ECRL: The Wonderhawks

by WildFire15

Plenty of Practice

Rules, rules, rules, rules rules. Why were their so many freaking rules, Lightning Dust couldn’t help but wonder. Flying around in large, ornate circles shouldn’t be this complicated or celebrated so much.

When Spitfire had invited Lightning Dust to Canterlot to discuss the idea of racing, Dust couldn’t help but feel it would be a wasted year. Spit obviously thought she was fantastic and fantastic flyers flew in the Wonderbolts so why Spit thought she needed to throw herself into what was an entirely different kind of flying evaded her completely.

After training and ‘studying’ for two months, she still hadn’t fully gotten her head around why there were so many flags and why there were so many different meanings for each one, what they were doing and how many there were. Was there really an honest difference between one and two waved yellow flags? The blue flags still sounded like an implied insult, meaning ‘get out of the way, fast guys coming through’.

She hadn’t spent an enormous amount of time with her teammates. Rainbow Dash she already knew, the self-righteous Pegasus unwilling to do what it took to win while Concorde was just odd. To her, he was arrogant, more French then British as he considered himself, but it seemed few other ponies saw that. Whether he was serious or not seemed to hinge on the flip of a coin, one moment laughing and telling weird jokes while the next he could seemingly be so focused you’d need to hit him to get his attention. He was quick on his wings, she gave him that, but he was physically weaker than she was, usually not carrying as much in the way of weights when they went hiking for fitness purposes and the one time he’d suggested hoof wrestling, she’d thrown him off his chair with ease.

Usually when they weren’t training, Dust would go back to her room to continue weight training. The best never stopped and while the others laughed and joked, she would continue to get better and achieve her dream of being the best Wonderbolt ever, just like her grandfather.

***

The three racers readied themselves ahead of their latest practice session on a small track they’d built themselves next to Sweet Apple Acres. Fleet was having the three of them take turns flying in each other’s high speed wake ahead of Cloudsdale, which featured a long fast section called the Morning Glory. This part of the track would be the longest section of full speed track they would race on, roughly two thirds of it being at supersonic speeds and staying in a straight line in the wake of twenty three other supersonic ponies would be incredibly difficult.

Dash knew there were other supersonic Pegasus around but she rarely gave them much thought. After a quick bit of research thanks to Twilight, she knew none of the other racers could fly as fast as she could in a straight line, but after Concorde showed them up in Canterlot and throughout their practice on their test track, she now knew that wasn’t much to boast about in a racing context.

Their little track was set up well away from Ponyville, a basic oval track which they were using, with four hairpins that made up an optional infield track which she, Cloudchaser and Flitter had constructed. Concorde had offered to help before he nearly created a torrential storm that would have flooded Sweet Apple Acres and agreed to sit quietly on the platform, which had been erected next to what was the start finish line for Ratchett, Spanner and Maffett to stand on and relay information to their fliers.

“We ready, kids?” Fleet asked, hovering above the platform. Each flyer’s helmet was equipped with a radio and camera so their spotters could see what they could and talk to them. Fleet had an override command so she could talk to all three at once.

“Ready.” Dash replied simply, crouching down on her front legs and stretching her back to try and get her suit comfortable. While Rarity spent the last month working on their actual race suits, the three flyers wore simple white spare suits, helmets and boots. Dash couldn’t stand the mouth guard, but after Concorde’s story of breaking his jaw against a grand stand in a club race she’d opted to put her own feelings about the thing aside.

“Right, we’ll be using the oval for now and I want you to set off and get in line, Dust in front, Concorde in the middle and Dash at the back.” Fleet said. As prompted, Dust took off, followed by Concorde and then Dash, the three gliding around the track as they spent some time warming up.

Fleet had drilled the need to warm up properly into all three of them, having them do a few laps weaving back and forth, speeding up and rapidly slowing down or doing slow, steady raises until they came to a halt and then doing a sharp, quick decent to get their wings and body properly prepared.

The three of them did this, staying in order with a few seconds gap between each other so they didn’t collide. Dust and Concorde had already found themselves stuck in a tree when Dust failed to react to Concorde’s sudden slowing during a warm up.

“Radio check, Dash.” Ratchett said. He could only speak with or hear Dash, so there wasn’t any concern about overhearing anything.

“Check.” Dash replied.

“Good, good. I’m going to use the board for this run.” He said back. In the event of a radio failure, a board was commonly held out over the start line with lap number, position and time gaps to those ahead and behind and being able to understand it at speed was important.

“On the next lap,” Fleet cut in. “I want the three of you to close within a second and start picking up speed. Dust will dictate the pace.”

The whole concept of a time based gap was still a slightly alien idea to Dash, but she closed in on Concorde as he in turn closed in on Dust. As they came around the third and fourth corners, Dust started picking up speed and the two following her chased after.

Until they started practising, Dash had never really found herself in a position where she was following another Pegasus at speed. As the three picked up speed, she could feel the air she was flying through become inconsistent, offering limited resistance while also effectively waving up and down and side to side, causing Dash to shake around like crazy. In theory she could glide quicker in such air, but she had less to use to propel or direct herself

As their speed increased, it became increasingly difficult to see clearly, her eyes getting shaken around so much everything became a blur. She could still make out Concorde and Dust ahead and when they turned, but any particular details simply couldn’t be worked out, especially if it was off to the side of the track. Each time they passed the start finish line, Dash would glance over to the platform to try and see her board as Ratchett held it up, but she could barely make out what it said.

The laps wore on, Fleetfoot occasionally telling them how fast they were going. Dash was admittedly getting bored, the site of Concorde’s hind and tail not exactly filling her with enthusiasm. She started wondering what the new Daring Doo book was going to be called before she realized Concorde wasn’t ahead of her anymore.

She quickly slowed, looking over her shoulder and realizing she had missed the turn. She quickly got herself back on track and flapped her wings as hard as she could to catch back up, which proved fruitless.

“What happened, Dash?” Fleetfoot ask.

“Sorry, sorry! I made a mistake!” Dash quickly replied, still trying to catch back up.

“We’ll check the replay later.” Fleet sighed, before sounding serious again. “When I wave the green flag, I want the three of you to go as fast as you can, using the infield track for twenty laps. You can race if you like, it’s up to you.”

“Got it. Are you still going to use the board, Ratchett?” Dash asked her spotter, but he didn’t respond. She assumed his silence meant ‘yes’.

Concorde was well ahead of Dash now, though he did take the time to look over his shoulder to see where she was as they started a new lap, the three conserving their energy before pushing. As they exited the second corner, Dash looked for her marker points to figure out when to slow and turn into the right hand hairpin that went into the infield, followed by a left hand hair pin, a short straight and into two more hairpins, left then right, that put them back onto the back straight of the oval again. The left to right and vice versa change of direction were one of the few things she could get right, but Concorde was still somehow able to maintain more speed. Now she was behind him, maybe she could get a good video of how he did it and review it later.

Fleet waited for the flyers to complete a few laps before waving the flag as they went by. Despite her best efforts, Concorde pulled away and even passed Dust by the time they’d finish two laps, though at least now Dash was out of their turbulent air she could see her pit board more clearly.

After another three laps, Fleet held out a different flag as Dash crossed the line. It had yellow and red wavy stripes on it and after a moment to remember, Dash realized it meant there was strong wind. Flying in strong wind was incredibly dangerous if not done correctly, Dash remembering everything they had to do to get the content of the reservoir to Cloudsdale the year before.

Dash braced herself, not knowing when she might encounter the wind when it suddenly hit her with its full force. It was over almost as soon as it had arrived as she finished the corner and looked to see if she had gained on Dust yet, before noticing a surprising lack of other racers on track. She looked around and sure enough, no one else was there.

As she flew past the spotter’s platform, she afforded herself a moment to look down and saw Dust jumping back into the air while Concorde was being recovered from a bush by Cloudchaser and Flitter.

The remaining laps passed without anything of interest happening, Fleet eventually waving the chequered flag to bring an end to the morning’s practice. After cooling down for a few laps, allowing herself to glide and remind her limbs they can be directed anywhere other than forwards and back. Once done, she landed on the spotter’s platform.

“Not bad, Dash.” Ratchett remarked as he helped her get her helmet off. “You were three seconds faster on that run.”

“Awesome.” Dash smiled. She hadn’t felt like she’d been going any faster, but at least felt less exhausted then last time.

Dust landed next to Dash, sounding annoyed as she sighed and took her helmet off. Concorde was already back on the platform, his helmet plugged into a laptop computer that was showing footage from his camera which, for reasons she’d yet to work out, was pointing backwards.

He looked intently focused as Dash noticed a familiar purple mane poking over the edge of the platform. She went over to investigate, drawing Maffett’s and Ratchett’s attention before she found Scootaloo clinging to one of the poles holding up the platform, flapping her little wings like crazy to stop herself falling.

“What are you doing, squirt?” Dash chuckled.

“Rainbow Dash!” Someone shouted, making Dash realize Applebloom and Sweetie Belle were stood on the ground looking up.

“We have a message!” Applebloom called, bouncing up and down.

“Hey, I just climbed up here to tell them!” Scooterloo shouted back, annoyed. The fillies on the ground didn’t seem to be paying any attention.

“My sister wants to see you; she’s finished your racing costumes!” Sweetie Belle cheered before excitedly looking at her flank.

“I said I’d tell them!” Scooterloo shouted again angrily, though Sweetie Belle again didn’t hear, instead looking downhearted she hadn’t turned out to be a messenger.

“You having fun there, lass?” Maffett asked, having come over to see what Dash was looking at.

“No!” Scooterloo replied, looking around awkwardly before asking: “Could you help me down?”

“Well, if you three and Maffett go and see her, we’ll pack up her and meet you back at the house.” Fleet said, giving Concorde a nudge to bring him out of his focused trance.

“Sure.” Maffett said, looking like she was suddenly in charge. “Just don’t let those two near the cooker again. They nearly burnt the house down last time.”

“I’m still impressed by that.” Concorde remarked. “You managed to screw up a meal from a book written for idiots like me.”

“It was written for you by your mum, mind.”

“Which is why it’s written for idiots.”

“I’ll keep them away from it.” Fleet smiled, rolling her assortment of flags back up. “Get going.”

***

The four ponies approached the Carousel Boutique, usually described as the most fabulous building in the entire town.

“Why do I feel oddly out of place?” Concorde remarked.

“Is your masculinity being threatened, Corde?” Maffet asked.

“He’s half French, surely he doesn’t have any.” Dust remarked.

“Oh la la, mon ami.” Concorde said in a mock French accent. “C'est pourquoi je bois du thé.”

“Meaning?” Dust inquired, arching an eyebrow.

“That is why I drink tea.” He translated. “Top up the testosterone, you know?”

Dash ignored them as she knocked on the door. Rarity had put a closed sign in the window so she wasn’t disturbed in her creativity, though she had to admit it wasn’t usual for her to take this long over something. Seeing as it was thick material designed to protect rather than look good, she might have had to relearn a few things and a Rarity with a challenge was not something to disturb.

Rarity pulled back one of the curtains to look out at the four.

"Five minutes!" She shouted before closing the curtain. The four of them wondered aloud what she was doing before the door was opened.

“Come in, come in!” Rarity welcomed, leaving the door open for them as she trotted over to three ponikins with sheets thrown over them. The four walked in, Concorde knocking the door shut as he let the others go in first.

Rarity seemed to had been to readjust her mane, likely not being as concerned as normal about it from working so hard. She still had her glasses on and a tape measure around her neck as the three flyers lined up to see what she would reveal.

“The three of you are no doubt sick of those awfully bland white suits you’ve been using for your training so I won’t keep you on tenterhooks over what your race suits will look like.” She said, grabbing the sheets with her magic.

She pulled them off the three suits at the same time. Dash had seen Rarity’s brilliances before and while she hadn’t known how Rarity would fare working on something like this, she was actually really impressed.

The suits shared the same basic design, though in different colours. A lightning streak ran down each side of the suits, starting at the front hooves, running up the legs, along the sides of the body, bulged slightly when it reached the flank so their race number would fit within it and back down the back legs.

Concorde’s suit was scarlet red with a white lightning streak, his number Fifty Two outlined in ruby red while the inside was scarlet. Lightning Dust’s and Rainbow Dash’s suits were the same Wonderbolts blue, but Dust had a golden lightning streak while Dash’s was multi-coloured, matching their respective manes. Their numbers were both yellow with sapphire blue outlines.

Rarity looked at the three racers with a pleased smile on her face, waiting for them to vocalise their awe.

“That’s brilliant!” Concorde smiled.

“It’s awesome!” Dash commented.

“It’s pretty good.” Dust shrugged, uncertain what all the fuss was about.

There was a lengthy pause, as if Rarity was waiting for more praise.

“Where’s my old helmet, out of curiosity?” Concorde asked eventually, looking around. He had been reluctant to let Rarity borrow it but Maffett had suggested it as a possible idea before stealing it from his room. He was very protective of some of the junk in his room, even if he never kept it tidy.

“Oh, Concorde!” Rarity suddenly exclaimed, looking giddy. “That old helmet was so absolutely perfect! I threw out so many designs before I just looked at it and it hit me! It just works! Simple, bold and so striking, I should have seen it sooner.” As she spoke, Rarity seemed to move closer and closer, quicker and quicker, to Concorde, who started backing away when she threatened to have his eye out with her horn. “Darling, your helmet provided the basis for suit’s design!” She eventually finished. Concorde looked completely dumbfounded and uncertain what to do.

“Erm, thanks?” He eventually offered. Rarity just chuckled, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before trotting off towards some boxes stacked by the counter.

“That’s not all, I couldn’t stop with just the suits. Some of the images I found in a Cloud Racing history book Twilight was kind enough to let me borrow showed ponies regularly raced with helmets that clashed awfully with their suits.” She said, looking almost sick of the idea of horrible colour clashes. “I absolutely had to make sure your helmets suited your suits and here they are!”

Rarity levitated a box over to each flyer and placed it in front of them. Dash opened the box and pulled a sparkling new helmet out the padded box. It was the same Wonderbolts blue with two multi-coloured lightning streaks like her suit.

“When I finalized the design, I had to send away for those unfortunately. I don’t have the tools to do helmets.” She said, sounding slightly disappointed. “But I was able to guide the young stallion who painted them.”

“Oh, I also made opening ball suits and dresses for you all.” She quickly added, rushing over to a series of ponikins sat away from the race suits. The flyers hadn’t paid them any notice a moment earlier but now it seemed she was going a step further then just making them race suits.

Dash almost thought she was looking at the dress Rarity had previously made her for the royal wedding, but closer inspection made her realize it was closer to a combination of that dress and her Gala dress with a rejigged laurel reef, brooch and wispy, flowing rainbow that made up the main body of the dress with a cloud like trim. What appeared to be Dust’s dress was similar to Dash’s, only in the appropriate colours with slightly sharper details.

Dash had never wondered if Rarity could make stallion clothing, but judging from the jet black tail coat with jet and ruby buttons, white shirt and scarlet puff tie, she had to admit she was pretty good at that too.

“That is pretty freaking awesome.” Concorde remarked, inspecting one of the buttons on the tail coat.

“Simple, bold and striking.” Rarity smiled, glad he approved.

“Simple’s right when describing Corde.” Maffett remarked, though he ignored her.

“Can I ask Concorde,” Rarity started, gaining Concorde’s attention. “Do your spotters attend the opening ball as well?”

“Aye. Spotters and sponsors.”

“Oh, darling!” Rarity practically squealed with delight, taking them all by surprise, not least of all Concorde as she grabbed his head and stared into his eyes. “I absolutely insist I go with you!” She said, releasing him before continuing which gave Concorde an opportunity to back away again. “We will be the bell of the ball! Oh, and darling,” she said, quickly going over to Maffett and starting to rapidly measure her. “You’ll need a dress as well. Something that brings out the colour in your eyes with a trim to match your hair. Yes, yes, I’ve got it!”

With that, Rarity zipped off into the next room to her other design desk, leaving Maffett looking like she’d been violated and Concorde looking around for a possible swift exit. Dash couldn’t help but laugh at their expressions.

Comments

[Piano pony]

I want to see what their racing uniforms look like.