Intrusion
Chapter 4: Intrusion
10:15 AM
May 4th, 1005 New Solar Calendar
Morning found Rainbow Dash in the close-quarters training room, punching holes through the thick fabric bodies of training dummies. The mannequins did not have the level of detail to which she had become accustomed while training in Gamma Division’s headquarters on the other side of the Hub, but they could be used to perfect her technique.
“Ten reps in good form are worth more than a hundred in poor form,” as her instructors must have said a hundred thousand times.
A kick of her hind leg sent the spearhead completely through the dummy’s neck. She tightened her fetlock around the shaft, giving the weapon a sharp tug. It slid smoothly through the wound channel until reaching the spearhead. The metal point stuck for a moment before its razor edges tore through the brown fabric at a slight angle from its entrance. A frown crept onto Dash’s face. No matter how often she practiced, withdrawal from the target had always given her more trouble than it should. The expert spear-ponies she had worked with during training had assured her that it would go away as her technique improved, but progress had been slow.
Nevertheless, she continued practicing. Yesterday’s aerial victory had excited her more than anything except the prospect of returning to Ponyville on leave next week. The thrill of the chase and subsequent capture had not fully worn off yet, and Dash was channeling that energy and excitement towards something constructive, which she would not have had the discipline to do before joining RAID. As disappointing as the deferral of her Wonderbolt dreams had been, the personal improvement that came with being part of an elite organization like RAID was a decent consolation prize.
“Hah!” She buried the spear into another dummy’s throat, the layers of coarse burlap tearing cleanly as the magically sharpened weapon sunk through the simulated flesh. Once again, though, pulling the weapon free took more time and effort than it should. Rainbow sighed. Of the many words that could be used to describe the young pegasus, “patient” was not one of them.
I’ve got to get this right, she told herself time and time again. I have to prove that I deserve to be here as much as anypony else. If this is what it takes to be a Wonderbolt, then I’ll be the greatest spearpony in Equestria.
A full hour of practice passed before Dash was interrupted. Her mentor gently pushed open the room’s heavily padded door, carefully peering inside. As soon as she poked her head through the doorway, she witnessed an unfortunate dummy meet its destiny as Dash swiftly drove her spear through its torso. Once again, the spearhead caught on the fake pony’s side before it could be fully withdrawn, eliciting a quiet growl from the frustrated operative.
Spitfire entered the training room, silently shutting the door behind her. “Still having trouble with your technique?” she asked.
Dash’s immediate instinct was to deny there was any problem, but as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, the stern look on Spitfire’s face made her hastily reconsider. “Well, maybe a teensy bit. But it’s nothing I can’t handle!” She turned back to the pony simulacrum. “Just gotta get more practice, that’s all.”
The Wonderbolt captain could only sigh at her protegé. Even on the best of days, getting Dash to accept help was a Mareculean task. Confidence and independence were highly desirable traits in an Individual Augmentee, but being headstrong to the point of impacting mission readiness was a problem, no matter what division to which a pony belonged.
“I know what you’re – hrgh! – thinking,” Dash continued, sinking her weapon into burlap again. “You want to – nngh! – bring in the trainers again. Well – huh! – I don’t need your so-called ‘professionals.’ I’m – nyeh! – perfectly able to get better on my own.”
“Dash, there’s no shame in using professional trainers. My unit used them all the time. Hay, I still use ‘em. Do you know how many trainers and support staff the Wonderbolts have? Training never stops, whether you’re in RAID or on the Wonderbolts.” Spitfire tenderly placed a hoof on Dash’s back, ceasing the young operative’s practice strikes. “Don’t let your pride turn away the best help available.”
For the love of Celestia, not more training, Dash thought, grimacing at the possibility. I just got done with a full year of training. I am sick of training. Even the word “training” is starting to get annoying. Training this, training that, training everything! If I’m gonna be part of this outfit, I’d at least like to see some action.
She glanced at her mentor, who was eyeing her expectantly. Then again, if Spitfire used trainers when she was with RAID, maybe they aren’t so bad after all…
“You… you really think it’ll help?” Rainbow asked tentatively.
“I guarantee it,” the Wonderbolt captain answered. “An extra set of eyes and hooves might be just what the doctor ordered.” She glanced away for a moment, lost in thought. Just as Dash was about to ask what was on her mind, a mischievous smile slowly crept across the yellow pegasus’ face. “I can even bring in the instructor you paid really close attention to, if you want.”
Rainbow’s eyes widened. She fluttered her wings nervously, attempting to redirect the blood that was rapidly pooling in her face. “Uh, heh heh… w-what instructor?” she asked, her embarrassment betrayed by an involuntary shudder.
The cheeky grin on Spitfire’s face widened as her protegé blushed like a flight camp filly. “Stallion. Grey coat, blue mane. You know, the one you thought nopony saw you staring at when he wasn’t looking?”
Oh, ponyfeathers. “I-I was just… watching his technique! Yep! His technique. Y’know, the… thing he was supposed to be teaching us? Yeah, that.” She mustered the most innocent smile she could manage in a futile attempt to salvage her poker face. She knew it would work about as well for her as it had for her friends whenever they tried it, but she refused to go down without some kind of a fight.
As expected, Spitfire was not fooled. Out of mercy for her flustered student, she refrained from making a joke about the stallion’s ‘technique.’ As funny as she found it to be, further ruffling Dash’s feathers would be counterproductive. “So, book the spear instructor?”
“Ugh… fine, I’ll do it,” Rainbow conceded, her voice cracking along with her paper-thin facade. Upon seeing the victorious smirk on Spitfire’s face, she added, “Just don’t rub it in.”
“Agreed,” the Wonderbolt chuckled. “No need to make fun of a good decision, even if your reasoning is a little bit… suspicious.” She winked at Dash in spite of herself. A little ribbing would not irreparably damage the young operative. Seeing the imminent protest from her protege, she promptly changed the subject. “You should probably call it a day in here, by the way. You’ve got another training op tomorrow, right? The Hammer Scenario?”
Dash reluctantly abandoned her hopeless denial with a groan, dismissively waving a hoof in response. “Yeah, something like that. Who comes up with these names, anyway? I mean, ‘Hammer’ sounds cool and powerful, but where did ‘Lotus Bloom’ come from? Totally lame.”
Spitfire shrugged. “Random word generator?” she offered. “To be honest, I’ve never cared enough to ask anypony.”
“Well, it’s weird.”
“I’ll let those responsible know.” The Wonderbolt captain nodded towards the door. “It’s getting pretty close to lunchtime. Wanna go get some chow?”
Rainbow needed little convincing. She quickly stowed her practice gear and followed her mentor out of the heavily padded room.
---
0522
05 MAY 05 MIL-STD CAL
Operation HAMMER mission clock: T minus 02:07:54
Gamma Division Ready Room
“Oh, come on, Gilda, it was totally radical!”
The scowl on the griffon’s face did little to dampen Rainbow’s excitement. Her aerial victory during the exercise two days ago had been replaying in her mind since she returned to the Hub. Unfortunately for Gilda, Spitfire, and everypony in earshot, she insisted on relating the story’s details ad nauseum. Though it had been well received the first couple times, Rainbow had never been one to pick up on subtle hints that enough was enough.
“I don’t think anypony else in RAID could’ve pulled off what I did back there,” she continued. “That was a Wonderbolt-grade performance. I captured a veteran operative on my very first training mission!”
Gilda made a show of rolling her eyes and groaning, finally getting fed up with her friend’s self-congratulatory discourses. “Alright, Dash, let’s get a couple things straight. That was no veteran you caught – he’s a rookie, same as you. A vet would’ve waited for you to stall out yourself on that little fly-straight-up maneuver before chasing after your helpless flank. Second, you tried to take on an entire squad of Gamma Division pegasi. Even for you, that’s just dumb. Did you really think you could take out seven operatives all by yourself?”
“You bet!” Dash devoured a large spoonful of her morning oatmeal, chewing loudly. “Ah codja go’en e’ry ‘ingur uhn o’ ‘em. Oh obrem.”
The griffon buried her head in her claws. “And I volunteered for this…”
Rainbow gulped down her spoonful of breakfast. “Aw, come on, G, you know you love me,” she said, a cocky grin on her face.
“Don’t push your luck.”
It was Dash’s turn to roll her eyes. “Yeah, whatever.” She took a sip of her coffee. Back home, she never touched the stuff, but she had picked up the habit over the course of her training. It was one of the few pleasures of an early morning “So, what am I doing today?”
Gilda shook her head in resignation before reaching into a bag on the floor. She produced several diagrams and a detailed map of a section of Equestria’s eastern coast. “You’re gonna be doing an airship boarding drill. You’ll be flying a patrol route before getting diverted to a mock cargo blimp over the ocean. It’s pretty much the same place as yesterday and the day before, but now there’s all sorts of close-in stuff that you’ll like.”
Dash leaned over to get a better look at the documents, taking another bite of her oatmeal as she did. There were schematics for the airship in question, the patrol route they’d fly, illustrations of proper room-clearing technique, and other assorted information of tactical value. Nothing in the information told her what she should be looking for, though.
“What’s the scenario? Salt smuggling? Border violation?”
The griffon shrugged. “Dunno. They’ll tell you after you get diverted. All part of the training – gotta be able to adapt to different missions.” She gave Dash a playful punch to the shoulder. “Nothing you can’t handle, right?”
“Hay yeah!” The two bumped claw to hoof.
Gilda was about to start explaining the dirigible’s blueprint when a klaxon blared to life in the ready room. It filled the room with its grating siren for a few seconds before the intercom came to life.
“Scramble! Scramble! Scramble! Unidentified contacts on course for Manehattan Approach No-Fly Zone. This is not a drill. I repeat – this is not a drill. All available units, scramble to intercept.”
For a fraction of a second, Dash froze. She was unsure of what was happening. The world around her stopped in an instant, and yet it continued to move. In fact, it was moving quickly. She was confused by the apparent contradiction until she realized that she had reacted without even thinking. Her training had taken over, moving her hooves before she knew what was happening.
Once her mind caught up to her body, she found herself galloping from the corner containing the small mess area towards a chain-link door covering a recess in the concrete walls leading to the armory. The quartermaster flattened himself against the wall, narrowly avoiding being trampled underhoof by the sudden surge of ponies barreling through the opening. Dash hardly have him a second glance as she bolted into the steel-plated room.
Inside, controlled chaos took hold. The dim red lights turned everypony to silhouettes as they threw open lockers crammed full of armor and weapons, all racing against the clock to don their gear and deploy to meet the unknown head-on. Rainbow carefully slipped through the crowd, bobbing and weaving around her fellow operatives to reach her temporary locker near the back of the crimson-lit room.
She pushed her way between a pair of bulky stallions to arrive at a grey metal door with her name scrawled on a piece of tape at the top. The locker swung open after a hard kick from the pegasus, revealing several long spears, a matte black bodysuit, and a headset with a wraparound visor. Dash quickly slipped into the armored garment and attached the headset to her suit’s crystal communication suite. Glowing icons danced across her field of vision as the internal systems came online, checking everything from armor integrity to altitude and heading.
In her haste, she grabbed the padded-tip training spear she had readied for the day’s exercise. She did not notice her error until she had already closed the door and taken several galloping strides towards the armory’s exit, where she did a quick about-face and replaced the collapsible contraption with the razor-sharp weapon she needed.
Back in the ready room, the platoon commander was shouting rapid-fire orders at the operatives as they filed out of the armory. Even with years of training and military discipline, it was nearly impossible to fight back against the chaos that had descended after the call. Undaunted, the seasoned officer shouted over the din, fighting for control of the situation.
“Quick Reaction Force troopers need to gear up first! Everyone else can wait! First Squad, get to the launch tunnel and organize there! Second Squad, you’re right behind them! TEAMCOM is Channel 3 for this op. Squad Leaders, make sure your ponies have their comm gear properly set. Priority is a quick takeoff, operatives! We need to get airborne!”
He stood on his hind legs to get a view over the swarming pegasi, seeking out the one variable to which he was unaccustomed. As soon as he located Rainbow Dash, he charged through the crowd until he was close enough to speak without yelling.
“Where’s your handler? The griffin?”
Dash pointed to the mess area as she clipped her spear onto her back and performed a final check on her armor. The commander made a beeline for Gilda’s table, waving to get her attention. He made exaggerated gestures as he spoke, the meaning of which were lost on Rainbow. She was about to follow Second Squad through the door to the launch tunnel prep area when the heavily armored stallion flew past her, shouting an order as he passed.
“You’re Third Squad on this op! She’ll fill you in!”
The unusual order slowed Dash’s thought process as she tried to make sense of it. Looking back at Gilda, though, she saw her old friend vigorously pointing towards the launch tunnel entrance with an expression of disbelief at her assigned operative’s delay on her face. The pegasus quickly complied, galloping through the gap in the concrete walls.
---
0543
05 MAY 05 MIL-STD CAL
Operation HAMMER mission clock: -[MISSION SCRUBBED]-
200 kilometers inland from Equestrian coast
“You read me, Dash?”
Gilda’s gravelly voice was difficult to distinguish from the background static of the crystal matrix, but Rainbow Dash could hear her clearly enough to give a weak reply in the affirmative. She could hear the sound of mechanical adjustments being made on the other end of the connection, equipment being disconnected and reconfigured for a stronger signal. Seconds later, the hissing static disappeared with a pop, replacing the previously poor signal for one that was only mediocre.
“Better?”
Dash signed in frustration. “It’s a crystal comm, Gilda, not DJ PON-3’s speakers. It’s only gonna get so good.”
“Whatever. I’ve gotta brief you, anyway.” Papers rustled through the earpiece for a moment before the griffon spoke again. “You’re a separate squad for this mission. Your job is to provide rapid-response aerial combat assistance wherever and whenever it’s needed. Callsign is Hazard Three-One.
“As for the mission itself, about twenty-five minutes ago, the Manehattan North Border Watch Station detected a group of three unknown contacts approaching at high speed and low altitude. They didn’t respond to communication attempts and then they started wandering towards the Manehattan Approach No-Fly Zone, which is a bunch of lame little islands Theta Division’s got some secret facility on. You know those weirdo spooks - they get their tails in a knot every time somepony sneezes in their direction. Basically, we were scrambled because they’re way overprotective. They won’t tell us what’s there, but apparently it’s worth diverting an entire training op to keep it all hush-hush.”
Rainbow snorted. “If they wanted it to stay secret, why build it on a bunch of islands right outside of Manehattan?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Some intelligence branch we’ve got.”
“Tell me about it. The spooks are still working on confirming the contacts’ identity, but their approach bearing means they most likely came from…” Gilda’s voice trailed off. Silent seconds ticked away on Dash’s display clock without a reply. To her adrenaline-spiked mind, though, it felt as if hours had passed in apprehension. When Gilda’s voice returned, it was barely audible as she finished her sentence. “…from the Griffon Kingdom.”
“The Griffon Kingdom?!” Dash nearly fell from the sky as she heard Gilda’s assessment. She barely managed to stay in formation with the two squads ahead of her as she recovered her wings’ natural rhythm. “What’s their problem with us? Why are they trying to sneak up on us?”
“No idea, but they’re two minutes from entering the NFZ. If… if the contacts enter...” A dull thud sounded through the earpiece, quieting its output, but Dash could still hear Gilda’s muffled voice ask somepony in the background, “Is this for real?” A moment later, the griffon returned in full clarity, deadpanning the remainder of her sentence. “... you’re cleared to use lethal force.”
Objectively, Rainbow knew what the words meant, but she had never heard them used outside of a simulation or training exercise. The gravity of her situation began to sink in, slowly seeping into the furthest recesses of her consciousness. Lethal force. The words echoed through her mind. She was flying into combat – real, unfettered combat that would ultimately take lives. Despite months of training, despite assurances from her trainers that the scenarios would mentally prepare her for the real thing, despite RAID’s “live for combat” culture… Dash found herself scared. The spear on her back felt heavy as she flew towards the coast.
Three red diamond outlines appeared on her visor’s display, each labeled with their distance to the edge of the No-Fly Zone. To Dash’s dismay, the numbers were small and getting smaller, representing the small amount of time left until she would need to engage in mortal combat. RAID’s advantage in numbers held little comfort for her. She had signed up to be a Wonderbolt, not a killer.
The numbers ticked lower and lower, despite Rainbow’s silent pleas that they stop before she would be compelled to act. The five-digit display was already down to only three numerals, then two, finally reaching one for a split-second before all that remained was a single flashing 0.
Her headset crackled to life with the sound of the platoon commander’s voice. “They’ve entered the NFZ - operatives, you are cleared to engage! Take them out!”
In an instant, the carefully maintained formation disintegrated as fliers scattered in every direction, each pair sticking close to his or her wingpony. Dash nosed up above the chaos, keeping her eyes open for any sign of trouble. The incoming griffons were woefully outnumbered, but they were bigger, stronger, and had claws and a hooked beak – apex predators with sentient minds. Even for highly trained RAID fliers, griffons would present a challenging fight.
She tried not to concentrate on the danger of her adversaries, instead forcing herself to analyze the approach pattern of the griffons. They had been staying low to delay detection by Border Watch sensors, but they should have known that their presence would not stay a secret for very long. Dash guessed that they would pull up soon, trading speed for altitude in a bid to either gain a tactical advantage over the response team or to beat a hasty retreat.
Seconds later, the griffons surprised her by executing a highly coordinated break of formation in which all three fliers separated from each other, the outside two peeling away to the left and right while the flight lead in the center pulled up, furiously pumping his wings as he rocketed skyward. He was cautiously followed by three pairs of RAID operatives, closely mirroring the griffon’s maneuvers while making sure to check their eagerness to engage the interlopers. The remainder of the response team’s pegasi dropped down to follow the other two intruders, leveling out just above the foamy crests of the ocean below. Dash elected to keep her altitude, monitoring the engagement on her projected display. She could see the three red diamonds swerving and jinking in attempts to shake the tailing blue squares tailing them.
Despite the best attempts of the two wave-skimming griffons, the discipline and training of the RAID operatives following them was too much, and the distance between hunter and prey slowly closed. One of the pair that had stayed low was boxed in by two archers, both of whom fired simultaneously. His body went limp, tumbling end over end until crashing into the ocean below, skipping off of the surface once before disappearing into the murky water. On Dash’s visor, the red diamond flickered out, replaced by similarly colored text reading NEUTRALIZED before it, too, disappeared.
The pegasi that had been pursuing him circled the point of impact like vultures crowding a savannah kill, closely scanning the sea for any sign of the wounded griffon. High above, Dash looked over the scene with a deep, instinctive churning in her gut. For a fleeting moment, she hoped the griffon’s head would burst from beneath the waves, gasping for air and crying out in surrender. As two minutes ticked away on the mission clock, though, it became clear to the RAID operatives that the enemy was down for good. The circling pegasi broke off to engage the other two intruders.
Dash chastised herself for her moment of weakness. I can’t feel sorry for them. They’ll jump on me if I hesitate. Besides, they flew all the way across the ocean to get here. It’s not like this is a big misunderstanding. They meant to show up here. She shook her head vigorously, trying to clear her mind. There was still a fight to win, and she could not waste time on self-recrimination in the middle of combat. Such luxuries could wait until her return to the Hub.
Above her, the lead griffon was putting up a better fight than his two teammates. His maneuvers were crisp and precise, preventing any of his pursuers from closing the gap between them. He was as fast and agile as any of the pegasi on his tail, and he clearly had experience with aerial combat. Every time a pair started to advance on him, he would bank towards another pair, setting the two groups on a collision course with each other and ruining their carefully controlled pursuit.
Rainbow watched from a distance in awe. Even though she was constantly checking on the status of the other chase, she took no more time than necessary before turning her attention back to the lead griffon’s stunning aerial display. Despite being outnumbered by pegasi ten to one, he owned the sky around him. His mastery of aerial combat was evident even to a rookie like Dash. He kept the pegasi tailing him far enough away that they could not reach him with their weapons, but he never outran them so much that the archers could get a clear shot. If he realized the futility of his situation, his flying did not reflect it. He almost looked like he was enjoying the chase, as though it was a simple game of tag with Flight Camp foals.
A red arrow projected on her visor prompted Dash to turn her attention back to the second fight. The griffon had gotten herself surrounded but was still fighting viciously. She had wounded one of the operatives chasing her and was trying to find a way through the ring of pegasi that had encircled her. The wounded operative was being carried away from the fight on a large stallion’s back, their armor hooked together to prevent the smaller pegasus from helplessly falling to the ground. The remaining fliers closed in on the trapped intruder, approaching from any direction she was not facing. The ring closed in slowly, only backing away to avoid the increasingly desperate swipes of her claws. Even from Dash’s distant vantage point, she could see fear gripping the doomed creature. She was one mistake away from death, and she knew it.
The surrounding ponies closed in like a pack of wolves, each ready to attack their prey when the moment was right. One lunged at the griffon with a broadsword clutched in his snarling teeth only to have his efforts rewarded with the intruder’s claws raking down his back. His armor deflected the brunt of the attack, but a slow ooze of red began to issue from a razor-thin slice in the weak points. The stallion winced as he sheathed his sword, flying to the supporting legs of his wingpony.
Though the swordspony’s attack had been successfully countered, it left the griffon off-balance and vulnerable. The remaining pegasi converged at once, obscuring the helpless intruder behind the bulk of a dozen pony bodies. Once again, the red diamond on Dash’s visor disappeared, overlaid with the emotionless acknowledgement of NEUTRALIZED for a fleeting moment. When she looked away, she convinced herself it was only to turn her attention back to the last remaining chase.
In an instant, the griffon leader’s flight style shifted dramatically. Gone was the apparent levity with which he dodged his pursuers, replaced with a sudden drive that bordered on panic. His turns were no longer graceful and precise. His timing ignored the pegasi behind him. His wings beat frantically, biting into the air with every feather. He nosed down and streamlined his body, sacrificing everything in the name of speed. The ponies behind him struggled to close the intervening distance, but despite their effort and training, the griffon was pulling away.
For a moment, Dash watched him hurtle towards the sea, slowly putting more and more space between himself and the operatives attempting to catch him. As she realized they would not catch him, a wave of relief began to sweep over her. There would be no more death today.
Just as she was beginning to let down her guard, the earpiece integrated in her headset buzzed with the platoon commander’s voice. “He can’t get away! Rainbow Dash, you’re the only one who can catch him! Get after him!”
Rainbow’s stomach dropped as she heard the order, destroying the respite she thought she had earned. “W-what? Why? Can’t we just let him retreat?”
“Celestia dammit, Dash, he’s got intel on our response capability! He can’ be allowed to escape Move your flank!”
Before she had consciously reached a decision, her training took over. She clipped her spear to her back, tucking her legs and putting all of her strength into each beat of her wings. She gained velocity at breakneck speed, powerful wing muscles propelling her light frame across the sky. The wind tore at her mane and tail. She could not remember ever accelerating so quickly before, even when performing Sonic Rainbooms at home.
Her visor display automatically displayed the distance separating her from the last griffon. The number was growing, but it grew more slowly with each passing second, finally stopping and reversing towards zero. Ten-thousand meters shrank to nine-thousand nine-hundred meters and lower. Dash gritted her teeth in anticipation of a grueling sprint. Nine-thousand five-hundred meters. She could feel her acceleration taper off as she reached her maximum speed, the beginnings of a mach cone forming around her front hooves. Nine-thousand meters. The weight of all her gear prevented her from going supersonic, but she was still catching up. Eight-thousand meters. She tore through a cloud, not bothering to maneuver out of the way. Seven-thousand meters. Her wing muscles began to burn. Six-thousand meters. She had been sprinting for nearly three full minutes.
Far in the distance, she could barely see the last few remaining operatives break off pursuit as the commander ordered them to make way for the Individual Augmentee who was coming in hot from behind. Even from nearly five kilometers away the large body of the griffon could be seen as a speck just above the horizon. For but a split second, she wondered if his wings hurt as much as hers did.
The griffon must have been tiring, as Dash noticed the distance readout was falling more quickly than it had been. She was still over three kilometers away, but she was closing fast. She would catch the leader in less than a minute. Straining to maintain her speed, Rainbow grimaced and pushed the searing pain in her muscles to the back of her mind, concentrating only on speed.
From two kilometers away, the dot on the horizon grew wings, slowly morphing into a vaguely griffon-like shape. In forty seconds, the two would meet side-by-side. Twenty agonizing seconds ticked away, both fliers pushing themselves to their limits. The distance readout dropped to three digits. Dash pulled up slightly, positioning herself just above the retreating intruder’s flight path. Five hundred meters to go. She brought her legs to her belly, pressing them against her armored flight suit as much as possible. Glancing at the distance readout, she saw there was less than one hundred meters remaining. The wind roaring in her ears went silent as she paused. A heartbeat later, she acted.
Her legs thrust out from beneath her, timed perfectly to impact squarely on the fleeing griffon’s back. She could feel a sickening crunching as she shattered the target’s ribs and vertebrae. As soon as she passed the retreating intruder, she flared her wings to quickly reduce her speed enough to engage the interloper, but she soon discovered that further combat would be unnecessary.
Turning her head, she saw the limp body of the lead griffon skip off the ocean’s surface several times before making one large final splash as it slowed to a halt in the waves, floating lifelessly in the blue-green water. He did not sink like his subordinate, but bobbed up and down with the waves, limbs splayed out in every direction. His mouth hung open, seawater flowing in and out.
Dash hovered above the surface, staring uncomprehendingly at the result of her chase. Some distant, rational part of her brain knew what had happened, but the rest of her mind rebelled at the notion, refusing to believe what her eyes told her. The griffon was dead, but surely it was not her fault.
Nearly five minutes passed before the first operative caught up to her. He circled above the floating griffon, keying his crystal comm.
“Splash one, splash one. Confirmed E-KIA.”
“Copy, E-KIA. Kill credit?”
“Kill confirmed for Hazard Three-One.”
“Roger. All Hazard units, mission objectives fulfilled. Return to base. Form and report, starting with Hazard One-One. Give weapons check and status reports...”
Dash did not hear the rest of the orders.
---
1245
05 MAY 05 MIL-STD CAL
Everypony in the auditorium jumped at the sound of hooves slamming onto the stone floor. On stage, flanked by her personal guard, RAID’s Commanding Officer struggled to control her anger before addressing the gathered operatives. From what Dash could tell, she was one misstep away from completely blowing up at the crowd before her. Her cheeks were clearly flushed underneath her pale yellow coat, and the expression on her face was one that Rainbow had only seen on Twilight Sparkle right before bursting into a flaming ball of rage.
The shock only lasted for a moment before somepony shouted, “Attention on deck!” Dash was certain her spine would have broken if she had moved any faster. Standing in such rigid posture sent sharp pains stabbing down her back and into her wings, even after the Chi Division medics had cast some painkiller spells. It took all of her discipline to maintain her position.
Fortunately for her, the CO was not interested in formality. “At ease,” she said, clear deliberation in her voice. Everypony took their seats, stewing in apprehension of the tirade that was sure to follow. Her real name was kept classified, but the Commandant, as she was formally known, was famous for tearing into operatives after a botched mission. Nopony was sure how the day’s intercept could be considered a failure, but if everything had gone right, they would not be in RAID’s highly secure briefing room at lunchtime.
Spitfire and Gilda sat on either side of Rainbow Dash, doing their best to comfort her after returning in a near-comatose state. Thanks to Spitfire, she had recovered most of her faculties since landing, but she could hardly bear to look at Gilda. The mere sight of her made Dash sick to her stomach at first. It had been a full hour before she could utter a coherent sentence to her old friend, assuring the worried griffon that “it’s not your fault.” Spitfire had initially asked Gilda to leave, but Dash mustered the strength to intervene, realizing that she would eventually want both of them around.
At the front of the room, the Commandant addressed the room angrily. “Somepony had better explain what happened today, and it had better be an answer that Celestia herself would give.”
Unsurprisingly, nopony dared speak. The Commandant flicked her sky-blue tail in annoyance. “Nothing, huh? I’m just imagining the reports of some amateur-hour intercept mission that killed a griffon patrol squad? That never happened?” Once again, she was met with silence. “Well, if that’s the case, than somepony had better get over to Beta HQ and tell them to un-buck themselves, because now I’m getting fantastic stories of aerial combat that simply didn’t happen!”
She paused for a moment, as if actually expecting somepony to stand up and start trotting off towards the massive steel door leading to Beta Division’s underground headquarters complex. “Well?” she asked, looking around the crowd. “Anypony? Or is there something you all know that I don’t?”
On the opposite side of the auditorium, a pony in his dress blue uniform stood, responding in carefully measured tones. “We detected three contacts approaching the Manehattan Approach NFZ. They did not respond to Border Watch’s communication attempts. We scrambled units that were preparing for a training exercise to intercept them.”
The Commandant’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the speaker. “Well, if it isn’t the infamous Colonel North Star. How did I know Theta was behind this mess? You bunch of spooks seem like more trouble than you’re worth.”
North Star shifted uneasily under the condemnation. “Manehattan Approach NFZ is well-known to be restricted airspace. We house highly sensitive projects there that would be a grave threat to Equestria’s security if they fell into the wrong hands.”
“So, what are you suggesting, Colonel? We send out a full platoon every time somepony gets a little too close to your precious islands? Do the words ‘black ops’ have any meaning to you?” She stood on the edge of the stage, looking squarely at the head of Theta Division. “Do I really need to remind the head of our intelligence branch that we are a classified organization?”
“No, ma’am, but the intruders-”
“Sending an entire platoon on an intercept mission over two hundred kilometers from our base is hardly my idea of secrecy, Colonel!” she barked. “Leave that to the pompous idiots known as the Royal Guard! You and I both know how much they love flying around in that flashy gold armor they’re oh-so-proud of.” A couple of the Guard veterans in the crowd stirred slightly at the insult, but quickly checked their movements as the Commandant continued. “Now, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that it was you who authorized lethal force on this little sojourn. Would I be right?
“Yes, ma’am.”
She gritted her teeth, taking a deep breath to keep her fury in check. “Now, I know that you know that I am the only one who can give the final authorization for use of lethal force during peacetime. Let’s cut to the chase, then, shall we?”
North Star nervously cleared his throat before responding. “It was determined that the risk of a security breach at the Oat Rock Facility was too great to chance-”
The Commandant cut him off, clearly expecting his answer. “I realize that those islands are kind of your little pet project, but that does not allow you to undermine my authority in these matters! If I think there’s a risk of a breach, then I will let the dogs off the chain. Until that point, I expect my Division Heads to keep their operations on a short leash.”
She glared at North Star for a moment longer before shifting her gaze to the opposite side of the audience, near Dash’s seat. “Is Bountiful Harvest here yet?”
“Present, ma’am,” replied a mare in the row directly in front of Rainbow. Even in the dim light, the cyan pegasus could see an eerie similarity between her and Applejack’s neighbor.
“Is the Guard in contact with the griffons yet, Colonel?”
The orange-maned earth pony nodded. “Yes, ma’am, and none of it’s pretty. They’ve agreed to keep the whole thing under wraps, since, technically, they were the ones out of line, but they’re mad as Tartarus over the whole thing.”
A frustrated groan escaped the Commandant’s lips. “That figures. They send a patrol into restricted airspace for Celestia knows what reason and somehow we’re the bad guys for knocking it out of the sky. I’ve got half a mind to send that new speedster of ours there with a personal message for that birdbrain King Ivory. Maybe he’ll keep those hawk eyes of his on those ‘Proud Griffon Warriors’ instead of the latest pretty tail to walk through his palace.”
Colonel Bountiful Harvest was at a loss for words. Even after working with the Commandant for years, she was only mostly sure it was meant figuratively. The half-crazed mare was known to have little patience for stupidity, especially when politicians were involved. Given King Ivory’s rather chauvinistic approach towards females of all species, nopony would have been particularly surprised if she had flown across the ocean to deliver the message herself just to tweak his beak.
Luckily, she still had her wits about her. “Is it a problem?”
“No, ma’am. The Captain of the Guard and Minister of State are handling it.”
The Commandant signed in relief. “Finally, something goes right today. Wouldn’t have needed it if things had been done properly from the get-go, but something’s still better than nothing, I guess.” She turned to address Colonel North Star again. “Theta Division has seventy-two hours to fix its horseapples. If it isn’t done by then, you won’t even be able to get command of a marching band after I’m done with you. Is that understood?”
The little remaining color in North Star’s purple face drained. “Y-yes, ma’am.”
Finally satisfied that things would be properly addressed, the Commandant spoke to the entire gathered crowd. “Remember, fillies and gentlecolts, we’re here to work in the shadows. If our actions cannot be explained as bad luck, incompetent workers, or a freak accident, then we have failed. We do not start wars. We prevent them. ‘Mishaps’ like this morning cannot happen. When they do, death follows - you all saw that today.
“You’re all professionals. If something seems wrong, stand up and say, ‘For Luna’s sake, stop.’ Make your superiors understand why you don’t like the situation. You may be the last line of defense that prevents another fiasco. Maybe you noticed something they didn’t. If you’re wrong, then they’ll explain why. Even if you get chewed out for lawyering it too much, that’s better than sitting in these chairs answering my questions about why three griffons died as a result of your actions.
“Let’s move forward from here. Learn from this. No more mistakes. Dismissed.”
---
11:23 PM
May 5th, 1005 New Solar Calendar
The soft glow of the digital clock bathed the room in a turquoise meant to lull ponies to sleep. To Rainbow Dash, however, it only served as a reminder of a motionless griffon body floating below her, coat and feathers slick with the salty seawater that would eventually claim it forever. It reminded her of the comm traffic that gave credit for the kill to her callsign. It reminded her of the long flight back to the Hub she spent in denial. It reminded her of being unable to meet Gilda’s eyes when she arrived.
She rolled onto her back, her muscles and wings aching in protest, once again reminding her of events she still refused to acknowledge. Adjusting to lay on her side, she stared into the clock’s display but only saw a counter ticking down the meters between her and the exhausted griffon ahead. In frustration, she lay flat on her stomach, burying her face in her pillow and pulling the scratchy sheets over her head. Whether she lay there for a minute or an hour was irrelevant to her. She longed for the distraction of sleep and dreams.
The scent of detergent wafted from the pillowcase into her nose. She initially thought nothing of it, but some distant part of her memory recognized the smell. It was familiar but not everyday. When she bothered to wash her sheets back in Ponyville, she used a different brand; some off-brand liquid that hardly cost five bits. This scent was clearly different. She had smelled it before, though, of that she was certain. Closing her eyes and delving deep into her memory, she searched for its proper place in her past. It had been the same smell since she arrived at the Hub’s barracks, but it was a more distant sensation that that. Something from back further, back home, in Ponyville. Not her own sheets, but…
Her eyes snapped wide open as she remembered. This was the smell of Twilight Sparkle’s sheets. She had smelled it at one of their many slumber parties in the library; all of her pillowcases smelled alike. Twilight and Rarity had somehow gotten into a discussion about what brand she used to wash her linens, and the purple unicorn had replied that she used the same bulk brand used by all Equestrian government agencies because it was what she had grown accustomed to as Celestia’s student in Canterlot. It was neither cheap nor easy to get it specially shipped to Ponyville, but she considered it one of the few luxuries she allowed herself.
Though the memory was a pleasant one, Dash realized that she had forgotten so many other things about home, about her life back in Ponyville, about her friends. She had been away for over a year, only visiting during her post-graduation leave. Though she kept in contact with her weekly letters, it was a pitiful substitute for running through the orchard with Applejack or playing pranks with Pinkie Pie or anything she ever did with her five best friends. She had been extricated from the group in Ponyville to live a life she did not want, all for her goal of becoming a Wonderbolt.
She imagined her friends gathered in the library once more, talking and laughing as they put off sleep for just one more story. They had settled down hours ago, but none of them wanted to sleep. “Slumber party” had been long ago agreed upon as a ridiculous misnomer. They had enjoyed themselves all night and would continue to have a good time until somepony was reminded of their friend in absentia. Their smile would fade, replaced with a sullen pout. Nopony would need to ask why, they all knew. They missed her, too.
The thought of her friends was already enough to cause Rainbow to recoil as she tried to deny an uncomfortable realization that was slowly seeping through her mind. In her weakened state, it was almost overwhelming. She was “living the dream,” but it was a twisted, unrecognizable perversion of her fillyhood fantasies. It had turned her drive into a weapon for somepony else to wield and taken her from her home and friends to hide her in a hole in the rock, just waiting for the next call.
What happened to me? I’m the Element of Loyalty, but I haven’t seen my friends more than once in the last year. I signed up to be a Wonderbolt, but now I’m a ki— something else. Something that I never wanted to be. When did things become so… un-radical?
She would never admit it, but right then, Rainbow Dash cried.
NEXT CHAPTER: “The North Wind Blows”
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It boggles my mind that this gets so few views. It's a bit slow but it's still better written than fics that get around ten times the attention.
1797729
Thanks for the compliment! Nothing spreads a fic like word of mouth, though (well, except maybe getting on EqD). Tell people you know!
Great chapter! I'm with Arzoo on this. Maybe the word count intimidates people. Nevertheless, I'll endeavor to spread this story.
I agree with those two
This is a great Fic and it NEEDS more readers, likes and Favs
Exceedingly well done.
I hope you don't mind if I suggest this to Seattle's Angels (that one group that recommends under-appreciated fics); I think that qualifies as word of mouth, right?
1797967>>1799351>>1799578
I truly appreciate the compliments. They really do mean a lot. As for suggesting to groups/people, as long as it isn't TWE (or whatever splinter groups of them remain), I'm all for it! Thanks!
1799351
I deleted your comment only because it contains leaked content. I don't want to have that kind of thing on the comments page here. Nothing personal, just don't like promoting leaks.
It's a full episode!!
Should I send it in a PM?
1799845
Nah. I'll just watch it on Saturday
1799808
This is Seattle's Angels
Wanderer D posts their weekly review in a blog.
This is an awesome fic. A really awesome fic.
Aw, crap. I was wondering when Dash would have to kill someone. I like how you have her reevaluating her choice to push to become one of the Wonderbolts even if it means changing who she thought she would be, and the whole thing about her not being able to face Gilda was a nice touch. I dunno where you're going to go with this, but I'm really interested to find out.
As to spreading the word, I listed this story on my user page in the awesome stories section - not that I get a lot of traffic, mind you (like pretty much none) but its the thought that counts, I guess
Anywho, still loving this
Oh jeez.
Poor Dash...