weeks that went by, I noticed my aunt had vanished. Her mumbling about the gryphons was gone too. I wondered for a little while whether she had been dragged off by the secret police for some drunken comment. Maybe she just up and left town, heading west. Either way, she left the apartment filthy, stinking of stale cider and dust. I wondered where she was for some time.
It didn’t take long for those wonderings to vanish as well.
When news came that the allies had destroyed the harbor where the gryphon fleet was sunk, and the flagship was gone, Meteor Six seemed to take the news hard. An Ensign from the royal navy delivered the news while he and his group were visiting my hometown. Six growled angrily and left the bar in a flurry of feathers. I was with Meteor Seven, who was repairing my model fighter for me, when I saw her. Even though Seven asked me to leave her be, I got up and followed her.
I found her by the nearby river that was flowing near their base. She stood almost completely hunched over. Her head was down, her feathers lightly blowing in the air as her thin tail swayed back and forth, the tip grazing the grass beneath her. She must’ve heard me approaching, but she didn’t turn around. “What do you want, dweeb?” she asked harshly.
Dweeb. She had never called me that before. I knew enough that it wasn’t a good word, more of one of her insults she gave to the lower ranked soldiers. I now knew she was feeling bitter about the fleet being lost. I then remembered talking to Eight when I asked if she had family. He said that her father was a navy sailor aboard the flagship that was sunk. He had wanted her to join the Navy and be a fighter pilot for him, but she had gone air force to prove she didn’t need his guidance. Eight just considered me a foal, and that I would forget what he told me in the morning.
I didn’t.
She had family all over the Gryphnian Kingdom, yet only she and her father were part of the military in two separate branches. I heard that she held some hostility towards her father for him trying to force her into the Navy, but I decided not to press that issue, since it wasn’t my place to.
I walked up beside her. Six still didn’t look at me, but I knew she was watching me. Her claws scratched at the inside of her pockets as a deep scowl coursing her features. She must have been conflicted by her feelings of whether to be happy her father lost his pride and joy, or sad that he could be dead. Either way, I felt a sort of kinship to what she was feeling, even though I knew the absolution to my own family predicament.
“Why do you follow me around?” she suddenly asked. I blinked and looked up at her, my brown eyes meeting her piercing gold irises. She stared back down at me, like a predator sizing up its prey before devouring it whole. “Don’t you have a home to go to? Why do you stay with us?”
I blinked again and looked back at the water. As I sullenly shook my head, she nudged me. “Come on, kid. We’re your enemy. You should be with your family.”
I again shook my head, not meeting Six's eyes. But I did look up to see her reaction. Her face had twisted in confusion until finally settling in one of understanding. A colt by himself, no real home, stayed with the enemy occupiers, quiet with not many friends. She suddenly hummed, as if understanding. “You… lost your parents… didn’t you?” she inquired softly, losing her apprehensive tone. I nodded softly. "And... it's because... of us, isn't it?"
With her tone of voice, it seemed she now understood that, while she had the possibility of her father being alive, probably wondering if she was, I didn’t. My parents were gone, not even enough to bury, let alone mourn. She still had her family, whilst I was, in practically every sense of the word, alone.
And then it happened. I don’t know what, but my eyes began getting watery. I tried wiping them away, but they started flowing down my cheeks before I could stop them. There were too many at once, and then my body began to shake. My tail quivered and soon I choked a sob. I didn’t understand why I was crying, but it must have had something to do with the fact that, after all this time of being without my parents, I never cried. Not once.
All of the built up tension, emotion, and silence had been released all at once the second Six mentioned aloud that I was alone. I had no real family outside my now missing, drunken aunt who barely spoke to me, mostly drowned herself in drink while she mumbled about the occupying soldiers. I furiously wiped at my eyes, determined not to let this powerful gryphon see me cry.
I sudden felt something wrap around me, tight, but comforting and warm. I opened my eyes to a sight I never once expected to happen.
Six had wrapped her arms around me in an almost motherly embrace.
“Let it out kiddo,” she murmured. “You won’t get another chance to mourn them if you keep it bottled up.” With those words, from this strong, independent female of the Gryphnian Air Force, who had a kill record a mile long, who led the most elite fighter squadron in the world, who was kind sometimes, but all others was commanding, powerful and remorseless, I let it out. My body shook with my sobs, held in check for the longest time. My tears started to stain her jacket as I just let them flow, unimpeded. I rested my head against hers while she held me.
The Gryphon female held me in this comforting embrace, letting me cry against her, until I felt blackness creeping around me, and I fell asleep in her arms.
In the process of keeping up with Meteor Squadron, I had found the comfort of a home, of a surrogate family... Leaving them was no longer an option for me now...
“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!” Sprig slammed the mug on the table, the open end down, as she yelled a triumphant cry when the Saddle Arabian pilot fell backwards, letting go of Sprig's hand, and passed out. The gathered air force pilots and ground crews cheered loudly, even the higher ranking officers joining the revelries.
Spitfire laughed hard as Soarin drew another line next to the three already on the board. “That’s four, Banshee! You’re taking down my best!”
Rhapsody took another sip of her cider and laughed. “Well she’s my best, and you’ve lost I think.” She pointed her mug at the four other pilots passed out on the wrap-around booth in the corner. They were joined by their fifth comrade, who was snoring loudly. “How about it?” The Major merely grinned and looked to her right. She then jerked her head at the table. A mix of “oooohs” and drunken giggles marked the arrival of Major Spitfire’s secret and final weapon.
Captain Rainbow Dash planted her flanks hard onto the chair, holding her arm out, her elbow on the table. Sprig’s beak curled back in a grin as she grasped Rainbow’s hand, her own elbow across from her opponents. They were both handed a mug, and then…
“Go!” Mythic cried.
The two mares pushes their hands against the other, their arms wrestling to put the other on the table. They drank from the mugs to increase their haze and try to make one another slip up and stagger in their focus of strength. They reached their third mug, and whilst Sprig had been there for a long time, she had learned at an early age how to hold her drink. Rainbow Dash on the other hand was a fresh body to go against.
A traditional drinking game from the older world of Hibern, warriors often tested their strength and sobriety by arm wrestling while chugging ale. It was an old and honored game, carried out by any who dared to compete. From the lowest peasant to the highest king, it was a time honored event.
Sweat rolled off their bodies, soaking their flight suits as they continued to struggle for dominance. They were given a fourth mug, a fifth, a sixth. Cheers grew more rampant, surely waking those at the base who decided to go to bed instead of participate. And then, on the seventh, the hippogriff’s arm began to waver. The rainbow maned mare pushed hard, the veins in her cyan hands flexing to try and prove dominance.
Sprig fought back, but her haze was too heavy, she blinked several times, trying to hold her balance. But Rainbow pressed hard, and the strain was too much for the drunken hippogriff. The grey hand hit the table, sending Sprig flying to the ground in a heap, where she collapsed. Rhapsody and Mythic groaned as the Wonderbolt squadron cheered. Bits were exchanged, drinks were passed around, and someone yelled for silence.
“She’s not moving.”
Silence was given as everyone turned downwards to the prone Sprig, laying on her back with her eyes closed. Everypony looked down, gathering around her. She wasn’t moving, simply laying on the floor of the lounge. Concern took hold, the festivities broken, as Rhapsody, Spitfire, Soarin, Mythic, and Rainbow Dash leaned down to inspect her.
“Yo Sprig,” Dash said. “You okay?”
She still lay there, unmoving like a log in a swamp. Rhapsody bit her lip as she looked around at the pilots surrounding Sprig’s prone form. Suddenly, she heard Mythic let out a drunken giggle and reached out towards her –
Sprig’s right eye opened, and she sent a fist into the air, where it collided with Mythic's jaw. He yelped and fell backwards, airborne for a moment, knocked off his hooves, before falling directly on his back. Wasting no time, Soarin jumped into the air, throwing his arms up. “She’s okay!” she cried.
Everypony cheered, returning to what they were doing. The game was over at that, and Rainbow knelt down and offered the hippogriff a hand, which she took and was helped up. Prideful as she was though, Sprig gave everyone sulking glare. Dash gave her a slap on the back. “We’ll have a rematch sometime,” she promised softly.
Sprig just huffed and headed for the bar to order something light. "Beaten by a pony in my own country... embarrassing."
Rhapsody shook her head, turning to the three pilots from Wonderbolt Squadron. Spitfire smiled proudly at the sea green mare. “Taking on a battleship, single handedly, and succeeding in sinking it, the flagship of all, is an impressive feat.”
Mythic threw his arm around his captain. “Bout got herself killed though.”
Spitfire shrugged, downing the last of her cider mug. “Either way, it was a successful attack, and their plans to invade Windbreak Point have been delayed… indefinitely.”
Rhapsody smiled and chugged her last from her own mug. The night they got back from their raid on Habun Harbor, General Iron Wing, commander of the Equestrian Royal Air Force, allowed a party to be held for the pilots who sank the fleet. He had also wished to express immediate congratulations upon the young Captain Rhapsody for sinking the flagship by herself in an outdated fighter. Rhapsody frowned just a little at the term ‘outdated’ but nonetheless accepted the praise.
“So we’re now ready to invade?” Rhapsody asked, her vision getting a little hazier. But when Spitfire shook her head, the sea green mare tilted her head. “What are we waiting for?”
“HQ is planning a new attack in the next couple of weeks, maybe sooner. We need to completely stall the gryphon’s ability to make war. Make them slow down considerably and then we can plan our invasion.” She then smiled. “And our entire base has been granted leave to enjoy the sights in the Hibernian capital.”
Mythic threw his arms up. “We get leave! I can hit on hippogriff women!” He held his pose for a few moments before freezing. Rhapsody, Soarin, and Spitfire watched him for a moment. It was then that the sky-blue Wonderbolt stallion waved his hand in the grey stallion’s face. The result was Mythic falling face first into the floor. He laid unmoving, save for the occasional snore coming from beneath. Rhapsody pursed her lips and looked at her mug, considering while nodding.
“That's some strong stuff.”
Spitfire shrugged. “It’s weak compared to the swill we drank back in basic after a good performance.”
Soarin then guffawed, leaning on the Major’s shoulder. She kept her balance, barely flinching, proving that of all the pilots on base, she had the highest alcohol tolerance. But the sky-blue stallion pointed at Spitfire, and slurred, “Hey Spits, remember that Shetland Whiskey we had after that one show in Las Pegasus. That was strong stuff.”
Spitfire laughed and moved her Captain off of her shoulder. “The Shetlands know how to make a good drink, that’s for damn sure.”
While not necessarily part of AEGIS officially, the Emerald Isle, home to the Shetlands, were their primary producer for a number of AEGIS and Gryphnian fighter craft. When the war broke out, their military contracts dissipated, followed by plans to build the fighters themselves, and the Shetland Ponies of the Emerald Isle walled themselves from the world, claiming an isolationist flag. Still, that didn’t stop them from shipping their primary, or what the soldiers thought the primary export was, to the mainland.
Pure, Shetland brewed whiskey.
Spitfire suddenly jumped when a white coated mare with a yello mane hurried up and tapped her shoulder. Spitfire leaned over so the Technical Sergeant could whisper in here ear, and then nodded sharply. “Thanks, Surprise. Excuse me everypony the General is on the line. Try to take it easy on the booze.”
Rhapsody lifted her mug. “No promises ma’am.”
Spitfire snickered and pointed at the new Captain. “Again… great work Captain. I expect to see more just like it.” With that said, the Major hurried to her office.
“A what?”
A dark grey pegasus stallion with a thinning red mane nodded and brushed his mane back with a hand. “King Kaubr’s intelligence operatives found the location of a solar power plant hidden in a deep canyon just inside the border of Gryphnia.”
Spitfire leaned in, eyeing General Iron Wing keenly. She knew this stallion, more so than many thought. He was one of the several noble born ponies who made their way into the AEGIS military officer ranks through Celestia knew what sort of means. He was efficient, but he was such a snob at the same time. Problem was, he was so good at his job, and he was such an important asset to the air force intelligence wise, they couldn’t afford to relieve him.
“Sir, you understand how well guard it’s going to be. Especially if it’s on the border. The Minotaur Principality may cover my pilots, but the gryphons have that area down pat with AA defenses.”
“The Minotaur chieftain has already assured me that they will have a path cut through in order for your pilots to make it in.” He smiled at her, revealing his perfectly white teeth as if to charm the Major’s clothing off. It didn’t work, as evident by the deadpan gaze she gave him. Seeing it didn’t work, he returned to his normally noble stature. “My point Major is that it will be a quick in and out.”
Spitfire shook her head. “It’s never a quick in and out when I send pilots into Gryphnia. I lose half the attack force I send in and they’re still being attacked when they return to friendly air space.” It was true, and many commanders in the AEGIS military knew that sending a surprise attack at Gryphnia meant you were about to lose a lot of arms, armor, and personnel. And most of it couldn’t be replaced, the loss of life especially.
But Iron Wing did not seem to care for such, waving her off. “The attack needs to happen anyway, whether now or later. Intelligence reports Gryphnia is making a push towards Manehatten and Appleloosa. By the time they reach it and engage our forces, Major, our opening will close and we may not get another chance.” He leaned forward, his piercing yellow eyes meeting the fiery orange of the Major of the Wonderbolts. “I implore you Major, take this opportunity while the opening is wide. Besides…” He then held up a folder labeled ‘Operation Blackout’. “You… don’t have much of a choice.”
Oh, Spitfire thought to herself as she shook her and looked aside. That old ploy. She looked back at the General, who patiently waited for her response to her orders. She found one, and made sure to add an edge to it. Whilst she was still mid-ranked officer in the Air Force, she had enough prestige to allow her to get away with telling the upper brass what was what. “You understand that by doing this, you’re sending a lot of my pilots to their graves.”
“We all make our sacrifices for liberty and justice, Major,” he replied softly. He suddenly leaned in. “Be happy you’re not going with them.” With that, Iron Wing looked off screen and reached for something. The screen blacked out and Spitfire hissed and swore violently, shoving one of her folder trays to the floor. Hiding her face, she looked out her window at the flight line. A few personnel were walking around, the security patrols making sure to keep the base clean of spies and such. More than one had a Germane Sheppard with them; noble dogs the AEGIS relied on for K-9 security.
She then spotted the hangars towards the middle of the line, where Ghost Wing’s fighters were housed. Not only that, but Spitfire caught sight of now Captain Rhapsody and her co-pilot, Lieutenant Ditzy Do, heading for the hangar the former’s fighter was housed. She sighed and let her finger slide from the blind she had moved to hide them from her sight.
“Dear Mother Mare, I hope this is worth it.”