//------------------------------// // All Good endings... // Story: On the Parade // by Thunder_Chaser_ //------------------------------// The world grew fuzzy around Soarin as he slumbered in his bunk. As the numbing world of sleep took it's host, his mind was guided down a road of memories. As his mind walked through the cosmic expanse, he found he had no control of his direction. Every memory he could recount was here, even events that had yet to happen. He neared ever closer to a haunting dream. Deep down Soarin knew he would not remember any of this, or he hoped he would not. He neared ever closer to the memory, it was cracked, sparking with electricity from acidic emotions, and darkened. He closed his eyes as he fell into the drowning reality of the dreamscape. With a crack Soarin found himself in his old Family home in Cloudsdale, staring up at his parents from a dinner table made of cloud. "A Soldier?" "Of all professions, a Soldier? Marching up and down? The army wouldn't take you, you're a bloody pegasus, you're not built for anything worthwhile!" Soarin recalled with great memory, he had just told his parents about his decision to join the wonderbolts. I said Wonderbolt. "Pathetic. For years generations of your family - OUR family, have worked in the Weather Factory, you want to break tradition simply to be a show pony?" They're so much more then just show, they help defend and protect Equestria. You always told me to do something with my life. So why are you giving me this now? Is it not something with my life?? "It's a waste. Just like you. If you enlist, you shall see no help from the either of us. We shall not support you and your foolish dreams. If you want to go and ruin this family's good name, so be it, but don't seek us ever again." "Honey, isn't that a bit harsh?" "It's not harsh enough. Run off boy, join your army. We don't love you, and we never will, Now get out!" Through the teared stained eyes of his memory, Soarin stared with hate at the stallion who he had once held in such high regard, in the title of father. This memory was laced with venom and hate a thousand times over, but he could never conciliate or dispel the emotions that lingered. Please, just this once be reasonable Father! "Be gone, you are no son of mine. " Arguably a good deal of this had maybe made Soarin into the Stallion he was today. Father! For Celestia sakes, put your stubbornness aside, is this not what you wanted me to do with my life!?! Or maybe it had just left a scar big enough that he found a drive to try to fill it. "I said be gone! Leave!" His father reached for a nearby vase as it began to sail through the air towards him. Just like that, Soarin bolted up. It was well before his alarm should've gone off by at least two hours. With a sigh, Soarin took in the fading abyss of darkness that was his quarters, and rested his muzzle in his hooves. "Guess it's never too early for breakfast..." mumbled Soarin. Soarin paced carefully back and forth on the train platform. His head now clear of clouded thoughts by some hardwork and exercise. The station was silent except for the repetitive clopping of his hooves on the old wood. The Officer of troop Transport had been kind enough to tell him that all members of his team would be arriving today at this station, however, they failed to specify a time. That wasn't the first problem he had with this. He was fuming from how poorly planned this entire set up had been. Spitfire had thrown a large amount of resources into this, yes, he was grateful, but she hadn't done much else besides that. She didn't even bother transferring one of the Wonderbolt's chefs, or anyone who could cook to the team. And the list of problems only grew from there on. He had cringed after reading some of the Team member's files this morning. The Bulk was made up of inexperienced members. Recently Spitfire had began using the team as disciplinary action for poor performing personnel, or personnel she didn't like. Their service records were dotted with infractions. For a few, it seemed to be entirely composed of infractions, just one mistake after another. Soarin wasn't completely disappointed by Spitfire however. It appeared that she had transferred at least eight good to great personnel into his command. He recalled overhearing something about Spitfire having to defend her use of the team as a disciplinary tact to one of the Generals at the officers mess once. The thought of the sweet and savoury food the Officers mess had to offer brought him back to reality and the hunger from not having anything besides stale MRE's to eat. The dates suggested that they had been packaged at least half a century before Luna's return if not more. Leftovers from the Griffon War. Just the simple selection of two words itself brought a blood like taste to his mouth. He hated it with a passion, a burning ember. He couldn't let his emotions spoil his attitude. Soarin buried these thoughts deep within his mind as he saw the train start to pull in. Before him offloaded 15 Wonderbolts in their Dress Blue uniforms. He noticed the better Personnel were a bit more decorated in Rank and Awards, while the lesser... Well, At least their uniforms were up to standards. Each pony filed off, some appeared to be in conversation, while others seemed to be a little introverted towards the predicament. "Alrighty..." Soarin started, attempting to get their attention and failing, "LISTEN UP PONIES" All conversations died as all attention was draw to him. Okay, part one down, I have their attention, Didn't think I'd make it this far to plan for a Part two... Ah horseapples, now what am I supposed to do. With a mischievous grin, Soarin drew up the best memory of his most intimidating Drill Instructor, Spitfire. "Now that I have your attention... You are all here because you've been assigned to me. Does anyone know, Why you are here?" The group slightly looked at each other, curious of who was going to speak first. "Because we've been assembled for the drill team sir..." "What? Who said that? I can't hear you!" "Because we've been assembled here for the Drill team, Sir." "For the love of Lunas flank, Speak up." Soarin said again. "Because we've been assembled here for the drill team, sir... Please don't get mad..." Soarin was tempted to sigh and bang his head against a wall, he was no good at intimidating ponies into subordination, it's why he hadn't ever been given a command like this before. "Miss, I cannot for the life of me hear you. Please speak with confidence and volume next time I ask you a question." "Sir, I believe what Private Light Breeze here is trying to say, is that we've been assembled for the drill team, sir." Soarin looked the Stallion over. His seniority showed, not only on his face, but on his uniform. Decorated with a few honours, and what appeared to be a Celestial Star, an award issued only once every five years to deserving service ponies. Yet for the apparent age granted by his looks, he was small in stature with plenty of body to fill out with age. 'There's no way this stallion is over 20 years old...' Soarin thought to himself "You, what is your Name Airpony?" "Sea Biscuit." "What?" "Sergeant Sea Biscuit, Sir." "What a peculiar name." "Thank you, sir, my mom chose it for me." 'Great, a wise guy too.' Soarin politely nodded at the joke and continued to inspect the ponies that had been selected for the team. He inspected each one briefly, quickly going over uniforms. It took him several minutes, but finally he inspected all 15. He was going as fast as he could, pointing out inaccuracies with uniforms, or restating standards. "All in all, I'm impressed. There are some areas where you all need improvement, but I figure we have plenty of time to iron that out. Let me formally welcome you to the Wonderbolt Precision Drill team. I hope you all enjoy your stay. Now, on my training file, it says one of you is my Deputy Commander, but it didn't state who." Silence hung throughout the train station. "Not a single one of you?" More silence. "If one of you doesn't step up I'm going to make PT tomorrow morning very painful for everyone." Tension hung in the air, eyes darting around looking at everypony else, trying to figure out who was the second in command. Suddenly all the eyes looked upwards, as a light whistle began to echo around the area. With a crack of lightning and the thud of wood, Rainbow Dash stood directly in front of Soarin. "You called?" Soarin stood dumbfounded. It was a long silent march back to the Armoury, Soarin attempted to keep as much military formality as he could, but it was impossible when he had almost passed out after his Deputy Commander appeared. Once they marched through the gates into the Armoury's outdoor parade square, he halted the team facing the flagpoles outside the entrance. "See those three flags? Each one stands for something Different. The Equestrian Flag stands for Harmony, No drill team has ever marched successfully onto the Parade square where they weren't in Harmony, in step. An entire Squad of Hearts beating in unison. The Wonderbolt Flag stands for Duty and Heritage, We will be the first Wonderbolt team in decades to take back the Celestial Award for Military Excellence, setting a standard for every Wonderbolt team, every colt, every filly, who shall come after us. The final Flag is the flag of this town, Ponyville. You will find that it is unique, there is nothing like it the world over, Just like this drill team you stand in now. Here you will find your peace, and your central core." Soarin paused, wondering where this dramatic speech had welled up from inside him, "These are your three Flags, you will salute them each and every morning, and you will salute them each and every night. You will do your best to ensure they are always flying high. These three flags represent this Drill team. You will ensure you do not fail this drill team." Silence hung amongst the Drill team. "Listen, I know most of you don't want to be here. Some of you are here sweating out what could've became a court martial, or worse. Luckily, this drill team exists. When I was just a Colt I watched this very drill team perform. Time and time again, I actively pursued an understanding of them and their drill. Fate did not have it in store for me to become a Driller, so I became an Aerial Specialist and Demonstrator instead. Fate does not govern us, okay? I don't care if you were on your way to being discharged before you got this posting. This is your chance for redemption, if you need it. Take this seriously, and we'll have a good time." Soarin finished, he was never much of a speaker, but he felt empowered, as if this is what he was born to do. "I totally agree with Soarin here, If we don't shape up who knows what'll happen to us." Dash proclaimed. There was silent mumbling and nods of agreement from the group. "Training Starts tomorrow morning at O'Six Hundred hours. You shall only be granted Sundays as Off duty days initially. If you all are successful and impress me within this first week, I will buy everyones drinks Sunday. But if you don't, I revoke your next off duty day. Deputy Commander Dash will read of the Room assignments, Dash?" "Uh Soar'?" Dash whispered to Soarin "Yes Dash?" "What Room assignments?" "The ones I gave you earlier." "Oh. Right." "Do you remember them?" "Yes, I do." "Then whats the problem?" "I don't have them anymore." "What?" "Poof, Gonzo." Soaring groaned, this was not going to be an easy six weeks. "Room postings shall be as follows, I don't care if you decide to change it, just please ensure its noted on the door way: Private Light Breeze, Barrack Room 001 Corporal Stratus, Barrack Room 001 Sergeant Sea Biscuit , Barrack Room 002 Private White out, Barrack Room 003 Private Brown out, Barrack Room 003 Corporal Sharp Point, Barrack Room 004 Private High Flight, Barrack Room 004 Warrant Officer Second Class Slipstream, Barrack Room 005 Sergeant Catabatic Wind, Barrack Room 006 Sergeant Burning Skies, Barrack Room 007 Private Silver wings, Barrack Room 008 Private Mosquito, Barrack Room 008 Corporal Kitty Hawk, what a unique name, Barrack Room 009 Corporal Chinook, Barrack Room 009 Warrant Officer Third Class Map Reader, Barrack Room 010. Now that you all have your rooms, I'd recommend going to bed early. Lights out is officially 2230. Until then, do as you please, just don't leave Armoury Grounds." Soarin shouted out. The Air-ponies quickly moved to their determined locations. "What about me?" Rainbow asked after the team had left. "You and me need to have a chat and you aren't going to like it one bit." "Oh." "Firstly, How'd you end up on spitfires watch list?" "Well..."