The Ponies With Green Faces
Chapter 7: The Ponies With Green Faces
11:17 AM
June 10th, 1005 New Solar Calendar
Rainbow Dash hovered in a triumphant pose after completing the loop, shouting her victory to nopony in particular.
“Yes! Not even a little twinge that time!”
She floated towards the ground in a lazy helix, relishing her return to the sky after such a long absence. Her first flight after being injured had been several days ago, but the Chi Division doctors had restricted her to the most basic of aerial maneuvers. Today was the first time she had pushed herself since taking back to her wings. If the doctors were satisfied with her recovery, she could begin her workouts in earnest.
Upon reaching the ground, she folded her wings to her side a half-meter above the dirt, landing on all four legs with her head held high. A semicircle of doctors scribbled on their clipboards with levitating pens, barely noticing the patient in front of them.
“How about that, huh? No pain, no problem! I’m totally ready to go back,” she chirped excitedly.
“As much as you’d like to think so,” a yellow stallion replied with the tone of a doctor who was used to dealing with stubborn patients, “we still have the final word on that.”
“Your progress has been good, but you aren’t out of the woods just yet,” another doctor added.
“Returning to your standard physical training regimen could still injure you further,” a third chimed in.
Dash rolled her eyes. “Ah, what do you eggheads know?” She put her weight on her wings again, hovering around the lab-coated ponies while pantomiming a backstroke.
“Mmm, yes, what could doctors know about the equine body?” the stallion grumbled into his notes.
“I can forgive you all for thinking it might take me awhile to heal,” Rainbow continued in her most patronizing voice. “Not everypony is as fast as the Rainbow Dash, after all. I fly fast. I think fast. It only makes sense that I would heal fast!”
“Ms. Dash, if you do not give your wings a rest, I will be forced to make tasteless ‘fast’ jokes at your expense,” the yellow doctor replied. “You may not believe me, but I have a very good sense of humor. My fellow physicians and I will have quite a laugh at them.”
Rainbow stared into the sky in confusion for a moment as she processed the stallion’s warning. “How could you make jokes about… hey!” She angrily planted her hooves on the ground, ready to stand up for herself. “You wanna reconsider those jokes, pal?”
“Take a note, fillies and gentlecolts,” the stallion said, unperturbed by the insulted pegasus before him. “There is more than one way to get a patient to follow your orders. Finding and using alternate methods is what separates a merely ‘good’ doctor from a first-rate practitioner.”
Dash scowled at the group of unicorns, who were suppressing laughter at their boss’s tactics. “Oh, ha ha. Real funny.”
The yellow doctor flashed a toothy grin. “Told you I have a good sense of humor.”
“Yeah, well, don’t ask me what I think of it, ‘cause you won’t like what I have to say.”
“I hadn’t planned on it,” the doctor replied. “To shift focus back to more important topics, it appears that your recovery is nearly complete. Note that I say nearly complete, Ms. Dash. There is still potential to reinjure yourself if you don’t take it easy for the next week or so.”
“Yeah, sure thing,” Rainbow said with a dismissive wave of her hoof. “So I’m good to go?”
The doctor rubbed his temple with a hoof. “I know I’m going to regret this, but… yes, you’re cleared to resume your normal duties.”
“Aw yes!” She took to the air with a celebrative corkscrew. “Finally! If I had to spend another day in physical therapy, I’d have lost my mind!”
“I’m pretty sure the doctor just told you to take it easy,” a familiar voice intoned. Dash spun around in midair to face Spitfire, who was still dressed in her Wonderbolts flight suit. Despite the rough treatment it had received on the show circuit over the past few weeks, it was still in pristine condition. Its owner looked up at Rainbow expectantly, tapping a hoof impatiently.
“Ah, gimme a break, Spitfire,” Rainbow replied casually. “It was just a little spin. Nothing crazy.”
“I don’t care if you were just riding an updraft. If the docs tell you to take it easy, you listen to them,” the Wonderbolt retorted.
Dash rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on,” she whined. “I’ve got plenty of time to recover. It’s not like I’m scheduled to…”
She trailed off as a knowing grin spread across her mentor’s face. A brief moment of confusion was followed by wide-eyed anticipation. “Really? What’s going on?”
Spitfire nodded towards the hospital’s entrance. “Go get your stuff. You’re checking out. I’ll fill you in with the basics on the flight back to the Hub.”
---
1300
10 JUN 05 MIL-STD CAL
“Attention on deck!”
Dash joined the dozen other operatives in the room in the acknowledgement of their superior’s arrival. As it happened, she was not facing the door when she snapped to attention, delaying her identification of the exact identity of the commanding officer of the operation. Two years ago, she would have simply glanced to her side to get a brief glimpse, but the discipline instilled by her training kept her head still, knowing that she would soon be released from the rigid posture.
The call had been made by a mare she recognized from training, an expert in stealth and infiltration. It was the first time she had seen any of her instructors since graduation. Exactly what it meant was a mystery to her, but she wanted to believe it was a reflection of her unique talent and a sign of moving up in the loosely defined hierarchy of field operatives. There was an unspoken belief that all RAID operators were not created equal and that ultra-elite squads existed in the darkest corners of RAID’s many divisions.
“At ease,” a stallion’s voice commanded.
Dash remained locked at attention for a moment longer. She recognized the voice. It reminded her of a painful debrief in the room where her life had taken a new direction. It had been much less confident then, withering under the condescending assault of the Commandant’s angry tirade. Shadow and darkness had fittingly concealed the speaker, whose line of work kept him sequestered in the depths of secrecy. A primitive, instinctual part of her psyche distrusted everything the voice had to say.
Rainbow tracked the stallion as he made his way to the front of the room. Her gut twisted itself in knots as her eyes confirmed what her ears had suspected. The next mission was a Theta Division operation, and it fell under the command of Colonel North Star.
“Good afternoon, operatives,” he began in a businesslike tone, retrieving a stack of notes from his saddlebag and placing them on the podium. “You’ve all been selected for this operation because you each offer a unique skill that can’t be found elsewhere. Recon, infiltration, communications, speed, evasion… You all fit into the picture somehow. We’ve got a lot to cover, so let’s get right to it.”
Dash stared at the Theta Division commander in disbelief. It was his fault — all of it, him. He was the reason her training flight had been scrubbed to defend Oat Rock Island two months ago. Unnecessarily diverted, she reminded herself. She had been forced to kill before she was ready to keep the Colonel’s secret projects under wraps. Her jaw involuntarily clamped shut. She wanted to feel rage, but all she could muster was stunned silence.
The lights dimmed in the briefing room as the front wall parted to reveal a large recessed screen behind the veneer. It briefly displayed the RAID insignia as it turned on, quickly switching to a roster display of the eight ponies selected for the operation. All of the pictures were grayed out except for one on the top left, a sea-green mare with a stark white mane.
“For those of you who don’t know,” North Star began, “this is Captain Highwind. She is one of Theta Division’s top reconnaissance experts and will be in command of this operation. I’d share some of her accomplishments with you all, but frankly…” He ran a hoof through his navy mane. “It’s all need-to-know, and you don’t. Moving on…”
The next picture highlighted itself, an aged stallion with a rusty orange coat and close-cropped silver mane. “First Sergeant Iron Forge will be your senior non-commissioned officer. He’s been in for twenty-seven years, twenty of them with Theta. If anypony knows infiltration, it’s him.”
The words hardly registered with Rainbow. All she could think about was the pain the Colonel’s actions had caused her. If he had stayed his hoof, if he had only had the restraint to leave the intercept to the Royal Guard…
North Star stepped away from the podium. “I’ll turn the rest of the brief over to them now.” He nodded to the two ponies in the front row. “Captain, Sergeant… all yours.”
The pair exchanged a quick glance before the mare nodded to her counterpart. Grunting, First Sergeant Iron Forge rose from his seat and hovered onto the stage, foregoing the podium entirely. He began his segment of the brief with the unrefined but seasoned professionalism unique to sergeants.
“Alright, listen up so we don’t have to go over this twice.” He retrieved a small remote from the podium and pushed a button, changing the slide. “We’ve got ourselves an old-fashioned recon mission. The griffons been working on some big frickin’ complex in the middle of a jungle, and we wanna know what it’s for.”
The screen displayed a map of the Griffon Kingdom’s west coast. An area to the south was highlighted, and a red dot pulsed near the center of the amorphous shape. “The entire site is surrounded by rainforest for at least thirty klicks. If they use roads to get in and out, we can’t tell, because the jungle hides everything they didn’t clear.”
The display zoomed in on the flashing dot, switching to a topographical map of the surrounding forest. “The best vantage point is on a ridge about five hundred meters to the west. We’ll each set up there and record the buildings’ activity in pairs for twenty-four hours, then we egress to a communication vessel waiting just outside the Kingdom’s territorial waters.
“Now, I know what some of you are thinking. ‘This is a milk run. Why are they puttin’ together a frickin’ all-star team to deal with this?’ Well, there’s a catch. No kidding, right?” He changed the display again, zooming out to a view of the entire jungle. “The facility is surrounded by an early-warning sensor system. Each individual sensor station has a radius of twenty-seven thousand meters in every direction, including straight up.”
An operative in front of Dash spoke up suddenly. “So how do we deal with that? That’s way higher than a pegasus can fly. Going by airship will take weeks to get there. And if we do an amphib op upriver, it’ll take even longer. Not to mention the patrols they’ve probably got swarming through those hills.”
The First Sergeant’s eyes narrowed. “I’m gonna explain it, operative. You think they’d call us all in here just to say it’s impossible? Don’t answer that, I want to pretend you’re still smart.” He changed the slide again.
Dash’s eyes widened as she beheld the picture. She was not sure what she was looking at, but she knew one thing for certain – it was very, very secret.
Captain Highwind rose for the first time during the brief, joining the First Sergeant on the stage. “What you’re all gawking at is the XM-1 Albatross. It’s the world’s first fixed-wing aircraft, the result of years of research on alternatives to lighter-than-air buoyancy. The Lambda Division brains and grease monkeys have been itching to graduate from midnight test flights over the ocean. Assuming the test data is accurate, it has the chops to get us up and over that sensor field.”
She paused for a moment, noting the bewildered expressions on her team’s faces. “I assure you, it’s very real. You’ll be boarding it in a few hours. Am I correct in assuming you’ve all been trained to HALO from airships?”
The operatives nodded meekly, still distracted by the fantastic machine. She cleared her throat in an attempt to recapture their attention. “We’ll be jumping from the tail door once we reach the drop zone. The only difference between this and an airship jump will be the initial velocity. Just pretend it’s high-altitude wind shear.”
With a click, the screen faded as the lights brightened. Iron Forge stepped forward on the stage. “You all know the drill for HALO. Pressure suits have been selected for all of you. Just remember that once you ditch it, you’ll be in a jungle. It’s gonna be hot, and it’s gonna be really, really humid. Like swimming in the frickin’ air.”
The Captain whispered something into his ear. “Already got it ready,” he replied in a hushed tone. “The quartermaster learned a long time ago to just give me what I ask for.”
He turned to the gathered operatives. “One more thing. This is an infiltration mission, and we look like a frickin’ pastel painting. Not so good for sneaking around in the jungle. Head to the locker room and we’ll get that fixed. Dismissed.”
Dash rose with the rest of the team, casting a final glance at Colonel North Star. She wondered if he had been involved with the selection of the final team. His involvement struck her as more than a little suspicious. This was not an operation that required oversight from such a high level. The Captain and the First Sergeant seemed to have things well in hoof.
Dissonance echoed through Rainbow’s mind. The Colonel had done little to earn her trust or put her worries at ease. She was certain the stallion had an agenda, one of which she could barely hope to glimpse. Sending an elite team all the way to the shores of the Griffon Kingdom could only hint at a much larger plan unfolding within the shadowy confines of Theta Division.
However, Dash had taken an oath to RAID, same as every other pony upon whom the insignia had been bestowed. Colonel North Star was her superior, and his actions were governed by the Commandant and, ultimately, Celestia and Luna. To doubt him would be to doubt the Princesses. Despite her personal dislike of the Princesses’ tendency towards patience and lenience, she respected their rule and honored their decisions. They installed North Star to his position and trusted him to run Theta Division with the best interests of Equestria in mind.
A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. Try as she might, she could not square her distrust of the Colonel with her loyalty to the Princesses. The two ideas refused to mix, slipping over each other like an oil slick on ocean waves. Hanging her head in resignation, she filed in with the other pegasi as they shuffled towards the locker room.
---
0453
12 JUN 05 MIL-STD CAL
Operation THUNDERHEAD Mission clock: T+ 6:37:02
Twenty kilometers past Griffon Kingdom coastline
Despite living underground for over a year, Dash had still not become accustomed to small spaces. The odd, twisting hallways of the Hub, though occasionally narrow and confining, had an organic quality to them that staved off claustrophobia enough for most pegasi to stay for extended periods of time without having a nervous breakdown. Following the natural seams of the rock lent a sense of being in harmony with nature to the otherwise spartan Hub, which Dash had come to appreciate.
Her current location offered no such respite. The dimly lit metal shell of the aircraft was built to use as little material as possible. The arcane dynamos mounted below each wing had very limited output, so weight was shaved off in every possible place. Cargo comfort was, at best, a tertiary concern in the designers’ minds.
Dash’s ears were filled with the incessant buzzing hum of the dynamos’ output. Every so often, the flying machine would hit a patch of high-altitude turbulence, shaking and bucking violently. The sensation of hitting such disturbed air pockets while on her hooves was foreign to Dash, and the pressurized altitude suit encasing her petite form compounded her discomfort. Despite the fact that the Theta Division squad was well within Griffon Kingdom territory, Dash was eager to leave the confines of the Albatross.
The pilot’s voice flanged in Dash’s tinny helmet speakers. “Beginning sensor field avoidance. Brace for maneuver.”
No sooner had the pilot cut off the transmission than the Albatross banked to the right, avoiding the edge of the early warning sensors’ range. The operatives inside shifted their weight to compensate, leaning on the opposite legs when the machine reversed its roll to turn the other direction. Though the bank was sharp, the seasoned operatives were unfazed by the steep angle.
Dash prayed that the intelligence on the griffons’ sensors was accurate. The XM-1 was neither small nor stealthy. If the sensors could see up past the predicted twenty-seven thousand meters, the team would be jumping straight into Tartarus. She had not given much consideration to how she wanted to die, but face-down in a swamp on a different continent was not how she pictured herself going out. A spectacular crash during a Wonderbolts training session, perhaps, but not belly-deep in rotting muck five thousand kilometers from home.
The aircraft’s bank began to decrease, finally slipping back into level flight. “Sensor field cleared. Beginning approach to DZ. Ninety seconds to jump.”
Iron Forge shuffled his way to the rear ramp, briefly removing his helmet to shout over the dynamos’ roar. “Y’all heard the mare! Make sure everypony’s squared away for the jump! Final equipment check!”
With practiced efficiency, the operatives double-checked the straps and seals on each other’s suits for functionality. Weapons were secured, parachutes adjusted, crystal comms tested.
“Sixty seconds. On DZ approach vector.”
The sergeant at the rear raised his voice again. “One minute! Line up for jump!” He pumped his foreleg up and down in a clear nonverbal signal for those who could not hear him over the din outside. The operatives formed two orderly lines in the cargo bay, all mentally reviewing the jump procedure. Dash took her place near the end of the line. Her slight frame would result in a low terminal velocity, raising the dangerous possibility of a midair collision should a heavier pony catch up to her during the jump.
“Thirty seconds. Red is on. Red is on.”
A bright red light lit up above a lever near the tail ramp. After securing his helmet’s pressure seals, the stallion yanked the lever down with a grunt. Servos whirred as the ramp lowered, quickly overpowered by the roaring wind outside. The stars were obscured by a thin layer of cirrus clouds, keeping the world pitch black as the ponies prepared to jump.
“Ten seconds to green.”
Dash could barely hear the pilot’s announcement over the blast from the dynamos and three-hundred-kilometer-per-hour wind outside. She tensed her muscles, readying herself for the jump ahead. In those last few seconds, she felt a vestige of her past self get excited at the stunt she was about to undertake. No pegasus could fly nearly as high as the Albatross was carrying them, making the experience unique even to her standards. No wings, little control… just pure freefall for thirty kilometers.
“Five seconds.”
Dash watched the mission clock tick down on her heads-up display. The seconds passed impossibly slow, barely crawling down from five to four, three, two, one… and finally zero.
“Green is on! Green is on! Green is on!”
Rainbow galloped forward three steps and stepped into the darkness, allowing gravity to take over. The inky blackness of night completely surrounded her, taking away all sense of direction. The only thing keeping her properly oriented was the artificial horizon projected on her faceplate. Her squadmates were displayed as blue diamonds below her, separating to a safe distance from each other. They formed a rough circle as they descended, all facing inwards.
The altimeter on Dash’s faceplate spun down at a dizzying rate as she approached terminal velocity. Her pressure suit pinned her wings to her side, creating an extremely unnatural sensation as she plummeted to the earth with a fraction of the control she had grown used to after years on wings. Flashes of Discord’s first return played through her mind. It was only through sheer force of will that she kept herself from panicking.
As she passed through 25,000 meters, she saw the blue diamonds representing the first jumpers begin to slip away, falling faster than their lighter teammates. Her sense of weightlessness passed as she finally reached terminal velocity, replaced with the paradoxical feeling of ‘stationary speed’. Inside her helmet, the world was nearly silent. The only indication she had that she was going anywhere at all was the altimeter that clocked a constant rate of descent in the predawn darkness.
The Captain’s voice filtered through her helmet speakers. “Approaching high-altitude patrol level. Initiate comm silence. Proceed to individual vantage points after you touch down.”
Shearing winds buffeted the formation as they descended, blowing some of the lighter team members out of position. Dash adjuster her body as much as possible to counter the sharp gusts, but without her wings, she was more or less at their mercy. She tapped a button on her foreleg, displaying her projected path of descent. Much to her relief, it was still within the designated landing zone, but only just.
Two minutes into the descent, the first purple streaks appeared on the eastern horizon, signaling the imminent dawn. The jump had been timed perfectly. They would touch down and regroup in darkness, but the longer, more difficult trek to their target would be made with morning’s light to assist them. It was perfectly timed to allow for stealth when necessary and speed when possible.
The descent continued. Air roared past Dash’s helmet, thundering in her ears despite the insulating suit separating her from the atmosphere. Her only indications that she was not alone were the slowly spreading blue diamonds marking the location of her airborne teammates. Though the formation was beginning to fragment, everypony was still on course to land comfortably inside the LZ. So far, so good.
Suddenly, her mind went completely blank. All her worries and nervous energy vanished in an instant. The uncomfortable sensation of falling without wings passed, replaced with an adrenaline rush the likes of which she had not felt in years, not since her Sonic Rainboom while rescuing Rarity and the Wonderbolts. Excitement began building within her. This was something new, something simple… something exciting!
The last vestige of Dash’s situational awareness checked her parachute’s auto-deploy altitude before it was completely overwhelmed by the sudden shift in her mindset. No sooner had she finished checking than her mind was overrun with the kind of unchecked giddiness she had not even realized she missed. For the first time in months, Rainbow smiled in sheer joy. She let out an ecstatic cry as she hurtled towards the ground, trusting her life entirely to the mechanical systems strapped to her back.
Five minutes of descent passed like seconds as adrenaline coursed through Rainbow’s veins. Those few minutes were an island of carefree reverie in the midst of her high-stakes life. Dash was certain that if her suit were still broadcasting vital signs, the team commander would have sidelined her immediately, but in her thrill-seeking high, she could hardly have cared less.
A sharp yank on her suit brought her back from the unexpected reprieve. She looked up to see her parachute fully deployed, its edges flapping wildly as it slowed her rapid drop to a gentle floating descent. Her altimeter read six hundred meters when she reached her final speed of five meters per second.
Glancing below, she could just barely make out a twisting ribbon amongst the dark canopy stretching around her. It curved and undulated against the landscape, reversing direction only to fold back over itself again and again. If I can manage to squeeze myself in there, she thought, I won’t have to go into all of the trouble of getting my chute out of the trees. Thank Celestia, because that whole process is totally uncool.
She shifted her weight against the suit’s harness in an attempt to subtly alter the course of her descent. The parachute sluggishly complied, tilting enough to send her towards the thin band cutting across the jungle. Dash was feeling very satisfied with her judgment and performance when she came to a very disturbing realization.
Oh, ponyfeathers. That’s a river.
Rainbow frantically tried to alter her course once again, but the damage had been done. She floated down below the trees and hit the river’s surface with a loud, gurgling splash.
She fought to untangle herself from her parachute as it landed on top of her, swirling along with the river’s flowing eddies. Her suit provided more than enough air, but an innate sense of panic gripped her nonetheless. The release button for the harness eluded her for nearly a minute before her wild flailing managed to find it. The straps came loose from her pressure suit, taking the tough fabric of the parachute along with it as it floated along with the river’s current.
Come on, Dash! That was sloppy! You’ve been trained better than that. A Wonderbolt wouldn’t have made that mistake.
Popping her head above the surface, Dash swam toward the muddy bank, wrapping her forelegs around the roots of gnarled, ancient trees worn smooth by years in the water. The river’s current was gentle enough that she was able to resist the force without straining herself, but it was still enough to warrant a swift exit lest she lose her balance.
Alright, no harm done, really. You gotta pick yourself up from here and finish the mission – no more mistakes. You can do this.
Pulling herself from the murky water proved more difficult than she would have imagined, as the banks were steep and covered in foliage slick from the previous night’s rain. Her first attempt ended when she slipped on a wet fern, bouncing off the roots before falling on her rump into the shallows below. She stood up after an embarrassing few seconds, gingerly rubbing her hindquarters. Newly educated as to the bank’s hazards, she waded downstream towards a likely looking site and hoisted herself up, careful to avoid the waxy leaves of jungle undergrowth.
After a minute’s difficult ascent, Rainbow reached the top of the riverbank. She paused before finally setting her hooves on level ground. She heard no voices or odd rustling; nothing to suggest she had been detected. Keeping herself as low as possible, she slipped into a thicket of gnarled roots, scanning the jungle around her for movement.
She quickly discovered that such a thing was impossible to avoid in the rainforest. Despite the early hour, birds and primates had already taken to the forest canopy, shaking branches along their paths. Broad leaves shook each time a water droplet impacted from above, creating a cascade as even more water fell onto the leaves below. A thin fog rolled in along the damp floor, escaping the riverbed that had imprisoned it so far. Insects filled the air with their droning hum as they traced looping arcs between tree trunks and giant ferns.
In the multitude of activity, though, there was no griffon patrol to be found. Dash was alone.
She reached for the seal on her helmet. Her hooves had difficulty getting purchase on the wet knobs, but she eventually was able to unlock the airtight barrier that had kept her breathing on the way down. With a quiet hiss, the suit’s integrity yielded to the surrounding air.
For a brief moment, Dash thought she was still underwater. She quickly realized, however, that she was simply breathing the oppressively humid air of the jungle. The First Sergeant’s description echoed in the back of her mind. Like swimming in the frickin’ air. She had a new appreciation for what he meant as the muggy jungle pressed on her without mercy.
The damp air was not alone in offending her senses. Even before sunrise, the air was hot, hotter than the worst heat wave Ponyville had suffered in living memory. She was sweating within seconds of unsealing her suit, and the stagnant humidity kept her fur matted with her own perspiration. The duo of heat and humidity made the already uncomfortable jumpsuit unbearable.
She quietly stripped down the rest of the pressure suit, revealing her body in full. Gone were her namesake mane and sky-blue coat, replaced by a drab green with sage stripes across her face and body, mimicking the shadows cast by dense foliage surrounding her. Her bodysuit had been stripped down and dyed as well, sporting the same camouflage as the young operative. Even the already-light armor plating had been removed. Stealth was her best defense, and any extra weight would simply cause her to sink further into the belly-deep muck she would be wading through en route to the observation point.
Removing the suit while hiding in the thicket was an exercise in patience and restraint, but she eventually freed herself entirely. The black pieces were thrown into the river, immediately sinking out of sight in the muddy water. Thus lightened, she checked her camouflaged bodysuit for her only three pieces of equipment. A single earbud was attached to the crystal comm on her back and secured around her right ear. A see-through display, when held up in front of her, highlighted the best path towards her observation point with a dim red glow. Concealed on her belly was the dagger she hoped would not be necessary.
Dash looked into the dark jungle once more, still unable to discern any patrolling silhouettes moving about in the predawn hours. When a minute passed without any activity, Dash slowly crept from her hiding place, careful to disturb as little foliage as possible. The natural ambiance of the rainforest, though spooky and slightly disquieting, masked the sound of her movements nearly flawlessly. Combined with her dyed coat and the near-blackness of the early hour, she would practically need to run into a hostile patrol for them to discover her presence.
She patiently made her way through the forest on light hooves, leaving as little trace as possible. Every dozen meters or so, she would check her display to ensure she was still heading in the right direction. She would often have to take a detour around fallen trees or suspicious clearings, occasionally losing her bearings while navigating such obstacles. Nevertheless, her progress continued steadily. She covered the first five hundred meters in an hour, slowly witnessing the light return through the dense canopy above as she pushed past giant ferns, horsetails, and pitcher plants.
Rainbow was less than three hundred meters away when she heard an unnatural series of rustles to her right. She froze immediately, eyes darting back and forth in an attempt to locate the source. The sound repeated itself. Dash quietly melted back into the shadows, concealing herself among the leafy fronds of the rainforest floor.
The sense of dread that had preceded every contact with warriors of the Griffon Kingdom was less intense than in weeks previous. Her mind was becoming a finely honed weapon, concentrating on her response should she be discovered more than panicking at the prospect of combat. She still had to suppress her initial fight-or-flight response, but it was muted, as though it were speaking through a closed door.
Through the swirling mist, three dark silhouettes appeared, marching single file along a hidden path. The repetitive telltale sound of claws and paws pushing through the dense undergrowth grew louder, confirming Rainbow’s suspicions. Within moments, the silhouettes sharpened into the imposing figures of griffon warriors on patrol.
Something was off with the small squad, though. Dash’s previous experiences with soldiers of the Griffon Kingdom told her that they were cunning, predatory creatures, always alert for signs of their enemies. The three-strong patrol passing by her, though, seemed to share none of the attributes for which their race was known. Their eyes were half-lidded and unfocused, lacking the sharp scanning motion inherited from their raptor ancestors. Tufts of fur gathered jungle grime as their tails dragged along the muddy ground. Their movements were slow and sloppy, constantly disturbing foliage and making noise. From her hidden position beneath a broadleaf plant, Dash could have sworn something had swapped the griffons for a far less imposing opponent.
The patrol passed without incident, failing to notice the intruder barely three meters away. Rainbow gave them time to venture further into the jungle before moving from her hiding spot. She silently thanked whatever forces had caused the legendary griffon warriors to lose their edge. If they hadn’t been so sloppy, she mused, if they’d just watched where they were walking, I’d have bumped straight into them.
She filed the incident away for later recall, pushing forward into the vegetation once the squad had sufficiently vanished into the mist again. I dunno what’s gotten into them, but it’ll be useful intel to pass once I reach the ship.
A light drizzle began to fall as she shuffled through the jungle, beads of moisture rolling off the oily dye on her coat. The extra moisture did little to dissipate the oppressive heat all around her, merely making the forest floor muddier and more slippery. Her progress was slowed even further, but after fifteen minutes of fighting through the vegetation, she finally reached her destination.
A shiver ran down her spine as she noticed a slight tremble in a large plant near the ridge. Cautiously, she drew the dagger from its sheath on her belly, gripping it tightly between her teeth. The leaves shook again, rustling slightly as something within stirred. Dash lowered herself into the vegetation, her hind legs ready to propel her onto an ambushing griffon.
Thirty seconds passed. A minute. The hot mist swirled in small eddies around her hooves, filtering into the leaves of the suspect undergrowth. There was no movement. Another minute passed. Dash fluttered her wings nervously. Something had caused the plant to move, but whatever it was either left quietly or was keeping very still.
She debated using the identification codeword and response, but that meant giving away her position – tactically, a very poor choice. On the other hoof, if she was walking into an ambush, they already knew she was nearby. It was a bad situation, and she was not going to sit around and let the enemy seize the initiative. She tucked the dagger under her wing and, in her best stage whisper, called out the code word.
“Smoke!”
After a moment of complete silence, her heart sank. She gripped the dagger and leaned into her hind legs, coiled like a spring. Whatever was out there was about to get a first-hoof lesson in pain.
“Round!”
The word caught Rainbow off guard. Sure enough, it was the proper counter-response. Dash crept from the concealing shadows, sheathing her dagger. A small stallion rose from the bushes, warily eyeing Rainbow as she approached.
“What were you waiting for?” she hissed. “I was about to slice you to ribbons!”
“Waiting for?” the stallion replied angrily. “You nearly scared the Celestia-damned life outta me! Why did you approach like a tigress on the hunt?”
Dash rolled her eyes. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, pal, but we’re in griffon territory! Would you be happier if I’d set off some fireworks? Maybe break into song?”
The stallion rubbed his temple, unwilling to admit defeat. “Whatever. Let’s get the surveillance set up.”
The ridge gave an unobstructed view of the concrete structures below. Several pre-fabricated buildings were clustered around a central warehouse, into which a large team of griffons pushed carts loaded with large wooden crates. Individual guards patrolled inside the perimeter, occasionally glancing into the canopy outside the wall. Dash could see two gates leading into the dense foliage, each occupied by several guards checking shipments in and out.
“Big production they’ve got going on down there,” Rainbow whispered. “No wonder Colonel North Star wants to know what they were up to.”
“No kidding.” The stallion prodded the jungle floor with a camouflaged hoof. “The dirt right here should be enough to support the recording device. Set it up under this fern.”
Rainbow lowered herself to the ground, blending in with the undergrowth. She retrieved the clear display and held it before her, pressing a small red button on the side. The letters REC in the top left corner assured her that the small device had indeed switched modes and was recording the complex’s activity. She folded out a pair of long, thin legs and secured the device in the soft earth, careful to maintain a full view of the clearing.
Satisfied that everything was secure, she untied a length of fabric from her leg and wrapped it around her muzzle – a trick she had learned during infiltration training to suppress snoring. She settled near the fern’s base, curling into a ball on the damp rainforest floor.
“Wake me in a few hours,” she said with a yawn. “We’ll switch off until we exfil tomorrow.”
“Can do,” the stallion whispered. “I’ll rouse you at 1200.”
With a final check that she was safely hidden under a large fern, Dash settled in for the most awkward nap she had ever taken.
---
0322
13 JUN 05 MIL-STD CAL
Dash awoke to an incessant buzzing in her ear, not unlike many similar disturbances in her attempted jungle naps. Even with the camo dye’s supposed insect-repellant properties, she had been swarmed by bugs ever since lying down beneath the fern. Her hope that the six-legged demons would retire with the sun proved to be not only inaccurate, but completely the opposite of reality. The discomfort was compounded by the fact that she could not make any sudden movements to swat the repulsive creatures away, lest she give up her position to any guards who happened to glance in her direction.
She groggily rubbed her ear, hoping to drive off whatever insect had taken an interest in her. Rather than dispelling the noise, though, her efforts brought it into sharp relief.
“…engage unless no alternatives are available. Wrap up your gear and rendezvous at Rally Point Golf at zero-four. No single fliers – stick together. Repeat, all units, this is Chandelier. Mission is being cut short. Prepare to exfiltrate in five mikes. Leave no gear behind. Do not engage unless no alternatives are available…”
Dash cocked her head in confusion. They were leaving early? The original orders were for twenty-four hours of surveillance before leaving. They were barely at eighteen. What had changed?
Her mute questions were interrupted when her teammate stuck his head under the giant fern, whispering as loud as he dared. “Dash! You awake?”
“Ugh… I think so…”
“You heard the comm?”
“Yeah…”
The stallion nodded curtly. “Let’s go, then. We gotta pack this thing up before we head out.”
His head disappeared into the darkness beyond, leaving Dash alone under the fern. She yawned the last of her sleep away, stretching her limbs before climbing out from under the leafy plant. Her teammate had already removed the recording device and was in the process of shutting it down for transport. Rainbow arched her back, unfurling her wings to their full span in preparation for the new plan. There had better be a really good reason they’re making us pack up at half-past three in the morning…
Her partner hoofed her the recording device, which she stashed in its original pocket on her bodysuit. With a final yawn, she shook off the last of her sleepiness. “Ready to go?”
The stallion nodded. “Anytime. Rally point’s fifteen klicks southwest. We gotta stay low and fly an erratic route. With any luck, the sensors will think we’re birds until everypony else rendezvous with us.”
Rainbow eyed him suspiciously. “And then what happens?”
With a grin, he produced two oblong metal pods from his saddlebag. “Broadband signal jamming. Once we fire these puppies up, the griffons will be blind as bats. By the time they figure out what’s going on, we’ll already be over the ocean.”
“Doesn’t sound very stealthy,” Dash remarked. “I thought this was an infiltration mission.”
The stallion shrugged. “We’re already doing an emergency regroup. I’m guessing somepony got found.” He motioned to the sky. “Shall we?”
Wordlessly, Rainbow took wing, followed closely by her partner. They skimmed the treetops, glad to be leaving the damp, oppressive air of the rainforest behind.
---
1004
15 JUN 05 MIL-STD CAL
For the first time in over three days, Dash could appreciate her namesake mane and soft cyan coat. The oily dye had blended perfectly with the waterlogged vegetation in the Griffon Kingdom’s southern jungles, but it was not particularly comfortable, especially after wearing it for eighty-plus hours. The ship they had met after fleeing the rainforest had a malfunctioning water purifier, leaving nothing for showers or sinks. It was not until their return to the Hub that the operatives were able to remove their camouflage.
After a long, thorough shower, Dash trotted to the same briefing room she had sat in during the mission brief. Her mind pondered the operation. She still understood neither the facility’s purpose nor Colonel North Star’s interest in it, which worried her. There was something about the Colonel that made her suspect he had more than ‘actionable intelligence’ in mind when he had decided to snoop around the complex.
Everything else, though, seemed to be going well. From an objective standpoint, the mission had gone about as well as could be hoped. Despite the early evacuation, they had still gathered hours of surveillance data from multiple angles. Their infiltration had gone undetected. Judging by the lack of harassment on the way to the ship, the same could likely be said of their exit. Even her little slip-up in the river had not cost them anything.
Rainbow smiled to herself. It was about time something went right. Everything since her first encounter had gone sour in some way, and she was beginning to suspect she was jinxed. Her old confidence was beginning to re-emerge, as evidenced by her arrogant strut as she sauntered down the concrete corridors of Theta Division’s Headquarters. Ponies who knew her as a quiet, confused newbie were doing double takes at the young pegasus mare who now trotted around with her head held high. One operative, though, finally saw the pony she had known so long ago.
“Lookin’ good, Dash!”
She looked over her shoulder to see Gilda float down beside her. The griffon offered her claw for a bump, which Rainbow accepted with a smile. “Last week, you looked like a hatchling who’d lost her mommy. Now you’re walking around like you own the place. Did those weirdoes in Psy Ops get to you or something?”
Dash chuckled. “Nah, nothing like that. Just glad to have things finally go my way, y’know?”
“You mean your latest op?”
Dash nodded, a self-satisfied grin plastered on her face.
Gilda returned the expression. “I know the feeling. That first break is a real game-changer, isn’t it?”
“No kidding. I was starting to think I’d made a unicorn mad and earned myself a curse or something.”
Gilda snorted in reply. “Yeah, you’d love an excuse like that.” She cleared her throat, preparing her best imitation of Rainbow’s voice. “’It’s not my fault! I was only flying so terribly because somepony cursed me!’” she whined, adding an excessive crack to her voice at the end of her taunt.
Scowling, Dash elbowed her handler. “I don’t sound like that,” she mumbled.
“That’s totally how you sound, dude.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes rather than admitting defeat.
Sensing her victory, Gilda savored the feeling for a few seconds before switching the topic. “So, Dash, I got an early look at the preliminary intel reports from your past couple of missions.”
Dash’s ears perked. “Oh yeah? How do things look?”
“Huh? Oh, terrible,” Gilda replied, waving her claw dismissively. “The situation’s going to Tartarus in a tote bag. That’s not what I’m talking about, though.”
She glanced around, making sure nopony else was in earshot. She leaned in, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “A friend of mine in Theta let me in on their next move. He couldn’t say much, but he did say we’re pretty much done sitting on our haunches and waiting for something to happen.”
Rainbow cocked her head, unsure of what to make of her friend’s rumor. “Oh yeah? W-what’s that mean?”
Gilda leaned back, shrugging. “Couldn’t say. But if I had to guess, I’d bet we’re finally gonna take the fight to those dweebs with their lame clans and junk. Nip things in the bud before it starts a full-blown war, y’know?”
“Uh, maybe it’s just because I’m new here,” Dash replied, “but I don’t see how more fighting will stop a war. Won’t that just make the Griffon Kingdom angrier?”
“If the Griffon Kingdom was actually behind it all, yeah, probably. But Theta Division’s been very busy.” Gilda scanned the concrete tunnel for unwanted listeners, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “That ship you hit on your last op was registered to Nor’easter Heavy Industries. It’s a griffon-owned company out of Moscrow that makes everything from construction machines to military hardware. They’ve got a ton of government contracts in the Kingdom, but not all of their business is what you’d call ‘legitimate.’”
Dash grimaced. “A company? You mean this could all be about money?”
“Oh, yeah. And it gets worse. The communication equipment recovered from the arctic? Nor’easter Heavy Industries.”
“Let me guess,” Rainbow interjected. “The complex we spied on was owned by Nor’easter.”
“Eh. Almost. It’s a government facility, but Nor’easter has a lot of crates stacked up there. Probably a bunch of geeks doing R&D.”
“Great. So it’s bunch of ironmongers,” Dash grumbled.
Gilda shrugged. “War’s profitable if you’re the one selling the weapons.”
“Ughhh,” Rainbow groaned. “That had better not be the case. I’d spit my bit.”
They reached the briefing room’s door. Gilda entered the access code on the keypad, stepping back as the sealed door hissed open. “Well, this debrief should be very educational. Let’s go find out what the eggheads have to say.”
Dash extended a hoof to the open door with a mock bow. “After you.”
Gilda rolled her eyes as she passed. “You’re such a dweeb.”
NEXT CHAPTER: “For Valor”
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twenty-seven thousand kilometers
It can see us right now as we're planning this operation!
Woohoo! More RAID!
Very nice chapter.
The missions are always awesome, apparently even when nothing goes wrong.
Hell, there wasn't even an explosion, and as far as I know no one died, yet you still managed to make it tense and exciting.
Bravo!
Me gusta mucho.
The op was very well done, I was on the edge of my seat the whole time.
[youtube=ScNNfyq3d_w]
(some very fitting music!)
I like the story itself but I'm left wondering what in the world is Rainbow Dash's cover story? She goes to qualifying for the Wonderbolts and all of Ponyville knows it. What could she tell the rest of the Mane 6 that would make them be okay with not having a clue about what RD does for the next 5 years? RAID secret, so she can't outright tell them. And its kinda obvious if you don't fly in a Wonderbolts show.
Let alone what would happen when RD goes on leave back to Ponyville and has to lie to their faces. Again, enjoying the story but I'm just not seeing how this works out for the rest of the Elements.
More fitting music
(theirs a pattern with these songs, guess what it is)
[youtube=FV-a2P6zPco]
[youtube=dxytyRy-O1k]
I'm enjoying this. I like the character growth, I like the military jargon flying around. I find the organization of RAID and its secrecy (complete with elaborate underground base!) a little silly, but that's okay too. I think the characterization of Dash works, but I'm not entirely sure about Gilda. She seems a little bland. It might be because there's actually a surprisingly small amount of interaction with her. I'd also thought that she'd have stronger opinions about the possible war with the Griffons (and in general, really), but it doesn't detract too far. I would have pegged her more an active, gamma-division type rather than a handler, myself.
Anyways, thumbs up. I would like to see more.
Hey when is this gonna update?
Any chance of an update? D:
This is so epic! More people seriously need to discover this!