The Wonderbolt Academy's New Volunteers

by Jay Watson

Ch.20 Wonderbolt Trials Pt.16

Spitfire watched how Firebolt hurried after her partner, desperate to catch up with the hippogriff. She’d seen many flight pairs pass under her watchful eye and knew how to read when a flight pair was having problems, weather obvious and outward or hidden and silently simmering just below the surface. This was a case of the latter. Things had not gone as she’d anticipated with this last trial so to ensure things were going to go right, at least with the two students Rainbow Dash had brought, she would follow after to observe how they would work with the other recruits. She waited a few minutes before making her way over to the Dizzatron, feigning to be working on her notes and making sure the recruits were grouped together before moving.

As the last pair to arrive at the mechanical pony thrower, Firebolt and Silverstream discovered that most of the second recruit group had taken their first runs on the Dizzatron. A good number of them were laying scattered about at the far end of the runway, sprawled out on the ground while groaning and moaning in agony from crash landings and suffering from the nauseating dizziness.

Firebolt and Silverstream joined up with Gallus who was talking with Brightstar and two ponies from the first recruit group, speaking about their turns on the Dizzatron and how intimidating it was for him the first time.

“The first time wasn’t too bad so I’m more prepared for this.” Cross Wind watched along with the other recruits as the nightmarish machine slowly wound up and then flung its lone pony occupant off into the sky. It was surreal for them to watch; well aware that in a few minutes that each of them were going to be sent helplessly flipping through the air like a rag doll.

“Second recruit group are to set a baseline recovery time for the records, first recruit group have to surpass your previous times by at least one-tenth of a second in order to pass this trial.” Wonderbolt High Winds reminded them again, seeing a few more stragglers finally joining the group.

For Cloudy Sky, standing among his friends and watching other recruits get sent careening through the air, he was not looking forward to this experience again.

“A whole tenth of a second?” He muttered more to himself then to anyone around him as he watched.

It might as well be a whole minute! Cloudy Sky worried about making it back in time like required. The mare he was watching struggled terribly to stay upright as she headed back, unable to fly steady or smooth. With this trial, unlike his flying in formation which was subjective in scoring, his battle was with a stopwatch; an unrelenting mechanism for measuring time that would tell him whether he was good enough or not, regardless of how he felt about it inside.

“Here they come; wonder if they are going to make it in time.” Nightflight pointed out to the incoming flyer who was back but was barely in control of their flying and zigzagging wildly as they approached.

“Better step back, this may not be pretty.” Brightstar gave warning and took a few steps back, encouraging other to do likewise. The group made room along the edge of the runway and witnessed another recruit about to lose control as they overcorrected their angle of approach for a proper landing.

“On dear!” Silverstream covered her eyes with her talons, watching just long enough to witness the recruit’s hooves make contact with the ground and then see the recruit’s body go catapulting forward from the excessive forward momentum and begin to flip end-over-end.

After that, she didn’t want to see. Silverstream’s imagination was able to fill in the blanks of what was happening with the sound of that pony body going skidding and tumbling along on the unforgiving ground, only to collide into the pile of recruits languishing about in at the end of the tarmac.

Silverstream finally looked again, seeing now that almost half of the second recruit group was crumpled up on the ground and only a few recruits managing to make it through still standing upright.

“Geez, that had to hurt.” Nightflight was cringing at the sight as the pile of fails grew from the second recruit group.

“I’ll bet.” Brightstar looked at the pile of pony bodies and could only imagine the agony some of them must be in. But when she turned to look at Firebolt and Silverstream, something caught her attention about them. She saw this look of restrained agony and desperation on Firebolt’s muzzle and whose attention was solely focused on Silverstream. But Silverstream seemed to either oblivious as heck or outright ignoring Firebolt’s anxious want of her attention.

Something’s amiss here. Brightstar didn’t need to have a PHD in friendship to see there was a problem between the two of them. She was about to ask what was up with them but caught herself, rethinking the idea.

No, I’ll wait until were done here and then ask afterwards. No need to get some pony upset while there was a trial to take of first.

The other BFFs were too enraptured in the spectacle before them to notice the silent tension between Silverstream and Firebolt. When Firebolt caught Brightstar looking at her, appearing like she was just this side of an emotional meltdown right there, the fiery-maned pony quickly turned her head away from Brightstar’s sight, trying to hide her guilt. Firebolt shuffled away from her friends to stand closer to the few remaining second recruit group and not so close to Silverstream, trying to avoid potential questioning by Brightstar.

“You recruits aren’t going to make it if that was your best! The Dizzatron’s on the lowest setting and you can’t make it one time through?” High Winds leaned into the second group of recruits that were starting to get back on their hooves after crashing out like they had, being visibly disappointed that so many recruits of this group couldn’t handle the Dizzatron.

“Oh, I’m so going next! I’ll show’em who’s goin’ to be the best and get in to this school!” Cross Wind marched confidently forward, determination burning in his eyes.

“So headstrong!” Flitterwisp sighed and shook her head a little, unable to get her friend to not take every remark as personal. She and Cross Wind had been talking with these first group recruits who’d already taken a first series of tries on the Dizzatron for the past few minutes. She hoped to glean some insight or help from these more experienced flyers.

“You don’t think he’s going to do well?” Silverstream could see this mare was genuinely concerned, wondering if they were partners.

“Are you kidding? He’d demand the Dizzatron be set to maximum speed just to make his point.” The pale red stallion standing next to Cloudy Sky explained with a small roll of his eyes. “Cross Wind isn’t exactly what I’d call the ‘shy and retiring’ type. He lives for a challenge.”

“That’s because he’s so reckless, Redwing.” Flitterwisp flicked her wings with nervousness as watched her friend jump into the Dizzatron’s seat and pull down the goggles over his eyes.

“He seems sure of himself, alright.” Nightflight recognized that look of sheer determination in many a pony’s eyes, focused on showing every pony here how good they were.

The Dizzatron gave groan as its flywheel began to turn from a dead stop, steadily winding up until reaching correct launch speed.

“Release!” High Winds ordered and the machine sent the recruit sailing out of the seat and into the sky. Cross Wind forced his wings out to slow himself down, the howling and raging wind pushed back on his wings terribly, straining his wing muscles.

Cross Wind bit down on his lower lip, taking the pain as the strain on his wings was reaching his limit of endurance. He started to flap his wings, forcing his body to first slow more and then let his body roll his to his left, letting the fading momentum from the Dizzatron push him through the ‘turn around’ and set him up to now come storming back to the starting line at breakneck speed.

“Wow, is he’s hustling it.” Gallus watched as High Wind came thundering back towards him and the rest of the recruit group. His eyes glanced over to the instructor, watching Cross Wind and constantly rechecking her stopwatch, prepared to stop the timepiece at the exact moment.

“Too hot… he’s way too hot on his approach. He’s not going to stick the landing.” Brightstar warned of the impending disaster and all of them quickly could see she was right. Determined to set a phonemical time and prove himself to the instructor, Cross Wind was flying at breakneck speed to get back to the finish line.

“He’s not letting up, is he?” Cloudy Sky wondered if Cross Wind was trying to crash himself into the ground.

“Dude, slow up! You’re going to crash!” Redwing yelled out, trying to warn his friend of the impending disaster he was going to make of himself. A recruit not only had to get back to the line but also land properly. A fast time meant nothing if Cross Wind didn’t stay on his hooves.

“I don’t want to see it.” Firebolt actually dreaded seeing the recruit crash, shutting her eyes and turning her head away, dreading the worst. She didn’t want to imagine the pain he was going to be in when he crashed out.

Cross Wind didn’t let up the whole time on his return flight, counting off the seconds in his head and recalling how long to fly at max speed before he had to slam on the brakes.

Four! …Five! …Six!

Cross Wind threw his wings forward suddenly, breaking his speed at the last possible second. It took all of his wing’s strength to do this, his muscles now burning from the strain he exerted on them, forced to perform the feat of rapid deceleration again. Tears now began to form in the corners of Cross Wind’s eyes, the strain surpassing his limit of endurance. And yet, he did not relent. As his hooves hit the runway and skidded some distance, Cross Wind managed to stay upright, the friction of his hooves on the asphalt doing much of the breaking action and slowing his momentum down to a halt some ten or fifteen yards past the finish line.

Still huffing and puffing hard, the ash gray stallion hurried back as quickly possible to the starting line, wanting to hear what his time was from the instructor.

“Nine point eight seconds even; best time so far of your group,” High Winds jotted down the time for this recruit as Cross Wind reared up on his hind legs and thrust a triumphant forehoof in the air. Exhausted as he was, he still had enough left to celebrate.

“Oh, yeah! Who’s the fastest pony here from Baltimare?!” He trumpeted his success, satisfied at being the best of his group.

“But,” High Winds quickly brought him back down to terra firma, “that had to be one of the sloppiest and reckless recoveries I’ve seen all day! This isn’t about racing back to the starting line at breakneck speed; it’s about having the wherewithal of what to do in an uncontrollable flight situation, regain control and land safely and quickly.” She watched the recruit slump his shoulders somewhat, deflated from his self-glory and confidence. High Winds added to her critique, softening his tone a little. “Speed is not your problem; focus more on your flight technique and those landings.”

Cross Wind perked up slightly, responding with a quick salute and a ‘Yes, ma’am,” before returning to his friends, a bit humbler from the correcting by the instructor.

“C’mon, you two. Go take your turns. Then we can go eat, and I’m starving as it is.” Cross Wind poked gently at his friends with a forehoof, half-goading them and half complaining about the stalling.

“Don’t rush me; I’m going.” Redwing was next up. He, Flitterwisp and two others remained from their group before the first group recruits had to take their second turns.

Reluctantly, Redwing flew up to the seat on the Dizzatron and locked the safety bar down in front of him, mentally trying to prepare for this. In seconds, he was in motion as the machine began spinning. The centripetal forces on his body made him nauseous, the sensation of lightheadedness growing with each passing second.

Reaching the desired speed after a good ten seconds or so of winding up, High Winds gave the command.

“Release!” She shouted and the Dizzatron sent Redwing limply tumbling end over end into the sky, completely disorienting the stallion as his head swam painfully from the rushing of his blood. Redwing slapped his eyes shut as he threw his wings open, catching the air and slowing his momentum down. The strain was unbelievable, but he flapped hard against the rushing wind and managed to slow himself down enough to roll to his right and then instinctively start flying back towards the starting line.

He could barely open his eyes, his head throbbing painfully from the dizziness as he forced himself to concentrate and make a decent recovery flight back to the starting line.

“I think he’s going to do okay.” Cross Wind felt a bit of excitement for his friend’s quick recovery and steady return flight.

In spite of the terrible nausea and dizziness he was experiencing, Redwing kept himself steady and successfully crossed the finish line and was able to stay on his hooves when he landed, taking only a couple of extra steps to finally halt his momentum. He walked back over to the starting line, still recovering for the dizziness, to hear what the instructor had recorded for his time.

“Ten seconds exactly.” High Winds logged the stopwatch’s time for this recruit as well as her observations of this recruit’s performance.

Redwing saluted his instructor, wobbling slightly on his hooves back to his friends, blinking his eyes repeatedly and trying to shake his head clear of the dizziness.

“Oh, my head hurts!” Redwing groaned as he held his head with both wings, his pulse throbbing loudly in his ears. He shut his eye again, trying to blot the sensations out.

“It’ll pass in a few minutes so don’t worry.” Brightstar gave him a small pat with her left wing on his back, familiar with that pain when training on the Dizzatron.

Flitterwisp waited for the other two recruits of her group to go before her, procrastinating as long as she could and dreading the experience more after watching said previous duo of recruits both crash out with their recoveries.

“Oh-h-h!” The whimper she made was not loud, but her anxiety was like a roar to the instructor as she passed by High Winds.

“Let’s move it, newbie. We don’t have all day.” High Winds pressed the recruit on, seeing the reluctance to go. She had to keep this trial moving along in order to get everyone done and off to their meal before the C.O. got their scores posted for this afternoon.

Flitterwisp flew up to the seat on the Dizzatron and sat down, locking the retaining bar in front of her. Her friends down below gave her smiles and waves of assurance, wanting her to feel confident. Suddenly the machine gave a shudder as it got into motion.

This isn’t fun! I’ve had fun before, and this isn’t it! Flitterwisp felt the machine’s speed steadily increase, the pressure in her head growing as her ears started to pop. The whore ordeal lasted for ten seconds or so, but to Flitterwisp it felt like an eternity of time.

“Release!” High Winds ordered and the recruit was flung free from the machine. Flitterwisp desperately tried to slow her body’s limp tumbling through the air. She flapped her wings, attempting to slow down but the wind blasting by her only push her wings back against her flanks. She knew it was taking her way too long to recover and she flapped still harder to slow her momentum. Finally, she managed to right herself and in a single fluid motion, turned herself around and headed back to the starting line, but her flying was just as shaky and unsteady as the other recruits who went before her.

“She has to move it; she’s taking too long getting back.” Cross Wind stressed on about his friend’s slow pace, believing she wasn’t going to make the cut.

“It’s going to be close for her.” Redwing hoped she would make it but she was the slowest of the three of them.

Flitterwisp kept her flight just steady and stable enough to get all the way back to the starting line, managing to stay on her hooves when landing but she had unsteady legs, her hooves skidding along the asphalt for a few feet before having to run for a few steps more in order to stop. She was still reeling from the dizziness as she staggered back to the starting line to hear her time.

“Eleven point two-five seconds; the slowest time of those who managed to not crash out.” High Winds read off her stopwatch’s time as she recorded it in the recruit score ledger.

Flitterwisp knew it was a terrible time, pretty sure she was going to get her cut from the tryouts. But to her surprise, Brightstar was first to console her when she rejoined the other recruits who had watched her performance.

“Don’t let it worry you. The first run on the Dizzatron is just to evaluate you for either lead or wing pony assignment for your first flight pairing.” She made sure to put the newer recruit at ease about her time.

“You think so?”

Brightstar nodded. “I’m sure. All of us,” she indicated to her friends near her with a sweeping gesture of a forehoof, “had to do the same evaluations. It’s nothing to get too worried about.”

Her efforts resulted in Flitterwisp breaking out a small smile, feeling supported by Brightstar’s words. “Thanks. That helps.”

Cloudy Sky was glad Brightstar with them for this attempt on the Dizzatron. She was a rock of support and knew what to say to help keep a pony’s chin up when feeling unsure.

High Winds spotted Spitfire, who’d been watching the proceedings from a little way off, heading over to where she stood. She was a bit surprised to see her C.O., now standing in front of her, silently holding out her left forehoof in request of the paperwork. High Winds passed her the scoresheets from the completed recruit group as well as those who’d yet to go.

“Ma’am, is there something wrong with my instructing?” High Winds didn’t understand why her C.O. was taking over. She’d been assigned this duty today.

“I’ll run this trial for the first recruit group. You head back to the classroom building and find Soarin and Rainbow Dash for me. Send them straight to my office when you do; they and I need to go through the scores and have them ready for this afternoon’s trial.”

She saluted her back, still a little confused as to why she was being excused from her duty like this all of a sudden. “Yes, ma’am.” Like a good soldier, she did as ordered, heading for the classroom building to find the team captain and co-captain. Spitfire turned around to now face the recruits. The ponies that crashed out for their first run on the Dizzatron had mustered enough strength to stand up before their C.O., embarrassed by their lackluster performance.

“Second recruit group is dismissed; go hit the mess hall and be ready for this afternoon.” She ordered and the score of first timers headed away from the activity field, relieved to have a break.

“Good luck.” Cross Wind gave them a quick grin and nod, heading off with his friends to a well-earned break.

“He’s going to be a lead pony; I just know it.” Cloudy Sky predicted with some certainty and a touch of envy.

Cross Wind was confident and could fly super-fast. He was everything Cloudy Sky wasn’t. He was marginal at best; Cross Wind was on par with the speed of Silverstream or Firebolt easily. From out of nowhere, over rushed Sunstrike back to the group, back from helping his partner to the infirmary and for his second attempt on the Dizzatron.

“What did I miss? Did she start yet?” He looked about his fellow recruits, seeing all the second group recruits were no longer with them.

Spitfire turned her attention to the operator of the Dizzatron. “Set the machine for normal speed.” She flipped open the scoresheets to these remaining recruits, calling them out for their flights as the attendant to the machine adjusted the speed control.

“Normal speed?” Cloudy Sky swallowed the lump in his throat, fearing how much worse this was going to be for him. He didn’t like it the first time and he was sure he wasn’t going to like it the second time.

“Recruit Amber Haze; you’re up!” Spitfire called out for the first flyer and Amber Haze stepped forward from standing next to Nightflight. She didn’t hesitate to fly up to the launch seat on the Dizzatron and lock herself in, slipping down the goggles over her eyes and ready to go. The machine’s operator switched the speed from slow to ‘normal’, the same speed in which all academy cadets trained at. The large flywheel gave a groan when released from its brake and quite quickly wound up to speed.

Amber Haze knew this was going to be tougher than her first try but the G-forces exerted on her body were much stronger this time around, catching her momentarily off guard from the increased force intensity.

“Release!” Spitfire ordered and Amber Haze went sailing through the air, seemingly out of control. After only a few seconds she snapped open her wings, slowing her momentum and allowing the energy to push her body through a body-roll to her right and she jetted back towards the starting line. She wavered and wobbled only slightly during her recovery but was growing steadier on the return flight as she approached.

“Go, sweetie, go!” Nightflight softly cheered his girlfriend on, trying not to alert the C.O. by being too loud.

Amber Haze made a good showing for herself, crossing the finish line and made a solid landing on her hooves without having to take any extra steps to slow herself down with.

Commander Spitfire jotted down the recovery time before announcing it. “Nine point six seconds, better than two tenths faster than your previous time.”

Amber Haze was so relieved, smiling back at her boyfriend who was very proud with her performance. She’d set a good bar for the others to have to beat and, better still, she wouldn’t have to retake another turn today. Glancing over at Nightflight’s friends, she saw how they were all grinning back at her and making silent ‘rah-rah’ cheers for her too. It was very heartening to feel part of her beau’s circle of friends now.

“You’re dismissed. Be ready for this afternoon.” Spitfire returned the salute Amber Haze gave as the recruit turned to leave.

Nightflight spoke a few words to her as she passed, whispering, “We’ll catch up with you and Solar Flare in a bit.”

She blew him a kiss and winked, letting Nightflight know she heard him. He leered at her. Amber Haze reciprocated with a naughty eyeing of him up and down, as if she was mentally ‘size him up’ like an amusing plaything for her. A small chuckle escaped him.

All his friends saw the exchange between him and Amber Haze, each of them smirking at their behavior. When Nightflight turned around to look at them, he was momentarily confused.

“What?” He shrugged innocently, not fooling his friends in the least. Cloudy Sky was looking off in the distance and whistling to himself, as if to suggest he hadn’t seen anything transpire between Nightflight and Amber Haze at that moment.

“Dude, come off it. Who do you think you’re fooling?” Gallus’ comment was thick with friendly sarcasm, destroying any false illusion Nightflight might have been trying to maintain of seriousness between he and his partner.

Commander Spitfire had seen the exchange as well and sighed a little at the situation. She’d seen this too many times before and it was never a good thing to have during the trials between recruits. It complicated things. One would inevitably get eliminated and the other would come and plead the case of why their ‘special some pony’ shouldn’t get eliminated. First pleas of reconsideration, then angry shouting and then all too often the tears would ensue. And in the end, ultimately was a broken heart in more ways than one, and another heart continuing on. Sometimes it worked out, sometime not. She still carried on with this trial.

“Recruit Nightflight; you’re up!”

Best not to keep the two lovebirds apart for too long. Loverboy here looks like he’s ready. She momentarily mused over what was going to happen should it all come crashing down for these two like she’d seen in other similar situations.

As coolly as he could, Nightflight flew up to the seat on the Dizzatron, got in and sat sown, bringing the retaining bar down in front of him and locking the bar in place. The machine once more went into motion, winding up to the correct speed.

“Release!” Spitfire ordered and watched how Nightflight went sailing off like many before him. But he was quick to throw out his wings and catch the rushing air, flapping as hard as he could to slow himself. A quick body roll to his left and he was diving right back for the starting line. His recovery was good, flying solidly and gaining speed as he flew.

Nightflight crossed the finish line and touched down, his hooves screeching briefly from the friction as he came to a quick stop, his long silvery-white mane whipped free from the ‘ponytail’ twisty-tie he preferred to keep it in. He was sure of having a low recovery time and didn’t go rushing back to the C.O. to find out what it was like some first-timer.

“Nine point five-six seconds; better than one tenth faster than your previous time. You’re dismissed.” Spitfire returned the quick salute he gave and watched as Nightflight hurried away, eager to catch up with Amber Haze.

“Recruit Cloudy Sky, you’re next.” Commander Spitfire watched as each of this recruits’ friends reached out to touch his flanks with a wing as he stepped forward from among them, as if to impart luck and courage for him to face the challenge alone.

Without looking at his C.O., fearing he’d give away how nervous he really was, Cloudy Sky flew up to the launch seat and got in, locking the retaining bar down in front him. Pulling his goggles down over his eyes, he braced himself for the inevitable.

You can do it, Cloudy! Silverstream silently cheered him on; sure, all her friends were silently doing much the same. This was on him now. They couldn’t help him this time.

Cloudy Sky tried to stay calm, feeling his breathing becoming shorter and quicker with the anticipation, then suddenly…

Rumble!

The machine gave a shudder, and he could feel the giant flywheel suddenly free of its brake and then the engine engaging, that distinctive whine the gears made as the machine wound up to speed filled his ears. The G-forces started pushing against his body, pinning him to one side of the launch seat as the intensity grew. His ears started to pop.

Sweet Luna’s moon, it’s worse than before! I so hate this! Cloudy Sky snapped his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, the spinning world around him was too much to experience along with the pressure being exerted on his body. The launch out of the machine could not come soon enough for him with the retaining bar unlocking and allowing his body to be ejected. Limp and loose like boiled spaghetti noodles, his body went undulating end over end with his legs flailing about wildly from the rushing wind.

“C’mon-n-n, Cloudy! Flap! You’ve got to slow yourself!” Gallus softly pleaded, his friends standing close to him feeling the same right then.

Brightstar shook her head a little, disappoint growing. “He’s not reacting fast enough; he’s not going to get back under time.” She could see he was in trouble, unable to right himself and get the wind under his wings fast enough for a recovery. She really hoped he would’ve been strong enough to last through both morning trials, aware how tough these were going to be for him.

“He’s struggling so badly!” Silverstream watched helplessly as Cloudy Sky desperately tried to right himself and fly steadily.

Faster! Must flap faster! Cloudy Sky flapped his wings as hard as he could, his wing muscles burning with the strain as he slowed down enough to finally gain control. As quick as he could, he pitched his body over to the left and pointed himself near vertically down towards the ground and pumped his wings hard to pick up speed, then tucking them tightly against his sides and raising his legs up against his body, proceeded to fall out of the sky like an arrow.

Watching along with the BFFs were Sunstrike, Snowblossom and Rainsong, all still waiting for their turn on the Dizzatron. It was Snowblossom who got their attention when calling out what Cloudy Sky was attempting.

“Oh, don’t tell me he’s doing a dive bomb to make up the time?! Don’t try it, kid, you’re not going to make it!” All of Cloudy Sky’s friends now looked at Snowblossom.

“What are you talking about?” Gallus kept one eye on Cloudy Sky and another on Snowblossom.

“He’s thinks he can make up some recovery time by using it, pretending like he’s attacking a target right below him.” She looked back up at Cloudy Sky’s breakneck descend, still picking up speed as he fell. “He has to pull up now, or he’s going to crash.”

Gallus, Brightstar, Firebolt and Silverstream went instantly into action, franticly waving their forelegs at him, trying to get his attention, trying to tell him to slow down. Sunstrike, Snowblossom and Rainsong followed suit, wanting to help their fellow recruit from hurting himself, seeing him plummeting out of the sky like he was.

I’m gonna make it! I’m going to beat my old time on the first try! The ground came rushing up to Cloudy Sky, faster than he anticipated. He had to try this, had to push his limits if he wanted to go on. In spite the rushing wind in his ears, he heard a voice cry out to him.

“Cloudy, slow down!” Firebolt cried out as loud as she could, jumping into the air and hovered above the heads of her friends, franticly waving at him. There was a real moment of fear of Cloudy Sky not hearing them or seeing them. But Firebolt’s warning had carried to Cloudy Sky’s ears.

Cloudy Sky only glanced off to the right to see every pony down below waving and hopping about excitedly. It was a split second later did he hear Firebolt’s warning and understood why. He quickly shifted his body position and flung out his wings again, tilting them back like he should so as to slow his momentum down and holding them tightly in position no matter how much strain he felt. He also extended out his legs as far as he could, adding more wind resistance to his descending rate and slowing him up more.

“Hey, your friend is doing it; he’s got his body in the right position and his wings aren’t getting pushed back.” Sunstrike didn’t think the youngest stallion in the tryouts knew such a move. Brightstar and Firebolt recognized it too, surprising both of the more experienced flyers.

“He’s slowing! He’s slowing!” Silverstream clapped her talons together excitedly, believing Cloudy Sky was going to slow down in time to recover.

“I think he’s going to make it!” Snowblossom thumped a forehoof against the ground, the tension growing as they all watched Cloudy Sky’s approach. She and the others watched as Cloudy Sky came zooming in, almost too fast.

Oh please…! Oh please…! Oh please…! Cloudy was seconds away from touchdown, his body in position with all of his legs extended out forward and his knees slightly bent to absorb the impact of his hooves with the runway.

Five… four… three…

“Oof!” Cloudy Sky felt some of the air knocked from his body as hooves struck the unforgiving asphalt of the runway, his knees buckling under the stress and the energy from the sudden impact caused him to actually bounce up and perform a complete end-over-end summersault, getting about three meters off the ground as he did. The other recruits gasped loudly, believing he was going to wipe out. But Cloudy Sky was still alert. He kept his wings rigid and in position, still acting like a brake for his sudden forward motion. His hooves hit the runway again and he slid for three or four meters on, screeching loudly as they dragged across the pavement. Finally, he came to a halt, standing there on rubbery legs, shaken up but pleased that he’d managed to stick the landing and didn’t crash. The recruit group exploded with cheers for him.

“Yea, Cloudy! You did it!” Silverstream rushed over to hug and congratulate him, before he even had the chance to hear his time. He was excited and relieved to have made it through, almost laughing at how close he came to crashing out. Brightstar, Gallus and Firebolt also came to congratulate their friend, holding him. Together, they walked over to hear Cloudy Sky’s time from their C.O.

“Nine point nine-two seconds.” Spitfire reported, seeing the various responses.

“Aw-w-w, nuts!” Cloudy Sky thumped both his forehooves against the ground, frustrated by his time.

“But he’s faster than his last time. He passed, right?” Snowblossom thought Cloudy Sky’s time good enough, though she was not aware of his first-time trial.

“It’s the same as his initial time. He’ll have to try again.” Spitfire marked the first time of Cloudy Sky’s try in her records. She could see how the young stallion was vexed by how close he came and the fact he’d have to try again. “Rest up for now, you’ll take another turn when the others are done.” She didn’t admonish the other recruits for their jubilation over Cloudy Sky’s attempt, figuring it would help him more to have his confidence bolstered by them rather than her barking out protocol and keeping them tense.

“Yes, ma’am.” Cloudy Sky would try again. His friends clustered around as they led him away from the starting line, both of Rainbow Dash’s students were at his side to give him the encouragement to do better.

Spitfire made notes in her paperwork at how Silverstream and Gallus were pulling for Cloudy Sky and embodying the spirit of teamwork to help him as much as they could.

“It’s not bad… it’s not bad… you’re still close with that time! You’ll absolutely get it on the next try!” Silverstream was excited for him, her excitement for him evident.

“Keh! You’re practically there already, Cloudy! It’ll be a cinch for you.” Gallus was already sounding like it was a done deal for Cloudy Sky, as if a mere formality to get done. His friends are eager to help him, offering advice and tips on what to do for the next try.

Firebolt and Brightstar demonstrated how he should position his wings better, getting more breaking action without as much stress to his back muscles. Cloudy Sky slowing kept fanning his wings up and down like Firebolt advised, trying to keep the muscles from cramping up and staying loose. It was working. The pain was bearable, and he believed he could get though. He quietly listened to his flight instructors as he did so, taking in as much as he could. Spitfire kept thing moving along.

“Recruit Rainsong, you’re up.” Spitfire checked over this recruit’s performance as she passed by in front of her, reading the notes taken by the team instructors on her strengths and weaknesses in flight. This mare was scoring in the lower third of recruit ranking, struggling in some crucial areas. This run was going to be important for her. She watched the recruit fly up to the seat on the Dizzatron and got herself in, securing the retaining bar in front of her.

“Start’em up!” Spitfire barked out to the machine’s operator and the Dizzatron went into motion, getting up to speed quickly. Around and around the flywheel spun, subjecting its lone occupant to a great deal of G-forces as it did. Spitfire knew how long to keep the recruit under duress before letting go.

“Release!”

Rainsong was flung from the seat and into the sky, her body gyrating wildly about for several seconds. Spitfire kept looking up from her stopwatch to observe the recruit's recovery and return flight. Like many others, it was jaunty and uneven when recovering from the throw and wobbly and unsteady in approach and the recruit tried overcorrecting her flight path repeatedly.

In what must feel like an eternity to Rainsong to reach the starting line, she pushed herself hard flying back and made it across to the starting line in what she hoped was a shorter time then her previous attempt. But she still made somewhat of a rough landing on the runway as her hooves made contact and she slid some distance, enough to be spun around while on all fours to now face in the direction of the C.O. and the other recruits as she slid to a stop. Dizzy and lightheaded, Rainsong stumbled her way back to hear what her time was. Her head was still spinning from the effects of the machine and Rainsong found it hard to keep from wobbling some on her hooves while standing there waiting.

“Nine point seven-five; same as your previous time. You’ll have to re-fly your attempt again.” Spitfire duly reported to the clearly taxed recruit whose jaw now fell open slightly in shock.

“I could’ve sworn I was faster this time.” Rainsong slapped a forehoof to her head, the strain getting to her after the workout she’d gone through this morning already. She’d hoped to get through this on the first try, hating the experience of getting spun around.

“Well, you swore wrong. Best you to go rest up and wait to be called again.” Spitfire wondered if this one was going to make it past today, seeing the extent of flight exhaustion Rainsong was experiencing already. She might have some flight talent, but Spitfire had a feeling this recruit didn’t have the stamina to endure. She jotted down her remarks in the notes section for this recruit.

“Yes, ma’am.” She made a quick salute and rejoined the others, still holding her head with weariness. She commiserated with Cloudy Sky, finding common ground by their duty to take another turn on the Dizzatron. She along with Cloudy Sky got some insights on how to recover more quickly.

Spitfire kept it moving along. “Recruit Brightstar, you’re next up!”

The yellow pony was pulled away in the middle of her explanation to Cloudy Sky and Rainsong when her name was called. She had to leave them.

“Just remember what we told you and you’ll both do fine.” Brightstar gave her mane a quick flip out of her eyes as a breeze blew some of her hair in her face. “Cloudy,” She looked him right in the eyes, holding the younger pony steady with her gaze.

“Yeah?” He looked up at her, wide-eyed and as if looking up at one of those Wonderbolt instructors just then, receiving some great insight.

“I want you to relax while up there and remember to count just like I and Firebolt explained. Do that and you’ll get a good time.” She reached out and put a forehoof on his withers with a smile, making sure to let him know she was rooting for him.

“I will. I’ll make sure to do you and every pony else proud.” He truly meant it, as if making a promise to his leader; his squad leader. For a moment, Cloudy Sky wondered if this was what Wind Raider had mentioned; having a good squad leader you trusted and would follow into combat with.

“I know you will.” She slid her goggles down over her eyes and left him for the Dizzatron, sure he was ready to try again. Without any hesitation, Brightstar flew up to the seat and sat herself down, getting the retaining bar down and latched in front of her. From her vantage point, she could see Cloudy Sky looking back up at her, grinning. He made sure she knew he was ready.

The machine gave a groan, and the flywheel began to turn freely, the brake now disengaged. The drive engine began spinning and Brightstar braced herself for what was coming. The pressure in her head built up and the machine spun her around.

“Release!”

Brightstar felt the retaining bar unlock and her body being ejected up and away. Before her body had even completed a single summersault from the force, she had her wings stretched out and her legs extended wide so as to catch as much wind possible and have maximum resistance to the force against her body.

She counted off the seconds in her head, rolling her body to the right at the correct moment to use the energy of the throw to help send her back towards the starting line.

Brightstar made it look so easy to Cloudy Sky, impressing Gallus as well with her quick moves and speed of recovery.

“I so wish I could fly as fast as her or the others.” Cloudy Sky sighed at the sight of Brightstar making a textbook landing back at the starting line, undoubtedly making a better time than her last try.

“You can, you just have to work at it a little more. That’s all. You’ll do great this time, I’m sure.” Gallus, too, envied Brightstar’s fluid style of flight and how she and most of the others seemed to make it look so effortless. The griffon knew he had a long way to go in flying style and finesse to be as good as her.

“Nine point two-eight seconds; it’s a full two tenths of a second faster than your previous run.” Spitfire was pleased; this group was doing well at setting respectable times. She scribbled down her notes and the time from the stopwatch on the scoresheet. “You’re done; go join the others for chow.”

Brightstar saluted her C.O. and headed off for the mess hall, sure Cloudy Sky and Rainsong were in good company to get through this trial. She would ask about how he did once Cloudy Sky and the others were together eating lunch.

“Recruit Snowblossom, your turn to go!” Spitfire gave her performance profile a quick review, seeing she had done quite well catching up with her partner by being a top scorer for those trials she had missed.

“Wish me luck.” Snowblossom quipped half-jokingly to the others as she headed for the seat on the Dizzatron. No sooner had she sat down and got the retaining bar locked in front of her did the machine come to life and begin turning. She had her goggles down over her eyes in a split second before the wind could whip up and cause her eyes to start tearing.

“Release!” Spitfire hit the timer on the stopwatch as she watched Snowblossom go sailing through the air.

Cloudy Sky and his friends all suspected Snowblossom was an exceptional flyer; she having spent the morning plowing through the earlier trials with the second recruit group and caught up with her partner, Harmony Blues, to perform their first flight routine together like they had.

Snowblossom quickly threw out her wings to catch the rushing wind, slowing down and righting herself as quickly as possible. With a couple of hard shakes of her head to try and clear the persistent dizziness, she rolled her body to the left and started to flap her wings with ever increasing force, steadily picking up speed on her return flight.

Cloudy Sky and his friends watched as Snowblossom streaked towards them, slowing down a split second after crossing the finish line and landing gracefully on her hooves just a few meters past. Snowblossom was panting as she trotted back to hear her time.

“…(pant!) How did I… (pant!) do, ma’am?” Snowblossom flipped up her goggles, blinking a few times to clear her eyes from the sun’s glare.

“Nine point three-one seconds; pretty good for a flyer without a previous time to go by.” Spitfire sounded genuinely impressed by the feat, perhaps underestimating these recruits chosen by her team members for this year’s trials.

Snowblossom breathed a sigh of relief, thankful she didn’t have to take another run on the Dizzatron. This morning had been a very long grind of trials to catch up with the rest of her recruit group. Spitfire looked up from her clipboard to address Harmony Blues. “You’re done for now. Go join the others for chow.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She saluted her C.O. with a grin and headed for the mess hall, her stomach growling a little from its emptiness.

Spitfire called out the next flyer off the clipboard. “Recruit Gallus, you’re next up!” The griffon stepped forward and flew up to the seat on the Dizzatron, slipping the goggles down over his eyes as he sat down. He tried to clear his mind and focus on the job, reaching up to pull the retaining bar down in front of him and latched.

Cla-click! The retaining bar locked the griffon firmly in its hold. Gallus took a quick deep breath and gathered his thoughts.

Okay, this time I’m going to-

But he didn’t have time to complete that thought as the flywheel was freed from the brake and main hub began to rotate. Gallus felt like his head was going to explode from the building pressure of g-forces after only a few seconds of fast spinning.

This sucks! He felt the retaining bar unlatch in front of him and was flung from the machine. Recalling what he’d heard Brightstar and Firebolt talked about, he made sure to count the seconds from launch to when he should extend his wings and try to slow himself.

Three… four… five… Gallus spread out his wings and caught the air, the wind now wrenching back hard on his wing muscles, straining them to their limits. He forced his wings to stay in position, slowing him more and then, with lessening force from the initial ejection, managing to regain some control.

Flap! Flap! Flap harder! Flap harder! Do you want to pass this trial or not?!

His brain screamed, forcing his body to comply in spite of the pain. He bore down to take it until he could at last roll over to his left and dive back down in a mad flight back to the starting line. His friends watched as he flew right back towards the starting line, his speed still increasing with his approach.

“Wow.” Cloudy Sky’s simple opinion pretty much spoke for all of them; witnessing how quickly Gallus recovered.

“Your friend really knows how to fly.” Sunstrike had seen Gallus fly with Solar Flare and was duly impressed with the griffon’s finesse in trick flying. But Gallus’ raw display of all out grit and speed was something else.

Move! Move! Move! Gotta beat that time!

Gallus pushed himself hard, zooming in at a pretty steep angle of flight, pulling up some to level off his flying and cross the starting line at top speed. Exhausted, he stumbled to his talons and paws, barely able to keep up and was forced to on for several meters before he was able to stop his momentum.

I… I made it! I think I beat my old time!

His head was still spinning a bit from the overexertion and his wings were limply hanging at his sides, but he was quite pleased with himself at just how well he’d done. He’d never driven himself hard like that before, not in any of the sport activities at the School of Friendship or back in Griffonstone.

All of the recruits were grinning and stomping their forehooves in a silent ‘hurrah’ for him as Gallus hurried back over to where their C.O stood and awaited to hear his time. Silverstream was aglow for Gallus’ success, seeing how he represented Princess Twilight’s school so well to Spitfire and the other Wonderbolts like this. She wished all of her friends from the school could be here to see him perform like he had.

“Nine point three-seven-five seconds; one-and-a-half tenths of second faster than your previous time. You’re done for now, go hit the mess hall.” Spitfire suspected this student from Princess Twilight’s school might not have been able to withstand the force of the Dizzatron at the ‘normal’ setting, believing he did not have the flight experience or discipline to produce a faster time. Most recruits manage some kind of acceptable time on the lowest setting, but the ones with real stamina and wing power always do better. And this griffon had done that, proving he was keeping up with the others.

Gallus was never so relieved to get this done, only wanting to sit down and try to recuperate some strength. With a limp winged salute to his C.O., the griffon headed off, pleased with his success and eager to tell the others inside the mess hall. Spitfire kept things moving along, calling out the next recruit.

“Recruit Cloudy Sky, you’re first up for a retry.”

She caught the gray stallion momentarily off guard when calling him up before the other two recruits had taken their first flights. Cloudy Sky wondered if this was in purpose. He thought he would go after Sunstrike and Rainsong. But there was no waiting or wondering now.

Cloudy Sky put on his game face and flew up to the seat on the Dizzatron and sat himself down. Once the retaining bar was latched down in front of him, he scooted over in the seat, so his body was already against the right side of the cockpit, just as his friends had instructed him to do. That way he wasn’t trying to hold himself in place in the middle of the seat against the g-forces exerted against his body when spun around.

Commander spitfire gave the machine’s operator a nod and he put the Dizzatron into motion, releasing the flywheel brake and allowing the rotor to spin up to speed.

They watched as the mechanism flung Cloudy Sky once more into the air. Cloudy Sky repeated the same regiment that he’d grilled into his brain after listening to Brightstar and Firebolt’s instructions. And, just as they said, it got a tiny bit easier this time, getting righted and then rolling over to dive down towards the ground. He could feel it, he’d made a quicker recovery this time, sensing he’d shaved off those two-tenths and was going to pass. With a ‘go for broke’ adrenalin rush at tasting success so close, he poured everything he had into getting across that starting line faster than he’d ever gone, maybe even as fast as Gallus had flown.

“I think he’s gonna do it this time.” Firebolt felt the pang of excitement building inside as she so wanted him to get past this trial.

“C’mon, Cloudy! Make it this time!” Silverstream softly cheered on, seeing Cloudy Sky giving it his all.

“He’s one plucky kid for sure.” Rainsong gave Cloudy Sky his due, for one as young as he was and pushing his limits like he was doing impressed her. She watched along with Cloudy Sky’s friends, pulling for the youngest recruit to get it done.

Cloudy Sky’s wing muscles burned fiercely with the strain, making him think he might actually have his wings fall off from flapping so hard. He at last crossed the starting line but couldn’t quite stick the landing again, this time ‘hopping’ back up off the asphalt when his hooves made contact and threw him off balance. He managed to keep his hooves down, recovering from that sudden bounce of coming in too hot and trying to land. His head was dizzy still and his body seamed to quiver from the over-exertion as he took deep gasps of breath, recovering from that shaky landing he’d somehow managed to execute. His wings now hung limply from his sides, twitching slightly from the overexertion. He turned around and made his way over to their C.O. to hear Spitfire read off his time. His friends were, once again, quietly cheering him on as they, too, waited to hear the results.

“Nine point eight-seven seconds; not quite fast enough to pass.”

Cloudy Sky couldn’t hide his frustration, gnashing his teeth and thumping a forehoof against the ground repeatedly.

“Ar-r-r-r-gh!” He fumed some, agitated that, yes, he had recovered faster this time but still not fast enough; a lousy five one-hundredths of a second off! His friends were right there beside him, consoling him and not to lose heart.

“You’re so close, Cloudy! So-o close!” Firebolt knew what Cloudy Sky was feeling right then; the burning frustration, the fiery desire to succeed and win. She was well acquainted with his torment from her experience on the flight competition racing circuits.

“You’ll have to take another flight.” Spitfire saw the look of utter dread on both Silverstream and Cloudy Sky’s faces.

“Another?” Silverstream thought this was boarding on torture. What creature could withstand repeated runs on the Dizzatron like that?

“He has to; all the recruits must surpass their initial evaluation time by a full tenth of a second. That’s the requirement. But whatever you’re doing to help him, keep doing it because his times are going in the right direction.” Spitfire was hard but fair, keeping to the requirements to pass but willing to offer up praise when it was due. She watched as Firebolt and Silverstream led Cloudy Sky away from the starting line, coaching him on what he might want to try for his next attempt.

“Recruit Rainsong; you’re next up!” As the recruit mare passed by her, Spitfire checked her watch, noting there was less than twenty minutes left before the call went out for chowtime and the end of the morning session. She wanted to get these last ones done and get back to her office and call a meeting with her team and team captains.

Rainsong flapped her wings, and she fluttered up to the waiting seat on the Dizzatron, already feeling the apprehension within her grow at the thought of getting her brain scrambled once more. If she wanted to go on, she had to do this.

Ca-click! The latch locked the retaining bar in front of her, now just moments away from the spinning. No sooner had she flipped her goggles down over her eyes was the great machine once more was released and the rotor begin to spin yet again. Cloudy Sky didn’t watch Rainsong’s turn on the Dizzatron; he sat next to Silverstream and leaned against her for support, his eyes closed and steadily breathed in and out, trying to recuperate some strength for another attempt.

“Release!” Spitfire ordered and Rainsong went tumbling through the air. Of the flyers of this recruit group taking a second turn, she expected this one to beat the time listed on the scoresheet from the last attempts. He eye was on the smallish gray stallion who was resting close by.

Rainsong knew she had to do better this time. Her going forward in the trials really depended on her performance here. She didn’t wait nearly as long as on her first Dizzatron run before throwing open her wings to catch the air whipping past her, straining the muscle in her back like never before.

More! Flap more! Have to slow down and get back in time! Rainsong struggled mightily to right herself quickly, the force from the Dizzatron’s launch so much stronger on her tiring body as it was. Digging deep, she found the strength to get righted up and then twist her body to the right so as to point her body down to the ground. Rainsong was running on pure instinct, flapping her wings with abandon to pick up speed and make it back in time.

The five recruits watched as Rainsong came roaring in at a breakneck speed, some of them wondering silently to themselves if she was going to beat the clock this time. It was a hoof-biter; every flyer waiting and watching with anticipation, hoping and pulling for her to beat the time.

She just made it, crossing the starting line and gliding along with a final flap. Her hooves hit the ground and went sliding for several meters before stopping. She collapsed somewhat, her knees giving out from the strain, but she did not fall off her hooves from the exhaustion. Sunstrike came to her aid, helping her up.

“Did…(pant!) …I… (pant!) …do it?” She gasped for air, so overexerted from the effort she needed help to stand up. Sunstrike had to almost hold her up and lead her back over to where Commander Spitfire waited to inform her. Rainsong felt a mixture of excitement and dread all at the same time. She prayed she’d beaten the time requirement and believed she’d recovered more quickly but still harbored some doubt and dreaded the idea of doing yet another turn.

Spitfire kept the recruit in a few seconds suspense, looking over Rainsong’s scores in her trials so far before finally writing down the time officially on the scoresheet. She gave the pencil in her mouth a sharp crack at making a period in her scoring, as if to suggest some kind of finality in her writing. “Recruit,” She looked over her sunglasses to the limp mare barely standing on her hooves in front of her.

“Yes… (pant!) … ma’am?” Rainsong was desperate to keep her head up, not wanting to let on just how fatigued she really was. A smile slowly emerged on Spitfire’s mouth, breaking the moment of tension.

“Nine point six-five seconds; one-tenth of a second faster this time. You’re done for now so go rest up and hit the mess hall.”

Rainsong had never felt such relief. She gave an exhausted laugh and a smile of gratitude and a salute to Spitfire, still trying to stand on her wobbly legs. Sunstrike stayed close by incase she fell over.

“Yes, ma’am!” She turned to face the remaining recruits still waiting, “I’ll see you guys in the mess hall; we’ll catch up.” She headed away, a little surer footed with each step as she had recovered enough to no longer need aid from Sunstrike.

“Recruit Snowblossom, You’re up!” Spitfire called on the pearly white mare who she did not hesitate to fly up straight away to the seat on the Dizzatron and get right in, locking herself in with the retaining bar. The machine rumbled to life again, beginning to spin Snowblossom around and around, the speed increasing with each revolution.

“Release!” The C.O. had counted off the ten seconds before giving the command and started her stopwatch.

Spitfire and the others watched as Snowblossom made an excellent recovery, quickly getting her wings extended out to catch the wind and slow her momentum. She made it look so easy as she righted herself, pitching her body at a steep angle down towards the ground and darting back to the starting line.

Cloudy Sky looked up just in time to see Snowblossom zooming across the starting line and execute a perfect textbook landing. He and his friends were impressed by her flight technique and obvious skills. She turned to face the C.O, eager to hear her time.

“Nine point three seconds even; well done.” Spitfire said it so matter-of-factually that it took a second or two for the remaining recruits to take in how good Snowblossom had done.

The steady thrum-thrum of hoof stomps against the ground sounded off in congratulations for Sonwblossom’s great performance. Again, Spitfire didn’t admonish the recruit for cheering on his fellow flyer. So close to the end of this trial it was that saying anything was moot.

Snowblossom was so relieved to have done as well as she had, not wanting to lag behind and do this trial over again. “Thank you, ma’am.” She saluted her C.O. properly, trying not to smile with self-satisfaction.

“You’re dismissed. Go grab a bite to eat and be ready for this afternoon’s regiment.” Spitfire continued to write more down on her scoresheet about this recruit as Snowblossom made her departure.

“Come find me; let’s talk more. ” She silently mouthed the words to Silverstream and her friends as she left, doing a good job at making sure Commander Spitfire didn’t spot it. She discovered Silverstream and her friends were an interesting and eclectic group of flyers, more curious about why she and her griffon friend had come to the trials and wondered what they thought of being here.

“Recruit Sunstrike, you’re up!” Spitfire had rearranged the running order so as to allow Cloudy Sky the most amount of time to rest up. She figured having his two friends with him would help bolster his chances to pass.

In spite of having a wounded and most likely exiting partner with Morning Glow, Sunstrike had his mind focused on beating his previous time. He didn’t hesitate at flying up to the seat of the Dizzatron and getting in, determined to make up for that ‘Incomplete’ grade. No sooner he had the retaining bar locked down in front of him did the machine started up; the flywheel free from the brake and steadily increasing in rotor’s speed.

“Release!” Commander Spitfire ordered and Sunstrike, too, went flinging through the air. Like Snowblossom who went before him, Sunstrike didn’t wait long before throwing out his wings to catch the wind and slow himself. It put a terrible strain on his wing and back muscles, but Sunstrike powered on with his flapping, slowing his momentum enough to suddenly twist his torso over to the right and dive back down towards the ground and the starting line.

It was probably the fastest recovery Cloudy Sky and his friends had seen done by any recruit here, making Firebolt believe that Sunstrike could match Silverstream’s record-setting recovery time.

Sunstrike swooped in, diving right towards the ground and pulling up just in the nick of time to head for the starting line like a rocket. He jetted passed the painted line on the asphalt, then jammed his hooves down and into the hard surface to slide along for only a short distance, his sturdy legs bracing his body from the forward momentum. He spun around at the end of his slide, standing proud on his hooves as he waited to hear his time, sure to have done fantastic.

“Eight seconds flat; that’s a whole second and two-tenths off your initial time and the best time today.” Spitfire recorded his time and Sunstrike threw a forehoof in the air in celebrating his phenomenal performance.

“Boom! There it is: the best time today! Who’s getting into the Wonderbolt Academy? Me!” He tooted his horn some, justifiably proud of his score. He needed this; top time here would offset that ‘Incomplete’ grade.

“You’re dismissed; hit the mess hall and be ready for later.” Spitfire turned her attention to the final recruit, ignoring Sunstrike singing to himself in congratulations as he walked off the field and towards the mess hall.

“It’s your turn now, recruit.” Spitfire’s attention turned once more to face the recruit, speaking kindly to him, well aware of his predicament and how hard this was for him.

Cloudy Sky barely recovered from his second run and silently fearing his wings were going give out. He’d never felt so exhausted in his life. This was so much harder than he’d ever imagined the tryouts being, feeling woefully unprepared and now at the end of his strength.

“This is it, Cloudy. Just do like Brightstar and I told you and you’ll pass this time.” Firebolt gave him as small hug for good luck, wishing him success. Silverstream, too, wished him luck.

“I know you can do it, Cloudy. I believe in you.” Her words, so honest and pure of intention when she spoke them to Cloudy Sky and looked in his eyes, he knew she meant it from the bottom of her heart. Heartened, Cloudy Sky headed off for the seat on the Dizzatron and got in, pulling down the retaining bar and sliding his goggle over his eyes. Once more he slid over to the end of the seat and braced himself against one side, not trying to hold himself in place at the center against the spinning force.

The Dizzatron gave a small shudder as the brake was released and the flywheel began spinning the rotor up to speed quickly.

Aw-w-w-w-w geesh! Here we go again! Cloudy Sky felt the machine steadily pick up speed, feeling his guts getting squished over to one side from g-forces he felt. Both Firebolt and Silverstream watched with great anxiousness.

“Release!”

Cloudy Sky felt the bar in front of him unlock and his body being ejected again from the seat. The sudden air pressure slamming against his body when being launched from his seat knocked the breath from his body. Flipping through the air, trying to catch his breath, Cloudy Sky struggled trying right himself and get flying back to the starting line.

Have to slow down more! Have to slow down more! He knew he had to move more quickly, sensing he was taking longer than he had the two previous times. His whole body ached with pain; his wing muscles were burning from the strain he subjected them to. He managed to slow himself down enough to roll his body to the left.

C’mon! C’mon! Move faster! Half blinded by the pain and the sheer will to finish this trial, he was darting straight for the starting line with everything he had. It seemed to take forever to reach his goal, but Cloudy Sky made it across, his hooves touching down but his legs were unable to hold him up and he slumped into a pile onto the ground in total exhaustion.

The girls rushed to his side, ever so gingerly helping him up. He was limp and lifeless in their forelegs, panting and gasping for breath as the thick beads of sweat rolled down the sides of his head.

“You made it, Cloudy!” Firebolt held him up by putting his right foreleg around her neck. His head rolled loosely on his neck, flopping over and resting on her withers, panting. Silverstream did likewise, helping to keep her friend upright.

“That was a great recovery!” Silverstream looked up at their C.O., wondering what his time was and hoping it was enough. Cloudy Sky managed to lift his head to look up at their C.O. and hear his results.

“Nine point nine seconds; you’re going to have to fly it again.” Spitfire watched as Cloudy Sky slumped down once more, groaning, while his two friends tried to keep him on his hooves. Spitfire had seen this numerous times during academy tryouts. This recruit was at his end; having given his all but wasn’t going to pass the trial. The friends try to rally him on.

“C’mon, Cloudy, you can do it. You’re still close.” Firebolt could feel he had nothing left in him as she tried to keep Cloudy Sky on his hooves, his body seemingly limp to her efforts at this.

“But now I’m further behind!” There was growing despondence in his voice, as if teetering on the edge of giving in to defeat. Those eight-one-hundredths of a second might as well have been eight whole seconds to overcome. For the first time in the past three days, Cloudy Sky believed his chance to attend Wonderbolt Academy was slipping away right before his eyes. He felt powerless from stopping it from happening and it scared him.

“Firebolt’s right, you’re still really close. I know you have it in you to beat the time.” Silverstream was afraid of him getting cut, having sat and talked with her friends at mealtimes about why he wanted to go to the academy so much and how Cloudy Sky wanted to make his family proud, if not the whole town of Nimbusville.

Spitfire stepped towards the trio, her heart going out to the young stallion for trying as valiantly as he had. The normally tough expression she always wore softened some when she spoke again. “You want to give up, son?”

“No-o-o!” He cried in desperation, as if to surrender the dream now and so close to success was too painful to even contemplate.

She knew it was going to be his answer, they always say no to her when asked; a recruit who hits the wall. ‘They fly with too much heart and not enough wings’ as the saying went when evaluating a flyer for the academy. She had a soft spot for the underdogs like him who always gave that extra twenty percent of effort, much more than those with the flight experience resume’s a mile long and trophies galore to show as proof of their greatness.

Cloudy Sky began to break down, feeling his lower lip start to quiver and fighting back the tears. He half-stomped a hind hoof in utter desperation of his situation, his confidence slipping.

“C’mon, Cloudy, you can do this. You have to believe in yourself.” Silverstream felt his body tremble slightly as she held him, thinking he was giving up on himself. She recalled something Professor Dash once said during one of her classroom discussions when learning about the Wonderbolts.

‘Great flyers know it’s all about believing in yourself. Flying is thirty percent skill and seventy percent confidence.’

“But I don’t understand, Silverstream!” He blurted out. “I’m doing everything Solar Flare and Brightstar taught me to do! I’m sitting all the way over to one side in the seat; I’m counting the seconds after release to when I need to spread out my wings to slow down better and how to roll by body into the dive! I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong!” His frustration clear to all three ladies.

Spitfire double-checked her watch. “Well, there’s ten minutes before the call goes out for chow time and officially ends this trial.” She got all three of them to look up at her. “I’ll give you nine of those minutes to rest up before you have to take your last run. After that,” she gave Cloudy Sky a warning look, “pass or fail, it goes in the logs. Understood?”

Both Silverstream and Firebolt could not believe the generosity their C.O. was offering Cloudy Sky. She was hard on them, yes, but also being fair by giving a struggling recruit every opportunity to try their hardest.

Cloudy Sky was thankful for the offer and could still offer a weary salute to her with his right wing.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She stood apart from the three of them, rechecking her notes and updating some with more she learned of this particular clutch of close-nit flyers. Both the hippogriff and the griffon were scoring well so far and making apparent successful inroads with the other recruits. Rainbow Dash’s two students were making the tryouts most auspicious with their presence. Her solitude was broken as Angel Wings came flying over, landing and saluting her as she withdrew the clipboard from under her left wing.

“Ma’am, High Wind has both Rainbow Dash and Soarin waiting in your office as per your orders and collected the scorecards from the second recruit group as well.” She passed to her C.O. the clipboard with the relative paperwork for her to sign. “These are this season’s trial requisition forms as well as the first draft for tomorrow’s duty roster for you to view. If you would just sign there…” Angel Wings pointed to the dotted lines for the C.O. to autograph, another duty at keeping the academy functioning day to day.

The two ladies had gotten Cloudy Sky to stand back on his hooves again, helping him to recover what strength he could and settle him down. Firebolt fell back on some training techniques from her time participating in flight competitions and shared what she knew with her teammate.

“Follow me; take a deep breath in,” Firebolt demonstrated to Cloudy Sky, taking a deep inhale, “hold it and exhale slowly.” She had him follow the breathing exercise, a way of calming his heartbeat and steadying his breathing. He did just as instructed. Firebolt repeated the exercise.

“Once more time; deep breathe in,” she again took a deep inhale and had him follow along, “hold it, and exhale nice and slow.” She slowly let go of her breath, making sure Cloudy Sky did the same. She had him continue the breathing exercise, having him close his eyes and focus on this.

He could feel it working, the pounding of his heart lessened and the drum-like beating in his ears from his heartbeat quieted some. He kept taking controlled breaths, calming himself and steadying his thoughts.

Firebolt wished he didn’t have to go on the Dizzatron again. He’d clearly demonstrated to all of his friends, the other recruits and the instructors too that he had the guts to take on trials. He proved to be one scrappy young flyer. She didn’t want to see him break down and lose it if he couldn’t pass this trial. It was going to be painful to witness. But she was going to show her C.O. how a good squad leader and friend could show empathy and heart for her struggling teammate.

This situation was, unfortunately, exactly what she had talked with Silverstream about earlier today. Cloudy Sky had lots of heart but just simply wasn’t good enough to pass. Now, sadly, her instincts were going to be proven right. There was nothing more they could do to help Cloudy Sky.

Silverstream gently and slowly flexed his extended wings up and down, making sure his wing muscles didn’t cramp up on him, keeping the blood circulating. She gently flapped her wings too, making a soft breeze to cool his body down with. Cloudy Sky stood in silence with his eyes still closed, keeping his breathing steady, trying to rest as much as he could before the end came. The nine minutes seemed to fly by for as soon as Angel Wings had her forms signed and was heading back to the main office building, Spitfire was walking back over to check on the three of them.

“Cloudy,” Silverstream got him to open his eyes and look at her, “I don’t know if this will help but try holding your breath when you’re getting spun around on the Dizzatron.

“Why?” He wondered.

Silverstream tried to explain, wondering if her personal experience having any relevance to a pegisus pony. “Teramor, my little brother, when he first rode up waterspouts with me as a seapony, he would complain that the water rushing through his gills would cause him to choke and he’d become very dizzy; he couldn’t breathe. So, I told him to hold his breath, it helps cut down on the dizziness sensation when spun in a waterspout. Maybe it will help you on the Dizzatron.”

“I’ll try anything.” Cloudy Sky didn’t know what else he could do to beat that mark; it was worth trying, what else was there to lose. Firebolt’s mouth fell open a little, realizing she’d forgotten about that one simple trick. She was so used to doing that during her flight training that she never mentally thought about it. It was just instinctual for her. She never bothered to ask him if he was holding his breath while getting spun around on the Dizzatron.

Spitfire approached the trio, seeing how this young pony’s two friends faithfully stayed by his sides, doing all they could to make sure he was ready and offering those last words of encouragement.

“You set for this, recruit?” Spitfire was making sure before he submitted himself to another attempt. Four times was a lot for any recruit to take in one afternoon, especially after the rough morning Cloudy Sky already had.

“Yes, ma’am.” He held his head up, some strength returning to his body and his voice sounding clear as he looked straight ahead at the Dizzatron, focused on what he had to do.

“Well, get yourself on up there.” She pointed to the seat on the Dizzatron with a wing, wanting to finish this at last.

Cloudy Sky didn’t look back at Firebolt or Silverstream before going, instead flying right up to the seat and sat himself down, only giving his friends a quick look from up high.

Ca-click! The latch sounded with the lock engaged. As soon as the retaining bar was locked down in front of him the Dizzatron gave a shudder and went into motion. He flipped the goggles over his eyes and sucked in the deepest breath he’d ever held, filling his lungs up and holding it in as the machine sped up to the desired rate. Cloudy Sky could already feel a difference by holding his breath this time; his ears weren’t popping, and the dizziness was much less than the times he went before.

“Release!” Spitfire hit the timer on her stopwatch as she watched Cloudy Sky’s body go flipping through the air, making sure to get this recruits time as precise as possible. It was his last chance and she wanted to make sure.

Cloudy Sky threw open his wings to catch the wind that was rushing all around him and let go of his breath at last. The moment he did, the sheer force nearly ripped his wings off, but he held them out and at the correct angle to get the maximum amount of breaking effect, all while trying to catch his breath.

Silverstream’s trick of holding his breath made the difference. Cloudy Sky felt nowhere nearly as dizzy as his previous attempts and being less dizzy allowed him to right his body much more quickly this time. He pumped his wings hard, breathing deeply and forcing his body to twist to the left and then pointing back down to the ground.

Flap faster! Flap faster! Cloudy Sky could sense he’d recovered this time noticeably quicker this time, by how much he had no idea. But he instinctively felt he was going faster this time and the excitement of passing this trial for real fueled his sudden burst of final energy, the flickering flame of hope within him not yet extinguished.

“Hurry, Cloudy! Hurry!” Silverstream was so swept up in the moment that she stepped out on runway, shouting and waving her forelegs over her head at him so he could see her.

“C’mon! C’mo-o-o-on!” Firebolt softly growled with teeth clenched tightly, thumping the ground with a forehoof as she watched him approach. The brief time of only a few seconds seemed to stretch out to an unimaginable amount as the three of them watched Cloudy Sky fly as fast as he could at getting back to the starting line.

Ow! Ow! Ow! Cramp! Cramp! Cramp! Cloudy Sky felt the muscles in his wings tighten up, pushed beyond their limits and now revolting from the strain. But Cloudy Sky endured the pain, gnashing his teeth hard and taking it as he demanded his body do as his brain ordered, flap faster! He could see the painted white line on the runway ahead of him, his final destination, coming into view.

Those precious seconds tic away as Cloudy Sky finally crossed over the starting line. His wings finally gave out and he collapsed. His hooves touched down to the ground, but his legs gave out, sending him tumbling off the runway and onto the grassy field as he came to an ignominious stop, lying motionless in a heap.

“Cloudy!” Silverstream ran to him with Firebolt right behind, both ladies feared he’d killed himself from the overexertion. Silverstream carefully tried to lift him up; his body unresponsive, only his panting indicating he was still conscious. “Here… let me help you, Cloudy.” She put one of his forelegs around her neck, helping him to stand. But he had no strength left to stand with. He was spent.

“I… I can’t… I can’t…” Cloudy Sky mumbled in a dizzying daze of pain, unaware of just where he was or who was trying to get him up. Firebolt, too, helped him to keep him upright, holding him up so as he could face Commander Spitfire who was walking right over to where they were. The three friends look up at the Wonderbolt leader, watching the C.O. silently scribbling notes down on her scoresheet about something, most likely about Cloudy Sky’s performance. It was very nerve-wracking for the youngest member of the BFFs, his imagination filling him with ideas about what she must think of his flying skills.

Spitfire kept them in a bit more suspense, finishing her note taking with a deliberate sharp crack of the pencil tip when making a period and the flipping the writing instrument out of her mouth and catching it behind her right ear.

“Recruit Cloudy Sky,” she addressed the pony in question, and he tried to stand on his own before answering but couldn’t.

“Yes, ma’am?” His legs were wobbly and unsteady, and he still relied on his friends to keep him stable.

“I’m sorry, recruit but,” she began and watched as Cloudy Sky collapsed into Silverstream’s waiting embrace, breaking down in tears.

“Oh no! Oh no-o-o-o-o!” Cloudy Sky was crushed, his dream gone. He wasn’t fast enough; he wasn’t good enough.

“Oh, Cloudy! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” Silverstream could not help shedding tears for her friend, his hopes of passing now crushed. But Firebolt saw the way Spitfire was looking at them, as if slightly amused by the drama and waiting to say more and letting Silverstream and Cloudy Sky carry on for a bit before interjecting.

“…I’m sorry, but you only beat your last posted time by exactly one-tenth of a second; you timed nine point eight-two-zero seconds exactly.”

When Cloudy Sky heard what Commander Spitfire said, it caused him to gasp slightly in shock and jerk his head up from Silverstream’s comforting embrace. Silverstream, too, gasped in surprise when hearing the news of his success.

“Re… really?” Cloudy Sky was almost too scared to ask his C.O., afraid that this might just be some delusion he was experiencing. But Commander Spitfire wore this funny little smile, indicating she wasn’t kidding, and Cloudy Sky wasn’t imagining it. She took a few steps closer to the trio, showing them her clipboard and her stopwatch affixed onto the retaining clip at the top.

“Here, look for yourselves.”

The three friends looked intently at the small time-keeping device, their eyes collectively going wide with the wonderful discovery that, yes indeed, Cloudy Sky had passed his previous time by the slimmest of margins. So excited for her friend that Silverstream let loose an ear-shattering hippogriff screech of joy and momentarily startling all three ponies in the process. She threw her forelegs around Cloudy Sky, hugging him tightly and he did the same in return, his tears of sorrow now of sheer euphoria.

“You did it! You did it, Cloudy! I just knew you had it in you!” Silverstream was so proud of her friend for passing the trial after struggling so much like he did. He trembled in her embrace, unsure whether he should laugh or cry with the relief.

Firebolt got a little choked up, having thought Cloudy Sky was not going to pass this trial no matter what he tried and then watch him pass was an inspiring moment. She had been so doubtful, as any flyer with a solid performance record like herself would be, about Cloudy Sky’s ability to persevere. The trials were designed to be harder and harder as they progressed, the veritable ‘culling of the wheat from the chaff’ so to speak. Cloudy Sky had made the cut.

Spitfire was a little pleased with herself for maybe having let her hoof slip just a little early on the timer that maybe shaved off a few thousandths of a second that made the difference. He had pushed himself so much harder than any other recruit to pass this trial and by her ‘commander’s discretion’ of the situation, he’d passed. Better still was how Rainbow Dash’s student and Firebolt stepped up to act like squad leaders, willing to work with and help their fellow flyer who needed it. She made a few further notes on her scoresheet about this. Perhaps what was ailing the duo earlier had been something minor and this exercise seemed to have rekindled the teamwork spirit between them.

“Oh, Silverstream, if it wasn’t for your idea of holding my breath when getting spun like that, I don’t think I would’ve made it this time! I owe everything to you!” Cloudy Sky blurted out and professed his undying gratitude to his friend, feeling like she truly cared about him passing or not. Hearing this instantly grabbed Spitfire attention.

Hearing how the hippogriff had unknowingly offered up one of the oldest tricks ‘in the book’ of getting past the Dizzatron as opposed to it being Firebolt who had imparted this small but significant tidbit of help made the head of the Wonderbolts snap around to glare right at Firebolt. The fiery-maned pony only needed the most cursorily of looks from the C.O. to know what question was silently being asked by that expression Spitfire had. Firebolt looked down at the ground, ashamed for making such a poor showing of her character.

You knew that trick and you never bothered to share it with your team member?! What else have you been holding back on them?!

Spitfire didn’t need to speak to know Firebolt comprehended what was being asked right then, seeing the mare recruit looking down at the ground and avoiding the eye contact. Spitfire made some quick changes to her records, correcting her first observations.

Firebolt glanced up to watch Spitfire make repeated crossing out marks on her scoresheet, changing the records and her heart sank lower. Once again, Spitfire made a sharp crack of her pencil tip at the end of her writing, as if to emphasize her final judgment with the scoring. Firebolt winced ever so slightly in reaction, dreading how bad she’d looked right then to her C.O.

Within only a few seconds of Commander Spitfire’s finishing of correcting the scoresheets, the bugle call for mealtime blared over the public address system and brought an end to the morning’s workout for the three remaining recruits.

“Just in the nick of time; you three are dismissed.” She looked at the still-recovering Cloudy Sky, being held up by Silverstream at the moment. “Rest yourself as much as you can, young fella. You’re going to need it for this afternoon’s regiment.” She gave a gentle warning, giving them a small heads-up for what was coming.

The three of them salute her as Spitfire slipped the clipboard under her right wing and returned the salute before parting. She, Soarin and Rainbow Dash had to get the scores tallied up for both recruits' groups and posted before the recruits came back from lunch.

Silverstream, still upset with her partner from this morning’s moment, ignored Firebolt.

“He… here, let me help-” Firebolt reached out to help hold up Cloudy Sky.

“We can manage.” The hippogriff moved her body in-between Firebolt and Cloudy Sky, denying her wing pony physical contact with him. The coldness of Silverstream’s tone went right through Firebolt’s body, chilling her heart and causing her to take a step back. “I’ll get Cloudy back to the barracks so he can lie down rest himself.”

Firebolt felt awful, standing there with disgrace written all over her. Silverstream steadily helped Cloudy Sky hobble along off the field and heading back to the barracks, leaving Firebolt standing there and feeling about as small and worthless as she could ever be made to feel.

She had made such a simple oversight by not asking Cloudy Sky weather he had held his breath or not when on the Dizzatron. If she had acted like a good squad leader and imparted to her friends what to do in order to pass, then perhaps Cloudy Sky would have passed the trial on the first or maybe second attempt and with a better time.

At that moment, Firebolt didn’t know what to do. She’d made a wreck of her friendship with Silverstream and now dishonored herself more for having shown such poor leadership qualities. She had to try and fix what she’d broken so carelessly and thoughtlessly. But how she would do this was a mystery, but she knew she had to do something and fast.

Comments

[KittyrinnAiko]

The machine gave a shudder, and he could feel the giant flywheel suddenly free of its brake and then the engine engaging, that distinctive whine the gears made as the machine wound up to speed filled his ears. The G-forces started pushing against his body, pinning him to one side of the launch seat as the intensity grew. His ears started to pop.

I'm curious as to why their ears would pop? I'm unaware of pilots experiencing this in the real world version of the Dizzatron. That's the NASA centrifuge training apparatus. Pilots training in this experience G-LOC. What happens in hi G while being spun is the inability of the blood flow to get enough oxygen to where it needs to be. This starts with graying out, followed by black out, and when the pilots wake up they may experience a lack of coordination and even myoclonic convulsions.

Pegasi are obviously made of tougher stuff.

[KittyrinnAiko]

Silverstream tried to explain, wondering if her personal experience having any relevance to a pegisus pony. “Teramor, my little brother, when he first rode up waterspouts with me as a seapony, he would complain that the water rushing through his gills would cause him to choke and he’d become very dizzy; he couldn’t breathe. So, I told him to hold his breath, it helps cut down on the dizziness sensation when spun in a waterspout. Maybe it will help you on the Dizzatron.”

That would actually make things worse. Push the air out, contract the muscles in the calves, thighs, and shoulders. Breath. Always breath.

[SuperPinkBrony12]

That was an incredible dramatic finish for Cloudy Sky, pushing past his limits!