The Last Cutie Mark Crusader

by Jatheus

35 - Games, Part 5 of 11

Duster labored for each breath. High altitude flying meant thinner air, and it was almost impossible to breathe at three-thousand two-hundred yards up. By the look of every face he could see, nopony else was in any better shape. Leading this mad flight was Sissy, Captain Sparklefly. She still seemed completely unshakeable in anything she did, but that only made Duster push all the harder to try to keep up with or surpass her. His lungs burned, screaming for air, but all he could do was maintain pace with the others and keep his breaths as deep and even as possible.

Apple Loosa was practically a small speck beneath them, and as for the timberwolves, they couldn't even be seen but for their sheer numbers. They looked like a feature of the terrain, as if some vast desert lay below. The warmth of the sun helped at first, but the air was so thin that it held no heat and stole their warmth. As they continued, the sun was baking from above while they were freezing from below. Duster would have laughed at his goggles beginning to frost on the edges had not the temperatures extremes been so uncomfortable.

This raid was a final attempt to draw the timberwolves together and toward the retreating Assault Corps, according to the briefing. Fly high overhead, drop on them fast and hard, and then retreat to their position near Hayseed Swamp. It had seemed simple enough, but nopony had mentioned how miserable the first step would be. Cold was biting and the sun burning, but everypony was silent as they flew in a rather spread-out formation.

Duster had heard rumors that their forces which had moved north to counter the enemy had been completely annihilated. He knew better than to trust any such tall tales at face value, but it was an upsetting thought. The stallion shivered from the cold and focused on the mission. Quickly scanning about, there was still nothing to threaten them at this altitude. They had to be west of Apple Loosa by now, but it was so far beneath them that it was difficult to tell.

It felt like they had been flying high for hours, but Duster knew it couldn't have been longer than one, if even that. Glancing to his right he saw LD keeping formation with stalwart precision. There was no apparent trace of the fear that was rumored to have incapacitated him only weeks before. Whatever had happened, he'd been stripped of rank and was now serving with the rest of the grunts. Rolling Thunder and Featherplume were to Duster's left. She had been one of the drill sergeants while he was being trained to fight. When this operation was mobilized, she'd been put into their squad as commander, even though she and Locknload both held the rank of sergeant. One would have thought that this would have been distressing to Locknload, but he didn't betray any such emotion if he felt it.

Unceremoniously the leading squadrons went into a dive. It was time. When it came to Duster's squadron, he also made the dive, pointing straight toward the ground and rotating a hundred and eighty degrees to be oriented correctly when they pulled out of it. LD, now on Duster's left, still maintained his position with the formation. They picked up speed, faster and faster as they fell. The steadily thickening air was warm, but it rushed by so fast that it was of little comfort, aside from allowing the stallion to catch his breath. Within moments, Duster's goggles defrosted and he could see clearly again. Under no power, he felt that he had stopped accelerating after fewer than ten seconds. At that speed, the entire air corps would be on the ground in a minute, maybe less.

He couldn't remember how many times he'd been in battle, but there was always a shaky feeling right before. This was far preferable to waiting to be attacked, but it was rather unnerving the first few times. By this point, Duster expected it, and brushed the feeling off. He decided to believe that it was the feeling of his body preparing to handle the stress it expected to be under. Halfway there, the ground was coming up fast. Without a word, everypony locked and loaded their crossbows. Another five seconds gone, and the shakiness was already fading. Everything seemed in slow motion as they plummeted toward the ground, nearly four-thousand strong.

Just as he drew close enough to really see them, Sissy and the lead squadron pulled up sharply to level off. Every wave that followed did the same, all unleashing their crossbows in a blanket upon the enemy. When it was Duster's turn, he did the same. The bolts were cutting through their targets; the timberwolves were piled so thick that it was impossible to miss. They snarled and howled and scrambled amongst the dead.

They were low and fast now, barely ten yards from the ground. Duster, LD, and everypony flying near them followed the plan to the letter. They reloaded and fired a second volley, and then a third as they flew above the mass beneath them. Timberwolves began leaping into the air, but couldn't reach the pegasus formation that was speeding back toward Apple Loosa and the rest of their forces. After the fifth arrow volley, magical attacks began shooting up, punching holes in the formation. Duster saw them fall, but he couldn't help them. He fired his sixth shot in the direction of one of the changelings, but he sped by so quickly that he couldn't determine whether he actually hit or killed it.

As planned, after the sixth shot, the entire formation began gaining altitude again. They had lost most of their speed from their diving maneuver and were now under their own power again as they reached two-hundred yards. Duster loaded his final shot and watched for changelings. Far below, the entire mass of timberwolves was on the move, speeding after them. He could hear shouts of celebration scattered throughout the pegasus formation. LD was not among them; his expression was like stone as he scanned the skies for signs of danger. As far as the eye could see, all of the timberwolves were moving east with a single purpose. The strike team had achieved their first objective; now they just had to rejoin the main force without getting killed.

Comments

[OmalleyCaboose5]

It felt like they had been flying high for hours, but Duster knew it couldn't have been longer than one, if even that. Glancing to his right he saw LD keeping formation with stalwart precision. There was no apparent trace of the fear that was rumored to have incapacitated him only weeks before. Whatever had happened, he'd been stripped of rank and was now serving with the rest of the grunts. Rolling Thunder and Featherplume were to Duster's left. She had been one of the drill sergeants while he was being trained to fight. When this operation was mobilized, she'd been put into their squad as commander, even though she and Locknload both held the rank of sergeant. One would have thought that this would have been distressing to Locknload, but he didn't betray any such emotion if he felt it.

Did LD freak out, not in fear of his own life, which he is willing to sacrifice, but in fear of causing the deaths of his troops, is he just a good soldier not cut out for leadership.

[Jatheus]

8750730
I would say, but LD himself will explain it, coming up...