//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 – Return to Base // Story: Operation Wonderbit // by Prane //------------------------------// The night’s curtain fell upon the city. A single cone of light was blasting from the projector, revealing the swirling particles of dust across the common room. The dust had gathered over the stacks of pillows and blankets amassed between a couch and a white sheet that served for a screen. Every pillow was distinctive in its own right—some were bought a long time ago when the funding from the government was more generous, others were donated by charitable ponies or happy parents who wanted to thank for making their family lives complete. A number was provided by Inks and Seats, a local shop of that exact assortment ran by an old stallion who was only as generous as his wife made him to be. Doctor Hugs peeked over the couch. “Of course... who else but you?” After further hours of goofing around with the Wonderbolts, the three orphans had decided to stay up late and recount the events of today to Fizzy who, upon finding herself squeezed between them, had no choice but to hear it all. She had assured she would tuck them up by ten, but at some point she gave in to the much deserved slumber and ended up with Wind Whisper clenching onto her leg. Chestnut, wrapped in the mare’s hoodie splayed out on the couch to have her belly for a pillow. On the only bit of space not occupied by limbs, between Fizzy and the back of the couch, rested a popcorn bowl. Inside, the balled up Glavia was wheezing softly, but the sounds were drowned out by the monotonous buzzing of the projector. Wincing, Doctor Hugs added bathing the buttery griffon to the list for tomorrow. “Am I late for the party?” came a whisper from across the room. “Captain,” the stallion replied at a hushed tone, too tired to get even a little startled. “I didn’t expect to see you here at such a late hour.” “One of the perks of being in charge. I don’t have to do my shut-eye when the rest does,” she said. “So, how was projection?” Doctor Hugs patted the machine. “This old thing didn’t burn out, so that’s one win in my book. One of the training montages had Soarin and Rapidfire as mere recruits. The kids loved it, and those were just a few short scenes with added narration. Just think what it’d be like if we were doing longer scenes, like entire books.“ “I doubt an adult would sit through such a projection, let alone a kid. Aren’t they too lively for that?” “Snacks kept them occupied. We’ve borrowed a popcorn cart from a local funfair for the occasion.” He helped himself to a kernel from a half-full bowl. “Want some?” “Nah. I just dropped by to make sure everything went well after I left,” she said. “Sorry I couldn’t come back sooner, too. The debriefing took longer than I’d expected.” Doctor Hugs shook his head and went back to stacking the bowls. “There’s nothing to apologize for. Both your Wonderbolts and Wonderbits stayed in high spirits for the rest of the day, so it’s safe to say this operation was a success, if you’ll forgive the parlance. The kids were also less loud than usual. More mature even, I’d say. They took turns dogging Glavia’s every step, talked a lot about responsibility.” He threw her an amused glance. “You obviously have a flair for working with children.” “Funny you should say that,” Spitfire quietly remarked and strolled over. “There’s a flight camp for young pegasi from Cloudsdale called Junior Speedsters. They once asked me to come by and show the kids some tricks and flight techniques. I kind of… shouted at them at first because I thought it would be best to treat them as my recruits. That they’d learn the most that way.” “Mhm. But children aren’t just small adults, are they?” “Exactly. Long story short, I had a friend who helped me out so it wasn’t a complete failure. But still, the word about my poor pedagogical skills got out. I got a complimentary thank-you note, but the following year they politely asked if I could recommend someone else. So, I’ve been sending Soarin ever since.” The stallion covered the ponies with a blanket, but in case of Glavia he settled for a crocheted doily he swiped from the table. “I think I’ve been avoiding kids ever since too,” Spitfire continued, “and I was doing well, actually. But today you guilt-tripped me into going, and guess what? It wasn’t all terrible. I’ve actually had fun, I mean…. in a way, I felt like I’ve finally made up for what I did wrong in the past. Thanks for the opportunity—I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.” “You’re very welcome,” he whispered. “Part of my job is to make others the best they can be, so thanks for taking that opportunity, too.” “No problem.” Spitfire smiled back and peeked over the couch. “Oh! Is that your assistant? Does she live here as well?” “Yeah,” Doctor Hugs chuckled. “Pretty much. Wait, you’re asking if she’s an orphan! No, no. She’s my niece, actually. She’s a student at the CCA and she’s fulfilling her internships quota by lending a hoof around here. Sometimes it means taking the night shift, if you will.” “No wonder she fell asleep. With so many kids and attractions it must have been a darn exhausting day for you and your team.” “You have no idea. But seeing everyone tucked up like this is definitely worth it.” Spitfire nodded. “Yes. It definitely is.” She broke away from the couch. “Well, anyway, I should go now. But if you’d like me to—uhm, if the Wonderbolts may be of any assistance in the future, we’ll be glad to participate, myself included from now on. Just say a word.” “Tea?” “Excuse me?” Doctor Hugs rubbed his temples. “Apologies, I misspoke. I said ‘tea’ and made it sound like an invitation for a cup of tea later this week with some pleasant music, say, the eighties playing in the background, where I should have said ‘we’re also very pleased that you joined us today, have a good night.” He shrugged. “Terribly sorry. Those two are easy to confuse, aren’t they?” Spitfire raised her eyebrows at him. “You are a bold one.” “Oh, not at all. Like you said, the day—this past week, actually—has been pretty exhausting, and I’m afraid I’ve reached the point where I’m subconsciously telling myself it’s a fair game to be bold. Besides, should you decline my invitation, there’s a good chance I’ll wake up tomorrow and not regret a thing, putting the blame on my current disability to think clearly. Or something like that. Better yet, I’ll blame Fizzy for planting the idea of going out with someone in my head.” “Hmm. I thought the usual line was about coffee, not tea.” “It’s been following me since morning, to be honest. I intended to get my cup at the Cuckoo. I kind of got it, but then Soft Spot decided she doesn’t actually like coffee, so we swapped,” he said. “They make the second or third best coffee in Canterlot, don’t get me wrong, but it doesn’t really work as a pick-me-up for me,” he added. “So, what do you say?” Spitfire looked away and took another step towards the exit. “Well, you’ve already made me give up a free hour in my busy schedule today”—she looked back with coquettish sparks flaring in her eyes—“which means you pretty much owe me one of yours.” The stallion’s upper lip twitched. “I promise to repay you threefold.” “Friday?” “Friday it is. I’ll contact your office with further details, captain.” “Please,” she said with a frown, “I’ve been captaining all day.” “Spitfire, then?” “Very much so. Have a good night.” “Good night,” he replied and watched the mare until she disappeared in the corridor. When he turned around with a well-earned smug grin, he saw three pairs of eyes beholding him. “And what are you looking at? Off to sleep, all of you!” He hit the switch on the projector and turned it off.