Chapter 8
What has Rainbow gotten herself into? I, and everypony else in the illegal speakeasy, are staring across the room at the developing showdown.
“You ain’t Pretty Posey! Pretty Posey is my BUCKING MAREFRIEND!” a rather large stallion shouts. “Where did you get that uniform?”
“Oh yeah?” says Rainbow. “How do I know you aren’t an imposter-” she squints at his nametag “-Mr. Cover Closer?”
“That doesn’t even make sense!” he insists.
He’s right. A fight is brewing, and even if Rainbow’s mouth can delay it, it’s still going to happen soon. I glance around. The stallion to my side is hammered. He’ll be no trouble. The ponies gathered around Rainbow have their backs to me. I could zoom across the room and get the drop on them. It would just take one good push with my- Wait, my wings are bound up in this uniform.
I glance around again. The door’s nearby. I just have to figure out how to get Rainbow across the room and through it with me.
There’s a bottle on the bar, one of the ones we had brought as entry fee to the speakeasy. I grab it up and cock my foreleg back.
After a quick flight across the room, the bottle shatters across the back of Cover Closer’s head. Rainbow, not one to stand idly by when there’s violence to be wrought, immediately punches the next closest pony.
I grab the drunk beside me by the collar and throw him into the pony nearest the door. Glancing over my shoulder, Rainbow is on her way across the room, stopping as necessary to punch another face.
The bartender vaults the bar, but on his way down, I intercept him and toss him back. Then, Rainbow is beside me and we bolt for the door.
Of course, that’s not the end of it, not by a long shot. The speakeasy patrons know this seldom-traveled part of Celestia’s Assistant a lot better than a couple of pilots do. We might be fast, but if we hit a dead end, we will be thoroughly bucked.
“You just had to blow our cover,” I pant to Rainbow as we run.
“Nah, blowing Cover Closer was the real Pretty Posey’s job,” she quips.
I get half a laugh out, trip, and barely regain my balance. For revenge, I reply, “Where are we going? Why does Celestia’s Ass have to be so big?”
Rainbow snorts and stumbles as we reach some stairs. We’re still ahead of the angry mob, but the stairs slow us down. They’re well within sight, and still coming.
At the top of the stairs, I have a fraction of a second to decide which way to go. A hatch a few feet away begins to open and I dive for it. Too bad for whoever is on the other side, but the element of surprise favors whoever seizes it first.
It’s Spitfire. Also, like a dozen military police. Too bad I’m already committed to the maneuver.
I probably look completely ridiculous bowling over my commanding officer and a bunch of cops. I hope Rainbow enjoyed it.
I hope LD enjoyed taking a free shot at the skipper. Regardless of who they are and whether you think they actually deserve it, an opportunity like that is once in a lifetime.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Spitfire demands, getting up and glaring. Her gaze swings to me, too. That’s when I realize both LD and I are wearing stolen uniforms, have grease in our manes, and are being followed by a crowd of drunken and possibly murderous sailors.
“Illegal booze,” LD blurts. She waves her hoof back the way we came. Since that is also kind of pointing at me, I make sure I wave my hoof the same direction, just so everypony knows that she meant something beyond me.
“Yeah!” I chime in. “We were running from some kind of smuggling ring.”
“They’re getting everypony drunk. Some of them can’t do their jobs,” says LD.
“Some of them like the guy who almost got me killed when my jet broke the other day,” I add.
Spitfire’s raw anger has cooled, but her eyebrows are still twisted up. She glances between the two of us. “Why are you here? Why are you dressed like that?”
Lightning Dust looks at me and I look at her.
“We were kidnapped!” I blurt. “We found out too much and they grabbed us. They put us in disguises so nopony would know we were here.”
“Right!” LD quickly adds. “Check us, we’re the only ones who aren’t drunk.”
Spitfire gestures and the cops rush forward. They go down the stairs and I can hear them laying the smack down on some drunken sailors.
“We managed to escape and we were on our way to find you or anypony that could help,” I say to Spitfire. “This alcohol smuggling ring needed to be stopped before somepony got hurt or worse.”
“The other skippers have been talking,” she says. “We all suspected there was something like this going on, but I never would have thought it would be so organized. You both deserve medals for figuring it out.”
LD and I trade grins.
“But,” says Spitfire, “You both deserve to be court martialed for being in this up to your ears, so let’s call it a draw.”
I can feel the puff go out of my chest. But hey, not getting a court martial is pretty good too.
“Get back in the uniforms you rate and I’d better never hear of either of you doing anything like this again,” says Spitfire. She turns to go.
“Ma’am,” calls LD. “How did you know where to find us?”
Spitfire turns. The tiniest smile comes to her mouth. “I was a junior officer once too, you know.” Then, she walks away.
I walk over to my roommate. “Wow....just wow.”
“You said it,” she replies.
We get back to our room and take off the borrowed uniforms. We both take a moment to just breathe and think.
“Does it piss you off that this is the most exciting thing you’ve ever done in the military?” LD asks after a moment.
“Yeah, a little.” I nod. “I thought combat would get my heart pumping, but no, we had to find something else to do.”
“War does not live up to the hype,” she says, shaking her head.
“I don’t know, it’s not so bad. I get to hang out with you.” Yeah, I know, kind of sappy by my standards. I used to be one of the Elements of Friendship, sue me.
She turns and smiles. “Thanks. I really like being with you, too.” She leans closer, kissing me on the lips.
“There’s nopony else around, you don’t have to act that way,” I say.
She frowns. “What? I thought… Aren’t we together now? After everything we’ve been through.”
“I’m not gay.” I frown. “Are you? Did you think I was?”
“You’re...you’re not?” LD stutters. “I just thought...it’s the Navy. Everypony’s gay. You...I thought we had something.”
“Nope, not me. Sorry.” I shook my head.
Then, I grinned. “But I’d still do you.”
“I love war!”
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- totallynotabrony · 13k words · 29 2 · 613 views
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The relationship is doomed
7594190 It's not a relationship, it's casual sex.
7594282
Sure, until someone gets pregnant. Then it's no longer causal.
7594290 Well, aside from both of them being female, these two might relish an excuse to go home.
7594520
After seeing the kinds of magic Twilight and Starlight through around, I've come the conclusion that nothing is impossible in magical pony land
She's listening to Village Ponies too much.
7596338
I'm sure, somewhere, there's a pony named Seven Seas who hates that song.
7604030
Totally. On a side note, I once thought that Seven Days in Sunny June was a tantric sex clopfic with an OC named Sunny June...
Oh God. It's turned from esoteric jet-posting into esoteric Bendy-posting.
It might cost billions and will ultimately doom western civilization, but gosh darn it you get to be gay! Roll credits!
8053807 Glad to be of service. I laughed along with your comments.
8053825 Fantastic work on this. I'm going to look into your other works. However low the rating, this story demonstrated a steely-eyed veteran writer's approach to style and tone that is impossible to fake. I can't praise it enough. Not surprised at all at your high story count.
Funny description of Airforce facilities. (Funny as in ha ha) If the Equestrian base was a likeness to Balad, Halliburton owned it, KBR managed it, Russians maintained living and dining quarters, third world personnel cleaned and cooked for it. So yes Navy had problems finding the four 55 gallon urns marked "Coffee, Coffee, Strong Coffee, and Decaf ". (I have no idea what Decaf was doing in a war zone) First they were thrown off by the five star restaurant feel, next it was very close to Top 3 NCO territory (even officers were afraid of that area) (looked like a zebra holding pen) and most of us Top 3 were knuckle dragging grease and ground pounding older than dirt guys. So they usually hit the urns in the service line. (One sock water Coffee). Now to the separate latrine facilities commonly known as Cadillacs. Double trailers with the central wall removed. Sinks to the left, showers the right, and toilets at the end. Most were very clean because the third world maintenance guy practically lived there. Hot water was never a problem. The water holding tanks sat outside in 123 degree heat all day and they fed two water heaters in the Cadillacs. It is my opinion that Airforce should be in the rear with the gear, but we were 40 miles north of Baghdad in what was now called Mortaritaville (a minimum of 3 a day whether you wanted them or not). So I have no problem with Airforce having 5 star wartime facilities. Hope this gave you a laugh and some insight into what the "Chairforce" was like in Iraq.