> Skies Ablaze > by Jetstream S > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > A Relaxing... ish Flight > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Skies Ablaze Jetstream S Chapter One A Relaxing... ish Flight May 13, 2015 0900 hours... "Luke Tower, this is X-ray One and Two requesting taxi and takeoff on runway three eight, bearing one seven three East." "Copy X-ray flight, ATC confirms skies are clear, proceed to runway Three R." Allen pushed the throttle forward slightly, causing the F-35E to roll forward. "X-ray One, contact ground." "X-ray Two, contact ground." Allen turned to see his wing man, Charles, begin to follow. Rolling onto the tarmac from the parking lot, he flipped the switch to go into STOL mode. The muffled humming and thuds of hatches opening and locking met his ears as he let a satisfied smirk come across his face. "Alright Two, enter Short Takeoff and Landing. Tower, thank Air Traffic Control for me." "Copy X-ray." Allen punched right rudder, positioning his jet for takeoff. He turned to his left and right looking back and up, making sure the VTOL fan door was open. Seeing it was, he pressed both rudder pedals, activating the breaks and stopping a few feet short of the main tarmac. "Luke Tower, X-ray One and Two awaiting final turnout." "Yo Allen," asked Charles, "ever been over the Bermuda Triangle?" "Negative Two, I've heard some freaky shit about it though. Why do you ask?" "I'm going over the flight logs, and our little trip to Ramstein is gonna take us right over it." "Well, I'm not one to complain but I thi--" A transmission came over the radio, cutting him off, "X-ray One and Two, you are cleared for takeoff. Unrestricted climb to thirty thousand approved, have fun in the Triangle." "Copy tower, proceeding to primary." Allen and Charles both threw their throttle handles forward and launched down the runway. Aided by the STOL engine, they were airborne in mere seconds. Alright, let's see what this thing can do... Allen raised the landing gear pulled back on the stick, making the F-35E heave into a near vertical climb, followed closely by Charles. His eyes watched as the altimeter began spinning rapidly down, 22,000... 26,000... 28,000... He rolled inverted, pulling on the stick once again to level out on his back, then completed the roll. The result was a smooth transition to level flight at just under 30,000 feet. "X-ray flight heads up traffic eighteen thousand feet northbound radar contact, maintain flight level three zero thousand." "Copy Tower, X-ray One out." Charles pulled up, abreast to his left wing. Allen nodded to him, setting the F-35E's autopilot to only maintain elevator control. He then decided to take in the sights, rolling slightly to the right and looking down at the orange and red desert below. Arizona wasn't exactly the most hospitable state given the intense temperatures, but from the air, it was a sight to behold. Luke Air force Base had extended an invitation to Charles and himself for an air show to demonstrate the new F-35E. Despite some rough weather conditions, the flight went rather well. Charles had the pleasure of doing a very low supersonic flyby for the crowd, busting out some windows in the process. "Luke Center X-ray One contact Miami Center two seven at decimal three four." Allen made a mental note of Luke Center's command, still enjoying the view. He watched as the horizon seemed to split down the middle, head-on. The Grand Canyon. "Two, check it out." Charles looked forward, eying the canyon in the distance. Blinking rapidly twice, the HMD began measuring the distance to the terrain obstruction. "Looks like the Grand Canyon, about a hundred miles out. Why?" Allen thought about his decision for a second, before making up his mind. He switched to cockpit frequencies, only allowing Charles to hear his voice. "I'm gonna pull some Star Wars shit." "Wait wha--" Allen rolled inverted, pulling into a steep dive. The altimeter began spinning, 29,000... 17,000... 6,000... He completed the roll, pulling up as hard as he could. Warning, over G. The computer repeated the message throughout his pull, annoying him more than trying to stay conscious. The familiar death-grip of the G suit around his legs and stomach was the only thing keeping the blood in his head and chest. Nevertheless, the black curtain of a blackout began falling over his vision, just over five hundred feet. The canyon, much closer now, resembled a winding hallway with only the clear blue sky as the ceiling. Charles watched with awe as his flight lead approached the opening of the canyon, descending ever closer to it's gaping maw. Oh God, he's insane... He thought, watching as the afterburner lit up like an orange traffic cone. He pushed the nose down, putting on negative Gs and lifting him slightly from his seat. He loved that feeling. Despite his insanity, Charles would follow him anywhere. I must be outta my mind... Allen approached the opening of the canyon, rolling inverted and activating the ATFR. The Active Terrain Following Radar was standard in the F-35E, and it allowed the HMD to plot a visible course through a canyon or other low level obstruction by use of way points. It also projected the "recommended speed" for each turn it detected. "Alright, time to test this new ATFR out!" He pulled on the stick while inverted, and smoothly rolled into the canyon. Caution, pull up, caution, pull -- Allen switched off the vocal warning system, and it was replaced with not a loud alarm, but a noticeably annoying one. No matter, Allen would not be denied his fun, no matter the risk or annoyance. The first turn was coming up, and he activated the rudder brake, making him slow to three hundred knots. He rolled to the left, pulling back into a high G turn. He quickly reversed the motion, taking the counter turn even better than the first. Charles simply watched from his higher altitude position, mouth somewhat in an uncontrolled gape. Seeing a straightaway, Allen fire-walled the throttle handle, igniting the afterburner. Realizing the next turn was much closer than anticipated, he pulled up, shooting out of the canyon and rolling inverted. When the half-circle turn returned to another straightaway, he pulled down and rolled back into level flight within the canyon. "Allen, enough man, you're gonna get yourself killed!" Allen paid no heed to his wing man's words as he activated the breaks again, and flew underneath a large rock between the cliff sides. "Woo! Low bridge!" He yelled, oblivious to the fact he was nearly killed. Going nearly five hundred miles her hour, the next obstacle was a very narrow opening between the canyon, where Allen rolled and stood on his left wingtip. Even at the F-35E's thinnest sector, it was barely enough to squeeze through the crack in the rocks. Allen punched right rudder, launching sideways out of the canyon. He barrel rolled into level flight, panting loudly into the mic. "Dude, for fuck sake, you could've been killed! Who exactly is the Flight Lead again?!" "Exactly," Allen interrupted, "so drop it." Charles opened his mouth to speak, but he knew very well to shut it. The silence remained until Miami came into view. "X-ray One-One Miami center, you have us on radar?" "Miami Center X-ray One-One and Two-One radar contact, maintain current flight heading and level, three zero thousand. Be advised, your current flight path will take you into the heart of the Bermuda Triangle. We will loose comms. and radar contact once you enter, so be sure and make it quick. There is a KC-135 Stratotanker en-route to your rendezvous, callsign Delta Two-Seven." "X-ray One-One and Two-One Miami Center, solid copy" Now the pair were out over the ocean, Allen looked at the instrument panel of his F-35E. The large touch screen that displayed everything didn’t seem to align with his current trajectory, or altitude for that matter. He looked at his GPS and through the static saw that he was indeed in the Bermuda Triangle, the area known for disappearances and extreme magnetic disturbances. Even though the F-35E Lightning III was technologically superior to that of its predecessors, it’s instruments were not immune to the strange effects of this region. “Allen, … A..en…,” “Looks as though the radio is also bugging up,” Allen said. “Two, are your instruments beginning to bug up?” Allen asked, raising his voice a bit so the mic could pick it up. “Yeah, they’re really jumping around. I think the radar is showing a tanker not far from here. We should fuel up. We got another four hundred miles to the next tanker. Who knows what will happen. A few MIGs can burn our fuel right up.” Allen looked at his fuel gauge. It was pressure controlled, so it was clear and not bugged up. It was a good idea after all. “Good idea Charles. Looks like I have about 2,000 pounds of fuel left.” “That’s cutting it WAY too close man! You aren’t a Viper Driver anymore; the F-35’s engine burns about 25 gallons a MINUTE--” “AT peak thrust,” Allen said, cutting him off. “I see the tanker. Tanker this is Major Allen and First Lieutenant Charles, X-ray One-One and Two-One requesting immediate gas-n-go, fuel state critical.” The tanker didn’t respond as fast as Allen had hoped, and he began to panic at the sight of less than 100 pounds of fuel remaining. His engine began to sputter. He lowered power to slow fuel consumption and it was then the tanker responded. “X-ray flight you are cleared for refueling. IF signatures are cleared, drink up.” Allen's heart began to race as the sputtering increased in volume and frequency. His hand tightened around the throttle, pulling it back farther to slow enough for docking. His hand grasped the stick like the "Oh Shit" handle of an overturning truck. His panic seemed to sharpen his senses, making maneuvering the F-35E somewhat erratic. Faster than he could blink, his hand involuntarily pressed the button to open the fuel receiving hatch. The awaiting fuel boom loomed in front of him, almost taunting. C'mon Allen, low fuel means a chance, no fuel means ejecting over Texas. Not a bad idea, but the 288 million dollar aircraft strapped to your ass might not land so well. His thoughts were halted by the sound of a loud thud. "X-ray One-One, contact." Allen shook his head slightly, wondering what just happened. He saw the fuel boom over his canopy, and by the sound of rushing fuel, he was connected. Wow, my subconscious needs to take over more often... He looked to his fuel gauge, seeing the primitive-looking needle begin rising from zero. He looked from the instrument panel to the plane only a few feet away. Charles held up his hand in a thumbs up position, to which Allen returned. "Alright, you done yet?" Charles asked, the low fuel alarm ringing though his mic. "Releasing dock, you're up Two-One." Allen released the dock, pushing the nose down slightly and pulling up right after. He then barrel rolled over Charles, coming to level flight abreast of his left wing. "Show off..." Charles teased. "Yea well, if you got skill, use it. That's what I always say." "Hold on while I dock, I think I hear my engine dying." Allen assumed a watch position, radar scanning for any potential threats throughout the sky "You know Allen, Ramstein is supposed to be host to the Thunderbirds this weekend... maybe they have word on your application?" Allen looked to his wing man, who was flying steadily abreast of his right wing, still refueling. "Don't know man, They have hundreds of applications, and Thunderbird Three doesn't retire until the twentieth." "Yea, but wouldn't they want a new pilot to be ready before their next show? I mean, having a fresh pilot join right after Three leaves would be like handing a Private a SMAW and telling him to hit a tank from a mile away." He paused, allowing his leader to think on his next words. His reply made him laugh, "You think too much dude." "Hah, I learned from the best." Allen chuckled a bit, and looked around into the sky. His HMD followed his eyes' every move, scanning for threats along his line of sight. Seeing nothing but bright blue, He lifted the visor, disabling the HMD. "Well, looks like it's smooth sailing to Germany. Not another bird for miles." He looked at the long range radar, seeing nothing. "One hundred and seventy miles to be exact," he corrected. Thinking it was going to be a long, boring flight, Allen gave the command to switch to autopilot. Warning, atmospheric disturbance detected. Flight path alteration advised. "Yo Allen, you heard that right?" Charles asked, pulling up closer to Allen's wing. "Yea man, But since when does the F-35E need to change flight paths for a little weather?" Charles dove deep into thought, analyzing the new aircraft's strengths. The new F-35E, operational as of late 2014, was the pinnacle of the F-35 legacy. Fitted with all-new Thrust Vectoring technology, It's maneuverability closely rivaled (or in the hands of a skilled pilot could even surpass) that of the F/A-22C Raptor. Numerous upgrades to the already extremely powerful Pratt and Whitney F-135 Turbofan have made it even more powerful and reliable, and doing so enabled super cruise, a state of flight that allowed an aircraft to fly extremely fast without aid of the afterburner. Along with engine upgrades, The twin air intakes now featured titanium debris screens that could deflect an oncoming bird and almost any other object that threatened the blades of the main compressor fan. To top all that off, the cockpit now featured new and improved visibility, cameras mounted in both rudders for rear surveillance, and a remote canopy opening feature. The fuselage was also tweaked a bit, cornering the round profile of the main fuselage. Instead of a cylinder, it now resembled a trapezoid. This allowed more space for fuel, increasing the F-35E's capacity from 18,000 lbs to over 21,000 lbs. One of the engine upgrades allowed the F-35E to switch to VTOL while in any situation whether it be in a dogfight, or landing on a twenty foot wide plateau in the middle of the desert. It's very first upgrade incorporated a type of artificial intelligence, known as Betty. Betty was responsible for warning the pilot of considerable dangers, such as missile lock, low altitude and incoming threats on the radar. "She" could even strike up small talk on very long flights. In short, the F-35E came as prepared as any pilot would ever need it to be. A sudden alarm broke his concentration, making him face his radar out of instinct. One contact appeared on the screen, unidentified. "Allen, looks like we have an aircraft on radar. Possible bandit bearing one eight three West, one hundred and ten miles out. Looks like its coming from Africa or something." "I guess so," Allen replied, "let's check it out, keep your finger on the trigger." "Got it boss." They both accelerated past mach 1.5, speeding toward the merge. After about seven minutes of super cruise, the distance had closed to just under fifty miles. "Alright Charles, would you like to do the honors?" "Aww, why me?" "Because you love to hear yourself talk am I right?" "Well, I do have the best singing voice out of the squadron..." Charles adjusted his frequency, enabling all radios within range to hear. "Attention unidentified aircraft, this is United States Air Force First Lieutenant Harland of X-ray squadron. You are now entering United States airspace, state your intentions." A few seconds went by before Charles adjusted the frequency more. "Attention unident--" "We heard you the first time Lieutenant. This is Varias One en-route to Tinker Air Force Base from Durban Air Force base in South Africa. "State aircraft specifications," Allen ordered. "C-5 Galaxy, call sign Varias One, along with two F-15SE Silent Eagles of Omega Squadron for escorts. I'm hauling two M-1 Abrams and one Pratt and Whitney F-135 Turbofan." Allen thought about the conversation, and allowed them to pass. "Alright Varias One, maintain current bearing and flight level." "Roger X-ray One, proceeding to primary, Varias out." Allen looked to the east, spotting three glints of metal. There they are. Caution, unknown disturbance detected, three miles current vector. Flight path alteration advised. > The Line Between Student and Master > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Two The Line Between Student and Master Rainbow Dash flew through the skies accompanied by Soarin, and young Scootaloo. Today was Scootaloo’s last flying lesson of the summer, and she was keeping up with them both rather easily. She was getting bored, constantly flying between clouds, following and riding on Rainbow's tailwind, and even occasionally hitting a cloud face fir-- Scootaloo's muzzle met the tip of a Cumulonimbus, igniting a lightning bolt that arced and hit her square in the back. The sudden jolt made her wings lock straight out, allowing a short soar before taking a nose dive. Rainbow heard the thunder, and turned to see a falling orange pegasus trailing a thin line of smoke. Before Rainbow could react, Soarin had already dived from her side after the stricken filly. He caught her in his forehooves, setting her on the grass. "You alright?" He asked Scootaloo looked at him, and smiled. Electricity jumped from her teeth as she did, making her flinch. Soarin couldn't help but laugh. "Wow kid, you could power Rainbow's mansion with your face!" Scootaloo shot him a glare that could melt steel, before slowly retracting and flapping her wings. She rolled on her belly, positioning herself to get up. Rainbow landed next to her, looking over the charred filly. "Careful Scoots, Cumulonimbus clouds aren't exactly the most friendly." She bent down, moving a lock of her mane out of her face with her muzzle. "Are you good to go again with another training run?" “Uhh, no thanks. I’m kinda tired, we’ve been doing this for hours, and I have a Crusaders meeting in a little bit. I want to save some energy so I can fly there. I'll bet Applebloom and Sweetie Belle will be surprised! Thank you both so, so much for everything you taught me!" "Well after two months of being up here, you better have learned something!" Rainbow joked. "Hah, I bet I can keep up with you in a race!" Rainbow's brow shot up, considering the challenge. Sure Scootaloo had grown exponentially since her first day of training, but after only two months she is confident enough to keep up with, no, race her? Uncanny. Scootaloo stomped and slid her left forehoof on the ground, spreading her medium-sized wings wide. Her face finally contorted into a serious expression, sending Rainbow's ego over the edge. She stood with her straightest posture, extending her large wings wide. "Alright Pipsqueak, lets see what you got." Rainbow proceeded to go through her "Stretch-Before-Every-Race" routine, while Scootaloo simply gave her wings a few flaps, hovering a little with each one. Soarin simply stood back, admiring the filly's bravery. Through determined eyes, Scootaloo examined her wings, looking over every feather. She was going to need all the lift she could get. Going against a pony who created the Sonic Rainboom three times, was going to be her greatest (and first) challenge, ever. "Ready kid?" Rainbow asked in a mixed tone of energy and determination. "Yea, but you aren't!" Scootaloo retorted mockingly, but playfully. "Alright Soarin, can you mock up a course for us, a big one?" Rainbow asked, pointing a hoof at the thick cloud cover. "Yea, be right back." Soarin took off with such force that both Scootaloo and Rainbow's mane was blown to the opposite end of their heads. In seconds he was in the clouds, carving a path for the two racers. "Whoa, is Soarin always like that around you?" Asked Scootaloo, quite suggestively. Rainbow blushed and quickly looked away. "The hay if I know..." In a matter of minutes, Soarin was back, following the same route he created through the clouds. "Alright ladies, the course has been mapped from where you're standing, all the way to Sweet Apple Acres." Scootaloo shuddered. Geez, that's like a hundred miles or something... "First to make it there wins." Scootaloo gulped as Rainbow hoof punched the air. "Whoa Soarin, nice one. This should set our little student here straight on who runs things around here..." Scootaloo pushed the thoughts of failure from her mind, focusing on making Rainbow into last week's hay fries. Alright, this is it, focus on the win, and since it's past Sweet Apple Acres, maybe I can give Applebloom and Sweetie Belle the surprise of their lives! The thoughts put her mind at ease, and she readied her stance. "On my mark," Alright Scootaloo, time to prove to Rainbow that you are just as tough as her... "Three," No messing around, time to WIN this!... "Two," Sweet Apple Acres, here I come... "One GO!!" Rainbow shouted, shattering Scootaloo's concentration. Rainbow immediately took off straight toward the clouds, followed closely by Scootaloo. She closed her wings slightly to avoid hitting the tips on the edge of the tunnel. She flapped harder to compensate for the loss of lift. Scootaloo copied her mentor's move, expertly flying through the tunnel. A rainbow streak followed the mare ahead as she darted through the turns. Scootaloo would not be outdone. She effortlessly kept time with Rainbow, corner after corner, until finally a long and wide straightaway loomed before the pair. This is it, time to show her what I'm made of! She flapped just under her maximum speed, darting ahead of Rainbow. Time seemed to slow, as Rainbow's surprised rose eyes locked onto Scootaloo's cool magenta. Scootaloo's eyes narrowed and a slow smile cracked her muzzle, before speeding ahead of her mentor. The bright open sky awaited as Scootaloo burst from the cloud, Rainbow hot on her flank. "You won't get off that easily twerp!" Rainbow flapped harder, catching up to Scootaloo in a heartbeat. Scootaloo hung an agonizing left around a cloud marker, making it spin like a Top. Rainbow copied her move, spinning the cloud into a blur. Scootaloo used the fragment of time Rainbow took to turn, to accelerate to her max speed for a second. This move put her farther ahead than before, angering Rainbow further. Rainbow found Scootaloo to be a challenge after all, and she was obviously hiding her true strength during training. No time to think about this now Rainbow, guess I gotta go all out! Rainbow flapped as hard as she could, whizzing past Scootaloo in a dazzling rainbow colored flash. Scootaloo was stunned for a second, before regaining her composure and speeding up to twice her previous speed. I'm not even close to being finished Rainbow... Several markers lay ahead, dotting the sky a few miles each apart. Rainbow and Scootaloo were muzzle to muzzle, weaving between them. At their speed, each marker flew by only three seconds apart. Rainbow looked over her shoulder slightly, seeing Scootaloo staring back and smiling a very competitive smile. Her eyes suddenly went wide, staring at something in Rainbow's flight path. Rainbow immediately banked left, her right wing carving an upward diagonal line in a cloud pillar constructed by Soarin. Smooth Rainbow, but bad move. Scootaloo increased her speed further, a cone of moisture forming around her figure. She had broken the sound barrier. She suddenly felt unrestricted, and the air seemed quiet. Rainbow had taken the brunt of the sound, made apparent by her holding her hooves over her ears, clenching her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut. Scootaloo used this new found feeling to accelerate even further, plastering her ears against her head and forcing her eyes closed. She felt strange, as though her body was teeming with static. She couldn't open her eyes without them drying to raisins in a second. Despite flapping as hard as she could, she didn't feel like she was getting any faster. It was like an invisible wall was pushing her back, and no matter how hard she flapped, she simply couldn't break through. Rainbow Dash, for the first time in her life, was thoroughly impressed with a pony other than herself. Adding to her delight, this pony was a filly she had taken in, trained, and been a mother to. She watched as Scootaloo was surrounded in the rainbow colored cone, lightning building up around her body. But something was wrong, she should of created the Rainboom already... What was holding her back? No, I'm SO CLOSE... Flap...HARDER!! On the farthest straightaway in the race, the opportunity presented itself for Scootaloo to attempt the unthinkable, the Sonic Rainboom. From what she could tell, she was going faster than any pegasus in the world, except Rainbow of course. She was going straight and level, for if the were to angle down just ten degrees, she would hit the ground in less than two seconds. Even thousands of feet up, gravity would always win. Bastard. She had one foreleg straight, while the other hung in the wind. Her ears and mane were pretty much flattened by the wind, creating no aerodynamic resistance. Her tail was straight, parallel with her back legs. She was pretty much like a rocket, but she still couldn't figure out why she couldn't break the barrier. Her concentration was again shattered by a different source, her left wing. It was cramping up, and she knew she couldn't keep this up for much longer. She flapped with all her remaining strength, feeling the wall begin to budge and bend. Her strength began to fade, and she fell back from her top speed. Rainbow watched with horror as the static began to cease, and the cone began to lose it's rainbow color. She flew to Scootaloo's side, watching through slitted eyes as the filly's face began to contort in pain from exertion. She had to do something. She fell back, contemplating her next move. Thinking for a bit, she decided to literally push her competition over the edge. She accelerated, coming within biting distance of Scootaloo's fwipping tail. She extended her forelegs, connecting her hooves to Scootaloo's, and began to accelerate even more. Scootaloo felt something behind her. It felt like her rear hooves were on something solid, and she forced her head to the side to get a glimpse of what was there. To her amazement, it was Rainbow, and she was smiling. But I'm ahead, I'm winning, and she DOESN'T lose... why is she helping me?! She felt her body begin to slim, as Rainbow pushed her through the sky. She found that she could keep her eyes open slightly, ignoring the pain from the extreme wind. Through slitted eyes, she watched as a cone of prismatic color began to form around her, and the tingling of the static returned. Something was strange. Within the prism of color, she could make out flashes of orange and magenta... "Hey Sweetie Belle, you seen Scootaloo?" Sweetie Belle trotted down from the clubhouse, holding the Foal Free Press in her magical grip. She moved it to the side to lock eyes with a disgruntled Applebloom. She looked to be in a hurry, saddle bags laden with supplies. She trotted from the stairs, using her magic to prop it up. "Sweetie Belle, I thought Scootaloo was gonna be back today for our summer meeting? Didn't ya yell 'er?" "Of course I did, but graduation was a little over two months ago, and she might have forgot." Applebloom stomped the gound. "Swell, just swell, today we need 'er, so can you go get 'er?" Sweetie Belle's eyes seemed to look up, locked on something. Applebloom stared at her for a moment, before following Sweetie's eyes upward across the orchard. Rainbow Dash was losing strength herself, teetering over the edge of the Rainboom. Her wings were beginning to cramp; a feeling she rarely ever felt. She continued pushing, creating a very large prismatic cone around them both. Scootaloo was now regaining confidence and strength, adding to the duo's speed. In one final heave, Scootaloo pushed off from Rainbow's hooves, flapping harder than she ever had before. Thank you Rainbow Dash... All at once, Scootaloo felt a surge of energy, like a wave of power spread from her entire midsection. The world seemed to blur into a pure smooth canvas of upper blue and lower green... "Applebloom, look out!" Sweetie Belle encased Applebloom in her green aura, tossing her like a rag doll into the nearby pond. Sweetie watched as the colorful wave made contact with the ground, sending a visible shock wave in all directions, apparent by the entire orchard leaning to and fro. Trees were ripped from their foundations, and some splintered into millions of shards close to the initial impact. "Uh oh..." she whispered. She raised a hoof to her face, eyes still wide as the wave finally met her. The force was unbelievably strong, tearing her from her stance and throwing her into the side of the clubhouse. The wall gave way, letting her burst right through and careen out the other side. Her back met the trunk of an apple tree, knocking the air from her lungs. The rushing wind was the only thing keeping her back against the tree as she lost consciousness. The clubhouse's now weakened structure finally buckled under the extreme conditions, and collapsed into the wind, covering Sweetie's body in heaps of wood and nails. A confused Applebloom watched from under the water as a wave of prismatic color washed over the above air. The dazzling display was made even more amazing by the rippling of the crystal clear water. Speaking of, she wondered why Sweetie had thrown her in there in the first place. Running low on air, she broke the surface, only to be met with a wind so fierce, her cheeks flew to their extended range. Her eyes were dried in a second, making everything fuzzy to the point of not being recognizable. She dove under, opening her eyes to replace the lost moisture. When she broke the surface again, the wind had died a little, and she could see without inhibition. The scene was horrific to say the least. "Sweetie! Sweetie Belle!" Applebloom shrieked. The clubhouse was all but blown away, the foundation being all that was left. She spotted trees in the distance that had been completely destroyed, accompanied by apple chunks and shredded leaves everywhere. She looked around, frantic. She swam to the shore, nearly bursting from the water onto the shore in a mad dash. Her head whipped side to side, frantic to find her friend. She spotted a mixture of purple and white, a little trail of which leading under the pile of wood and metal. Her heart sank. Scootaloo and Rainbow gradually slowed, making the rainbow trail dissipate and the world become clear once again. Rainbow released her hold on Scootaloo and flew beside her student. They looked to each other, their eyes saying more than words ever could. In just two short months, she had gone from a helpless filly with no flight skills, to the second young mare in history to perform a Sonic Rainboom. Rainbow now truly viewed Scootaloo as a prodigy. Her wings began to seize with ache, and she dropped altitude. Rainbow recognized the filly's dilemma, and flew under her so that Scootaloo could rest on her back. The added weight did little more than tire her wings more, and Rainbow finally resorted to a steady glide. They landed in the outskirts of a very large field, and collapsed in a panting heap. The pair didn't even bother closing their wings, but let them lay limp. They looked at each other, smiling. Rainbow couldn't help but let a tear escape in front of Scootaloo for the first time in her life. "Well, if you weren't tired before, you sure as hay are now I'll bet!" Rainbow said through her panting. She sniffled, lightly punching Scootaloo in the shoulder. Her gesture was met with a quick snore and a stir from the now sleeping filly. Rainbow's heart felt as full as it had ever been, and she painfully extended her wing over Scootaloo. "Sweet dreams kid, see you in a little while..." "Dern it Sweetie Belle! Why'd ya have ta go an' be a hero?!" Applebloom yelled as she dug through the wreckage. She lifted a large board, and blindly reached for another, when her hooves were halted by a loud metallic clang. Startled, she swung her head to look at the obstruction, to come face to face with a pale green dome. in the center, was a peacefully sleeping Sweetie Belle. She was lying on her side, the end of her tail protruding from the dome. Applebloom placed her forehooves on the dome, watching as they created large pulsations upon impact. Sweetie's horn involuntarily flared, taking the contact as a potential threat. A blast of concussive energy blew Applebloom back into the water, along with some debris from the clubhouse. Sweetie Belle jolted awake, making the barrier vanish. She looked around, partially confused. At that point, she was only certain of one thing: her back felt like it was broken in half. Shifting carefully, she stood, waiting for the familiar crack to emit from her back. After she was fully standing, she heard nothing, and the pain seemed to subside. "Hey, Applebloom!" she called. She watched as a large pink bow slowly broke the surface of the pond, a shaken Applebloom attached. Using her magic, Sweetie pulled her from the water, setting her on the shore. "What in Equestria was that?" Sweetie asked, examining the destroyed orchard. "Dunno, but whoevers responsible better pay up, them trees ain't cheap to grow!" > Into The Storm > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Two Into The Storm “Hey Allen, you see what I see?” Allen looked at the radar, and noticed a very large disturbance directly in their flight path. “What do you suppose it is?” Charles asked. “Don’t know, looks like some sort of storm.” “Should we turn back?” he asked. “You think the F-35E, the most technologically advanced fighter in the world, can’t handle some weather?” a long silence sank in as the “Storm” drew near. “Major, just look at it, that isn’t a normal storm. My Doppler radar is totally blank, but the AESA is showing a massive several mile wide object. Like some sort of circle.” Allen had been staring into the blue and violet swirling clouds. The lightning was what made him curious. Not only was it seemingly coming from a circular point, it was black. He also noticed the clouds seemed to be circulating into each other, creating strange patterns. “Have you ever seen black lightning before Allen?! This isn’t good man!” Allen’s controls began to respond sluggishly. He looked to his wing man, fuel gauge, and back at the strange clouds. “Were going in. We don’t have a choice. Look at your fuel.” Charles glanced at his gauge, and to his radar. "There is a base in Florida where we can land until this passes. LOOK at it, that isn’t normal! Permission to break formation.” He wasn’t kidding this time, and he was going to break even if Allen said no. “Permission granted. I’ll see you at Ramstein tomorrow.” “I hope you know what you’re doing Allen.” With that, he aileron rolled to the left, and pulled a very sharp horizontal Split-S. As Allen watched his wing man pull away, a violent bout of turbulence rocked him back and forth in the cockpit. He looked into the massive storm looming before him. “Alright, remember your training.” He said to himself. He lit the afterburner and felt the aircraft lurch forward. Gripping the stick, He slowly rolled the F-35 left and right, creating perfect wingtip vortices. He smiled and watched the glass display as the rear cameras picked up the atmospheric slices. He pulled up while sliding the throttle forward slightly. The wings covered themselves with paper thin walls of white air as he increased altitude, attempting to climb over the storm. Outside, the canopy, the sky began to darken. Even though the sun was unobstructed, everything around the clouds began to turn an unnatural dark. Once again, the black lightning cracked the sky, lighting up the cockpit with it's unnatural glow. Well, this should be interesting.. Warning, outside air oxygen level dropping, unable to sustain combustion. Lowering of altitude is advised. Glancing at his altimeter, he saw through the static that he was indeed well over 65,000 feet, and would soon stall. He immediately rolled the F-35E on it's back, pulling down back into the enormous storm. He didn't have a choice really, his fuel was getting lower by the second and so was his distance from the Florida base Charles mentioned. A threat alarm from the AESA blared in his helmet, indicating the presence of multiple enemy fighters. However, the "storm" seemed to be messing with all the F-35E's functions, including the radar. Why his Doppler radar was completely blank was still a mystery. If the Doppler is blank, that means there is no abnormal weather away from clear skies. But WHY am I staring at a massive storm right in front of me? Another violent bout of turbulence rocked the plane, making his arm fettle the stick. Since the Fly-By-Wire system was so accurate, every movement of the stick resulted in unsettling tips of the plane's balance. It was really making him sick. The lightning again flashed, but this time it was massive, almost solid looking as it literally cut one of the swirling clouds before him in half. "Whoa shit!" He slammed the stick to the right and back, throwing the F-35E into a hard right turn to avoid any more strikes. This move put him in the path of another bolt, and he reversed the motion. Several twists and turns later, he seemed to be out of the lightning core, but the turbulence only increased. What's that...? Allen eyed something, pulsating with light through the thick cloud cover. Curious, he angled his plane toward it. Before he could blink, the strange object increased in size tenfold, and blew all surrounding clouds away. Revealed, it looked like a spiraling whirlpool of liquid. Allen was shocked. The HMD's scanners locked on the enormous disc, unable to identify it. Alert, compressor stall, compressor stall... Allen felt the engine begin to sputter, and completely die altogether. He pulled the stick to the right, left, back and forward, but he only kept moving toward the hole in the sky. "C'MON, DAMMIT!" He yelled, trying to restart the engine. Panic was settling in with extreme prejudice as the disc drew nearer, and nearer, until finally they were less than a thousand feet away. The engine sputtered to life, allowing Allen to maneuver. He pulled back on the stick as hard as he could, but due to his speed, the action only resulted in a crushing maneuver known as the Pugachev's Cobra. The F-35E stood on it's elevators, but did not gain or lose altitude. In all the times he had attempted this maneuver, this was the first (and most inconvenient) time he had accomplished it. His head would have been forced into his lap had it not been for the restraining belts keeping his back against the ejection seat. He looked through the floor of the F-35 at the large green square, the extreme G force was enough to make Allen begin to black out. The last things he saw were a bright flash of light, and a prism of color flash by the F-35E's nose. > Contact > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Four Contact Scootaloo's hind leg twitched slightly as Rainbow lifted herself up from her resting place. The time had passed slowly, leaving the sun close to the four o'clock position. Still sore from the previous hour's little 'exercise', she painfully extended her wings, flapping and stretching them. She looked back to Scootaloo lying in the grass, rythmatic breathing offering a sense of calm. The smile on the filly's face could lighten up Rainbow's day a thousand times over as the reality set in; Scootaloo was now the second mare in history to perform the Sonic Rainboom. Sure she had a little help, but there was no way she would see her little sister fail of she had anything, to say about it. "Finally. Thought you'd never wake up," a voice called from above. Rainbow whirled in shock to see a single cloud and the dark outline of a figure in the center. She flew up, wincing a bit from her stiff wings but making there in about two seconds. Soarin lay there on his stomach, chin on his forehooves and wings flared halfway in a 'what are you looking at' manner. Rainbow's brow shot up and a smile spread across her face as she joined him on the cloud. "I gotta say, clouds are softer than the softest grass," she sighed out. "So why'd you decide to sleep in the grass in the first place?" Soarin replied cheekily. "Heat of the moment?" Rainbow thought out loud. Soarin scoffed and looked down over the cloud's edge to see a lonely Scootaloo still asleep in the grass. "So are you gonna let her sleep on the hard ground all day?" Rainbow blushed as she stood on the edge before suddenly falling backwards off the cloud like a ragdoll. Her wings unfurled at the last second, making her pull up sharply and induce a backwards loop. She landed carefully, closing her sore wings and sitting on her haunches by the sleeping filly. She extended a foreleg out, lightly tapping her on the shoulder and enticing a small mumble. Rainbow swore she heard "five more minutes mom," and her heart skipped a beat... or two. Scootaloo's eyes shot open, her head lifting with a start. Rainbow's head shot back to avoid a painful chin-to-top-of-head collision. "Rise and shine kid," she said in a caring tone shrouded by her natural raspiness. "Hey Rainbow," Scootaloo said as she stretched her legs like Winona. "What time is it?" Rainbow recalled the position of the sun. "About four." "Uh oh, I'm late!" She stammered. Scootaloo rose and stretched her wings, a small sharp inhale emitting as the pain and stiffness showed it's effects. Cautiously flapping, she ruffled her feathers and preened them with expert precision over the course of ten seconds; a record even in Rainbow's book. "Late for wha-- oh right, your Crusaders meeting. Well you better be off squir, I mean, kid." Scootaloo looked at Rainbow, confused. Looks like I've finally grown out of "Squirt". Smiling at her mentor, she turned around and took off with such a force that Rainbow had to shield her eyes from the dust thrown up. Soon, she was merely a black speck heading toward the unknowingly devastated Sweet Apple Acres. Rainbow smiled, admiring her recuperation time. "Geez, after my first Rainboom I couldn't lift my wings after I landed..." "Hey Dash, I just remembered I gotta get to the Academy. Spitfire is putting together a small three-pony air show, but I'm the only other Wonderbolt she could get. She asked me to ask you if you would be willing to fill in?" Soarin called from the cloud. Rainbow's wings painfully extended involuntarily as she looked up, a smile stretching ear to ear. "With bells on my hooves." Soarin smiled and beckoned her with his hoof, launching off the cloud and leaving it in pieces. Rainbow took off, slowly at first, gaining speed as the silent challenge awakened her competitive nature. The cloud course that Soarin had mocked up earlier was still there, slightly drifting apart and creating even more challenging twists and turns. She followed him into it, a piece of cloud instantly hitting her in the face. She shook her head, clearing the piece of cloud only to have a larger one crash into the entirety of her face, making her slam into and careen out of the side. Regaining her composure, she flew along side the tunnel, looking for another entry. A full minute went on like this, before Soarin finally broke free of the tunnel and flew along side Rainbow. They locked eyes for a moment before beelining it toward the academy. Rainbow's natural speed gave her the edge, and seeing the Academy plateau in the distance, easily rushed ahead of her rival. They both landed with a long skid down the asphalt, panting and smiling. "Yeah, yeah, keep smiling Rainbow..." he said tauntingly through his panting. "Hmm, my wings sure do feel better after that little race," she said as she flapped her wings twice, each time sending her five feet into the air. She landed with a loud clop on all fours, eyes again locking with his. "I don't see Spitfire yet, wanna get some grub in the mess hall?" she asked, trying to hide the sudden blush. "Yea, waiting for you to wake up sure did make me hungry." An audible rumble from his belly met both pairs of ears, "edible hay isn't exactly common around the outskirts of Ponyville." Her blush reducing slightly, Rainbow led the way from the tarmac to the mess, watching as the pegasi flew overhead through hoops and hearing the occasional scream of a trainee being launched from the Dizzitron. She laughed inwardly at the poor cadet's howl, but at the same time wished him a happy landing. Ah the memories... Soarin walked behind Rainbow, eyes trying desperately to stay off her toned flank. That cutie mark was the coolest he had ever seen, sure, but the sights didn't cease there. Her unkempt tail and mane fluttered carelessly in the light breeze, accenting her lush cerulean coat. Even though she almost never brushed it, it always retained that natural beauty and straightness he loved in a mare. He quickly turned his gaze away, feeling the arousal beginning to creep between his legs. He directed his thoughts to his first day of Wonderbolt training, and all the horrific screams directed at him. In an instant, his arousal was reduced to zero. Rainbow nudged the door open, and looked back to see a slightly sweaty Soarin stumbling over himself. "You alright?" She asked, sly smile on her face. Soarin's cheeks immediately burned like fire and he turned his head, faking a hurt wing. "N-nothing, just a-a cramped wing that's all. Heh..." Rainbow raised an unamused eyebrow. "Uh huh..." You aren't doing a very good job at hiding it Soarin... She turned back toward the door, visibly swaying her hips with each step. Soarin's blush returned with a vengeance, as he watched her go behind the door, body first, then finally her head with her eyes half lidded and locked on his. "C'mon, I thought you were hungry..." Hook line and sinker... "C-coming!" He immediately fell forward, stumbling over his forelegs. He instinctively spread his wings and flapped as hard as he could, sending him into a high back flip. Coming to his senses in mid flight, he closed his wings Smooth Soarin... Soarin lowered his head a bit, embarrassment creeping everywhere from his spine outward. His legs weakened, and he bit his lower lip to keep from cursing himself. He approached the door to come face to face with Spitfire, and the two exchanged startled glances. "Spitfire? What's up?" Asked a confused Soarin. "Oh, hey," her ears laid flat as a worried expression gripped her face, "did you find anypony else for the demonstration?" "Yea, Rainbow agreed to help and you must've walked right past her as--" "Hey Spitfire!" Rainbow yelled, rushing up to greet the pair and swallowing a mouthful of hay fries. "Hey, hey! Whats up Dash? Glad to hear you could fill in for Fleetfoot, that lazy feather brain..." "Well I've always wanted to be in an actual air show," she said with a smirk. "When do I start learning the moves? The shows in like, a week right? Spitfire glanced at Soarin before giving herself a violent facehoof. "No Dash." she sighed, "it's in an hour." Rainbow's face visibly turned a very light cerulean and her pupils reduced to pinpricks. Her eyes darted between Soarin and Spitfire's faces, a tinge of anger sweeping them both. "Hey, if you can't do it Dash..." Spitfire said, turning away slowly and rolling her eyes. Rainbow's fire was re-ignited by the accusation and she jumped in front of Spitfire, face now more red than cyan. "Who said I was scared? I'm just wondering how in Equestria I'm gonna learn an entire airshow in less than fifty minutes?!" Spitfire raised a hoof, "by not asking questions and paying attention." Rainbow opened her mouth to speak but a quick tap from Soarin stopped her. "Fine, I guess a few hay fries is enough. Let's go," Rainbow growled. Spitfire smiled and raised her eyebrow at Soarin, to which he returned a deep blush and she followed Rainbow from the Mess Hall. ----- "Miami Center. X-ray Two-One, requesting clearance to land." The radio was filled with background transmissions, making it difficult to distinguish landing requests from simple chatter and important updates. "Negative, X-ray, Falcon and Courrier flights are next. Join the pattern." "X-ray Two-One copy." He checked his radar, finding Falcon flight of four F-16Xs already on final approach, and Courrier flight of two F-22Cs preparing for a vertical landing procedure. Circling two thousand feet above the air base, Charles accessed the flight logs for Ramstein's Air Traffic landing check-ins. Xenon, Xanthum, Ah, X-ray. He scrolled down, seeing Three and Four had already landed, but One was still missing. Eh, it's only been two hours. I'm sure he's on approach or something. "X-ray Two-One you are clear for landing on runway Three." "X-ray Two-One, copy." Lining up, he lowered the gear. "X-ray Two-One Miami Center copy gear down." The runway met the tires with a loud screech sending eddies of burnt rubber smoke left and right. "X-ray Two-One base gear, full stop right." ----- Rainbow positioned herself at Spitfire's left flank, poised for takeoff while Soarin took her right. The entire Academy had turned out for this little "airshow" and the rainbow pegasus was beginning to feel the weight of over one hundred pairs of eyes boring into her. C'mon Rainbow remember, you're just as good if not better than these two. Just remember the moves. The cheering from the sidelines brought her thoughts back into focus. Alright, here we go... Spitfire tapped the asphalt three times with her hind hoof, signaling the beginning of the show. As planned, the trio extended their wings slowly, letting the sun warm them. The heat spread over their feathers, allowing them to expand for maximum lift; A visual and beneficial display. Rainbow hadn't known this was possible until twenty minutes ago and this confirmed her suspicions why the sun always made her wings feel a bit larger on occasion. Wings fully extended, the trio began a slow walk, then a slow trot, and finally a full gallop down the runway lifting off in unison. Rainbow and Soarin broke formation in opposite turns left and right, pulling up while Spitfire flew straight and up joining at the peak. Rainbow and Soarin stalled, falling in what looked like a death spiral from the ground. Many ponies below were shuffling in a nervous silence, wondering if this was really a part of the show. "Three..." The ground was rushing up... "Two..." Individual ponies' faces were now visible in the crowd... "One..." Pebbles could be seen in detail... "Pull!" Rainbow snapped her wings out with such force, just the motion blew rocks and dirt everywhere as the tips of her hooves made contact against the ground. Looking over, she saw Soarin had done precisely the same, making startled ponies heave a sigh of relief. Remembering the routine completely, Rainbow rejoined Soarin climbing up to where Spitfire was hovering. They sped up, flipping and extending their hind legs as if to kick her. Again, gasps were heard throughout the crowd as the pair "kicked" and shot past her in a rainbow and dark blue 'X'. Spitfire acted as though she had received both of the pegasus' hooves, spiraling from the sky. But the crowd again exhaled as she activated her smoke cartridges, letting the air around her wings twist the smoke into a perfect spiral column. Rainbow and Soarin, still in the x shaped ascent, activated their own smoke, and back flipped straight down. Alright Rainbow, I hope you have enough juice left for another Sonic Rainboom... Dash began feeling the ache return from earlier. ----- Scootaloo soared over the clouds back toward Sweet Apple Acres. Her thoughts were still locked on the events earlier, as were her wings. Taking off like that did nothing to ease the pain, though it was nice to show Rainbow Dash that she still had some fire left. She rolled on her back, angling her wings up; the result was her diving into the clouds, heading straight down. As she broke free of the transparent sheet, the immediately distinguishable lush greens of Sweet Apple Acres came into view. As she descended, something about the landscape seemed... off. Thousands of apples were strewn across the soft green and tree trunks lay flat. Getting closer, she made out a very long thin dark line stretching out across the entire South Field. On opposite ends of the line, trees were either gone or knocked over facing away. Close to some fallen trees, she made out five distinct figures, the colors of which matched those of the Apple family and Sweetie Belle. She landed close by with a loud "umph!", making all heads turn towards her. "Scootaloo!" Applebloom and Sweetie Belle shouted in unison; their voices had matured a tad deeper since graduation. Applejack walked behind the two running fillies who moved in to tackle Scootaloo. To their surprise, she flapped once, sending her high above as the two wingless fillies attempted a mid-air tackle. Applebloom skillfully vaulted on her forehooves, flipping forward and landing on all fours. Sweetie Belle on the other hand being less skilled in bucking maneuvers, landed flat on her face letting out a sharp yelp as her horn dug into the ground. Applebloom looked up where Scootaloo was hovering with little to no effort, holding in a laugh as Sweetie Belle audibly struggled to pull her head from the dirt. "Hey girls, whats up?" "You, obviously. When'd ya learn ta do that?" Scootaloo visibly shuddered. "Two months under Rainbow Dash's wing was enough. This is nothing." Sweetie Belle finally dislodged her head and used her magic to remove the mud from her horn and face. "Hey Scoots! How was trai-- wow!" Her eyes grew larger than normal when she saw her friend hovering seemingly on her back, examining her hooves. "Wow, Scoots, the last time we saw you, you couldn't get a bottle of glue from the top shelf!" Blushing, she quickly retorted, "Gee, Sweetie last time I saw you, you couldn't lift a textbook page with that magic and now you're moving whole globs of mud!" Sweetie bit her lower lip, unable to think of anything before Applebloom and Scootaloo burst into laughter. She shrugged and joined in, laughing until Scootaloo landed among them. The orange filly embraced them both in a long hug, and received Applebloom's trademark "Anaconda Special." The world began to swim when Scootaloo finally shrugged her off, as she was left gasping for air. "Geez, Applebloom! Calm yourself!" "Sorry, Scoots, I just ain't seen ya in forever! Your wings got bigger!" The mentioning of her wings made them cringe, as she remembered her state of exhaustion. She looked around at the devastation, wondering. "So girls..." she said as she looked at them intently, "what happened around here? Looks like a giant knife sliced the field like a cake or some--" Applebloom held up a hoof, silencing her. "Sweetie here might be able to explain better. I was underwater," she emphasized, eying Sweetie Belle with narrowed eyes. Sweetie Belle sighed, stood, and walked over to a massive fallen tree. She motioned Scootaloo over, poising her left foreleg under the branches as if to lift them. "Sorry Scoots..." she whimpered as she lifted the foliage to reveal their clubhouse; now in a heap of scrap metal and wooden splinters. Scootaloo gasped as she looked, fluttering over the fallen tree and over to the wreckage. Posters, trinkets, even her Rainbow Dash figurines were destroyed or irreparably damaged. She teared up as the memories they all shared at this once cherished place came back, and she lay in the rubble putting a hoof on a large piece of wood with a target painted on it. No great ideas now huh? She winced at the thought. "What happened?!" she growled. Her tone knocked Sweetie Belle off guard, and she lowered her ears in shock while Applebloom returned her outburst in kind. Always the strong one... "Whoa girl, cool it. It all happened a few hours ago, some rainbow colored wave or something came down from the sky and did all this," she said, sitting on her haunches in order to wave her forelegs in as big a circle as she could. Scootaloo's chest felt like it was going to explode as her face felt like ice and fire. She flopped to her haunches, her eyes wide and staring into the ground as if they were drills. Thi-this is my fault?! She looked up, once again eying the devastation. Dear Celestia, how? She wanted to punch herself in the face so, SO badly, but a part pf her said not to, not here at least. "Uh, you alright sugar cube?" Applejack asked, placing a hoof on Scootaloo's shoulder. She looked up, blinking her now dried out eyes and revealing a whitish orange face. Applejack backed off, seemingly surprised. Scootaloo quickly put on her best 'shake if off' face, but her friends weren't convinced. Well not Applebloom at least. "There somethin' ya wanna talk about Scoots?" Applebloom asked suspiciously... ----- "Ok Rainbow! Go for it!" Spitfire's words rang out like a pistol shot, sending a rush of energy from her core to power her failing wings. She dove immediately, watching as the plateau below became larger and larger... then she heard it. A massive crash of thunder deafened her and made her halt her dive. She looked around, dumbfounded at the interruption. An enormous flash of lightning just grazed the tip of her tail, and she flipped around to see a massive storm swirling and churning into itself. "Ok, who's in charge of the weather around here?!" She called A light grey pegasus with a blonde mane shrunk, and backed out of the crowd slowly. With a massive storm hovering over the Academy, any aerial demonstration was a bad idea, the risk of electric shock being too great. "Hey Spitfire, could you and Soarin clear that storm? I need my strength for this trick!" Spitfire and Soarin complied, flying over to the enormous mass of violet clouds. Murmuring from the ground increased as the storm only seemed to grow in size. Lightning turned darker seemingly with each strike, and the thunder began taking a strange sound only heard from the famous DJ-PON3's so called "speakers". "Spitfire! Try not to get too --" Soarin's words caught in his throat as a massive bolt of black lightning arced and hit Spitfire directly in the neck. close... She dropped like a rock, one wing closed and the other twitching, making her spiral into the lower clouds. She tumbled through them as they slowed her fall, and she finally met the solid clouds beneath. The impact came with a mind numbingly loud crunch and she cried out in pain. Soarin and Rainbow were at her side in seconds, only to find her left wing severely misshapen. She was breathing heavily, eyes wide and fur charred at the ends. Another massive bolt shattered a nearby cloud before jumping to another, blowing it apart. "Rainbow, we can't stay here, we gotta move her!" Rainbow nodded, placing her forehooves under Spitfire's shoulders, lifting her from the cloud. She screamed in pain, before her eyes rolled back and she went limp. "Forgive me Spitfire," Rainbow said, throwing her off the cloud. She fell like a rag doll, trailing blackened feathers and her goggles fell from her face. Swooping down, Rainbow caught Spitfire's tail with her teeth, before using her forelegs to get an effective cradle going. However, she had misjudged her weight and her wings began to fail from the new and unexpected strain. "Soarin! I need help!" Soarin was still watching the storm as it grew exponentially in size, and he saw something within begin pulsing with a light bright enough to pierce the violet clouds. Thunder rang out behind him as he dove to Rainbow's side, taking Spitfire's limp body in his hooves. The sky began to darken and the wind picked up as frightened trainees and even instructors began rushing into the Mess Hall. They had all seen what happened to their leader, and they knew this was no ordinary storm. The fact that it had appeared out of nowhere was another unsettling matter that only intensified the fear among the pegasi. Soarin brought Spitfire to the main office that was mere feet from the runway. He bucked the door open, and flew in setting her down on the small guest sofa. She was convulsing with lingering electricity and the ends of her primary feathers were blackened to a crisp. "Hang on Spitfire, I'll go get the trauma kit." ----- Rainbow landed on the tarmac folding her exhausted wings and looking up at the storm. It had grown dark, even though the sun was in plain view; it was nothing more than a big semi-bright ball now. She watched as the storm grew further still, the light within pulsating faster and faster. Arc after arc of unnatural black lightning flashed around, obliterating clouds and several rings in the obstacle course. One bolt managed to take out the Dizzitron's control panel, making the pony at the station fly backwards and hit several fleeing trainees. Chaos was the only way to describe what the "storm" was causing. Rainbow galloped into the office, seeing Spitfire seizing and twitching on the sofa. She ran to her side, moving in to touch her forehead. She quickly found out through a tiny bolt of black that touching her was a very bad idea. She jerked her injured hoof back, looking at the burnt fur surrounding it. "Ow," she said quietly. Spitfire opened bloodshot eyes and throatily laughed, "S-sor-r-ry..." Her breathing was growing more erratic by the second; the electricity still inflicting unseen damage. Soarin flew into the room, a large bag with a lightning bolt stitched into the side. "Alright Spitfire, this might sting a little..." He removed the plastic protector from the needles, and administered a brightly glowing blue serum into her thigh via a large glass and metal three needled gun. Hew jaw clamped down and she fought not to wet herself as the pain ripped through her pelvis and legs. Finally, after several agonizing minutes she began to relax, the electricity finally leaving her body in the form of extreme static cling on the couch. Her burnt feathers molted and patches of her burnt coat fell away. Her breathing steadily slowed, but was still deep and uneven. Her jaw slacked and her tongue lolled from her mouth. Rainbow felt safe to touch her and she was astonished by Spitfire's rapid pulse. She would still need proper medical attention before the day was up. Rainbow turned her attention to the storm raging outside. There was no rain, just a strange darkness along with a bright light pulsating within. A roar not unlike a mantecor's began filling the air as she stepped outside. She extended her wings, flapping and lifting into the air. She was careful not to get near the storm as it increased in ferocity and size. The roar grew louder as the white light in the middle suddenly and deliberately tripled in size, blowing all surrounding clouds away. Black lightning flashed everywhere around it, and it seemed to open in a wide tunnel-like fixture. She flew to where she could look into it, squinting from the intense light. "Soarin! Get out here!" He didn't have time to, as something appeared in the farthest reaches of the tunnel. It grew fast, the roar encompassing the tunnel creating a cannon of sound. She flattened her ears as the sound grew in intensity, and something was upon her. In the instant she knew it was too late to dodge, she felt herself being violently pulled to one direction. She fought the force, flailing her legs and pushing it away. It was then Soarin called her name; from right beside her. "Got ya!" To say Rainbow was shocked was an understatement. Soarin slowed to a hover as she quickly wriggled out of his grasp, giving him a shaky but warm smile. Without a word, she sniffed the air, grimacing and looking in the direction the massive object flew. Soarin broke from his daze and repeated the gesture with equal results. They both noticed that the storm had vanished without a trace, along with the roar it encompassed. "Go get Scoots. Make sure nothing happens to her," Rainbow commanded in a shaky voice. Soarin nodded, turning towards the direction of Sweet Apple Acres and let a sigh of disappointment be heard. Wow Soarin, thanks for saving my life and all, I'm sooo-- His mocking thoughts were interrupted by a hoof on his shoulder, pulling him around. Now face to face, Rainbow grabbed him in a tight hug, planting a rough kiss right on his muzzle. Both Rainbow and Soarin's cheeks could've made a red delicious jealous as they stared at each other, unsure of what to do. "Uh, so, I better go see what that thing is..." Rainbow stuttered. Soarin just hovered there, eyes wide. "So yea, go get Scoots for me huh?" "Yeah i'll uh..." He faltered his sentence, falling from Rainbow's grasp. He opened his wings just in time to shoot a few inches above the runway. He found a good tailwind, rocketing toward Sweet Apple Acres. Despite the brewing dilemma, his smile could have lit the way if it was dark out. ----- Allen regained consciousness as the jet leveled out and the auto pilot took over. Still groggy, he lifted his left sleeve and examined his watch. 17:39. He shook his head slightly, trying to get is vision back into focus. That was some maneuver... He examined the screen, finding nothing to be damaged despite the horrendous G force that had been applied earlier. Looking out from the canopy, the vector bar and heading followed his helmet, but for some reason was glitching. It kept spinning, displaying vector twenty seven when he looked South, but then again, he wasn't sure which direction was which anymore. He grasped the stick and throttle, the pulse in his hands through his gloves alerting the F-35's computer to relieve the autopilot. Well that's new. He lightly pulled the stick left and right, the F-35 responding smartly. Ailerons, check. He pulled down, and the F-35 smoothly transitioned from level flight into a comfortable one and a half G climb. He reversed the motion, negative Gs making him rise slightly from the seat. Elevators, check. His vision flooded with red as the blood rushed to his brain. He was never accustomed to negative Gs. His head stopped swimming as he leveled out and a very disturbing feature caught his eye. The altimeter read just under negative forty feet. He tapped the gauge, wondering if it was a mechanical glitch. No response. The altimeter hovered just under fifty now. Something prompted him to look outside where the open sky defied the altimeter's reading. Clouds were seemingly placed in a sort of pattern, and they actually looked solid. Curious, he banked into one and his left wingtip sliced it clean in half. However, the drag produced yawed his plane . "Whoa!" he yelled, slamming right rudder to compensate for the drag. The F-35 responded far better than he had hoped. The integrated thrust vectoring complied with the rudder, making it twice as effective as previous models. It caused him to careen into a right spin, throwing him to the left in the cockpit. Alarms rang, the helmet felt like it weighed fifty pounds, and he strained to keep his head upright. Through instinct, he hit left rudder and pushed right on the stick. The opposite air currents over the flight surfaces caused him to level out in the spin. His next step was to gently apply left rudder, while holding the stick straight in a death grip. The plane started to slow it's spin, and Allen aileron rolled into level flight. Panting, he fell limp into the seat. Good God... stay away from clouds... ----- Rainbow squinted as her speed reached supersonic levels. She scanned the sky, searching for any sign of the thing that seemingly materialized from nowhere. She knew it was dangerous and she found out the hard way. But sometimes that's the best way to find out... is it not? She looked, headbutting through clouds and tracing the smell it left behind. If anything, her sense of smell could easily follow the smelly trail of air it seemed to leave. What was more bothersome than it's noise was it's sheer size. From the brief encounter over the Academy, she could tell it was at least the size of the Pony Express' engine. Either the ponies back in Cloudsdale are working on some freaky new stuff, or something is very wrong here. Flapping harder, she broke mach two, following the ever stronger smelling trail into the blue. Then she saw it. Small at first, accompanied by it's trademark roar. She slowed, wondering if it could be talked to. The rushing wind gave way to an unnatural roar as she drew closer... Warning, unknown contact eight o'clock low. The warning from Betty quickly brought his focus to attention as a small dot appeared on the radar. He looked outside, straining to look back and as far left as possible. The HMD caught something unseen to him in a small green square, displaying speed, altitude and three hyphens where the IF signature would normally be. The speed is what really caught his eye, fluctuating rapidly from "657", "856", and even rising as high as "1350". The speed was measured in knots, so the object was really going- Caution, pull up. Allen's head snapped forward to come face to face with a mountain nearly a mile ahead. His arm snapped back, taking the control stick with it and forcing the F-35E into a very heavy climb. "C'mon you bastard! Climb!" The F-35E creaked as the Gs mounted and slowly began gaining altitude. Allen's G suit began squeezing his legs like an Anaconda in order to keep him from blacking out. The mountain began to lower into the control panel as his speed dropped and the wings became more effective. Slamming the throttle forward and lighting the afterburner, he watched through hazy vision as the altimeter in the HMD began sharply rising from "-50" to upwards of "4170". Out of danger, he backed the throttle off and rolled into level flight, looking at the mountain behind him. "Ok," he said through clenched teeth, "where's that plane..." He began searching the sky again, the HMD failing to find the mystery plane. "Betty, run a radar scan for proximity. If there's anything within five hundred miles of my nose I wanna know about it. Airports, cities, everything short of the damn International Space Station." Confirmed X-ray One-One. The screen lit up with a large circle with a tiny F-35 shape in the middle. Scanning lines protruded from its nose, imitating what was happening. To the south, a large blip next to a small line indicated a landing strip, but the information box beside it was blank. To his right, a much larger cluster of blips appeared indicating a small city or town, but its information box was also blank. Sir, it appears that the geology in the area is completely different from any known satellite database. I cannot seem to locate any friendly air bases or occupied radio frequency. Allen's face began to turn white as he remembered the 'storm'. It appears that whatever that storm was, it has taken us somewhere... else. Betty's statement, though artificial, made him slightly more confident now that he had some form of outside communication from his own fried brain. He remembered the small airport that had appeared on the screen, and he slid the F-35E into a comfortable wide two G turn. ----- Rainbow watched from atop the same mountain the black dot had nearly made it's acquaintance with. The smell was almost overpowering, and a wide path was melted in the snow where it passed. A thin transparent brown line arced through the sky, seemingly coming from the dot. The familiar roar held steadily in volume, then began to grow louder. Her wings flared, seeing it heading back toward her and possibly the Academy. The dot grew... and grew... and she took off. Alert, AESA tracking faint signature at twelve o'clock low. Sure enough, a small blip appeared on the radar screen only eight miles ahead. "Betty, why couldn't the radar detect it sooner? For all I know it could be a MI--" The dot began moving, and the HMD finally locked a green square around it. Again, the data box displayed altitude and speed, but the IF signature was nothing but hyphens. "Betty, can you get an ID on that thing?" There was a short silence as the computer began humming, scanning the object from afar and running the results through every database in the F-35E's arsenal. Negative. Attempts at establishing radio contact have also failed. However, thermal scan is detecting a very distinct figure. It is not mechanical, however it does posses distinct characteristics of the mythical pegasus. I have gone through all files to confirm this. Allen laughed inwardly, watching as the distance between himself and the mystery plane lessened. Yeah right, a pegasus? C'mon Betty, I thought they made you "smart"... At his current speed, he would meet the target in less than twenty seconds. "Alright Betty, arm and deploy AIM-9s." He heard a small humming as the weapon bay doors opened, and felt the drag of two missiles hanging from the extended pylons. AIM-9X Sidewinders armed and deployed The HMD's targeting system switched on, allowing the AIM-9's seeker head to follow Allen's eye movements. He stared straight at the oncoming threat but the missile couldn't seem to get a proper lock. Looks like I gotta do this old school, he thought, bracing his index finger on the dual Gatling triggers. Rainbow's ears twitched as the roar became ever louder. She could now make out it's wings and the bright glint of glass from the afternoon sun. The roar was almost deafening now, and both flyers were now on a head-on collision course. Warning, collision immenen-- All Allen needed was the series of rapid beeps from the helmet to realize the threat. He slammed the stick left, pulling back hard as the dot on the radar expanded; it's close distance compensating for it's small size. "Whoa!" Rainbow yelled, unable to hear herself over the roar of the turbofan. She closed her wings from panic, dropping just under and to the right of the strange object's left wingtip as the two met. Time seemed to slow as she looked left, seeing a strange white blur against the charcoal grey. She opened her wings again, pulling up straight into the searing hot air behind the object. engulfing her right flank and leg. She cried out, feeling the fine hairs of her coat curl and watching it darken as she pulled up sloppily. Visible smoke was emitting from her coat and she painfully patted it down from combustion. She didn't have time to think about her injury as the rouge object was now hurtling toward the Academy. With a low grunt of pain and anger, she flapped hard, rocketing after the threat. "Betty, I need you to find the airbase that appeared earlier," he instructed, his head on a swivel in search for the strange rainbow colored object that nearly kissed his nose. Again the low humming sound of the computer working filled the cockpit as the AESA searched. Confirmed location, continue on current vector. Drop altitude to negative two hundred fifty feet. The strip should come within visual range in-- Betty paused, the humming of the computer becoming higher pitched and pulsating-- Warning, aft radar tracking contact nine miles out and closing fast. Allen's eyes widened for a moment. "Does it have a missile lock?" He asked quickly, straining to took behind him and spot the threat. Negative. It appears to have no radar signature nor a radar of its own. Betty's claim startled him for a moment before he finally pulled another hard left turn to get a view. As he did, a tiny black dot was made visible and the HMD zoomed in. What he saw was simple and pixelated: wings, fuselage, and... "Wha--" The image focused and revealed a creature unlike any he had ever seen. His eyes widened to the size of golf balls as he stared, unaware of his approaching of the airstrip. Sir, landing pattern confirmed, shall I-- "Hold it Betty, abort the landing. That thing wants to dance." But sir, I don't think your fuel is going to be enou-- "You're right, you don't think. That's my job." He grasped the stick and throttle, pushing the throttle all the way forward and igniting the afterburner. Rainbow watched as a cone of fire slowly protruded from behind the object, and it seemed to speed up. During her mad dash, she began thinking how to detour that thing from the Academy. It was huge, and fast. She knew from experience that big and fast usually meant very bad crash and very big boom. She had to stop it from reaching the Academy. Somehow. She dove deep into thought. Okay, I know that thing is way too big to handle by hoof... She recalled the Sonic Rainboom earlier... That's it! Hope you know how to bob and weave... She flapped harder, ignoring the pain from her wings and flank as she more than tripled her speed. Allen raised an eyebrow as the creature's speed suddenly increased, the small number in the box beside it increasing so fast he couldn't see individual numbers anymore. The speed became hyphens and Allen's eyes flicked back to the object that was now nothing but a wall of color. "Whoa!" He slammed the stick right, pulling back and releasing flares out of instinct. Rainbow watched as the little tidbits of light trailed from the object and accelerated further. She had calculated perfectly, the second Rainboom of the day reaching out toward the monstrosity. She hovered, panting and watching the ring of energy as it bore down on her target. Warning, massive electromagnetic surge detected, evade. "Evade, no shit!" he yelled, pulling more Gs than ever before trying to get out from the wave's path. He flipped the switch to enable the scramjet, and after some loud clicking and humming, the F-35 was now a working rocket. This is gonna suck, he thought, remembering the training. The F-35 lurched forward, gaining massive amounts of speed and G force as it rocketed through the sky. He yelled with all his might, fighting to keep his head upright as the Gs mounted. Stay.. conscious... The G force from accelerating past mach four was almost more than he could bear. Luckily, the energy wave behind him began to slow and all at once dissipated. He puled back the throttle, allowing the engine to cool and revert back to normal operating status. Warning, fuel level critical. Activating fuel conservation procedures and initiating landing. He turned his head to see something hovering a few miles back, and the HMD again zoomed in on an angry looking blue pegasus. Hah, suck it. He brought his attention back forward to come eye-level with the plateau, and many surrounding buildings. Betty had already judged the runway too short, and initiated a vertical landing. Allen examined the glass display. "Crosswind, fifteen knots. Fuel, only a few hundred pounds left. Tower? None. Perfect place for a landing Betty!" He said with bitter sarcasm. It's either this or a hole in the ground, sir. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't. He knew she was right. "Touche." Damn, Lockheed really made you more human than I thought, he said inwardly, laughing. He grasped the stick and throttle, gaining control back from Betty and nervously watching as the fuel gauge decreased ever more toward zero. He backed the throttle a little too fast, making the F-35E begin a fast descent to a painful and more than likely damaging landing. He added power, compensating. The wind outside made the F-35E shake and wobble as it descended, wearing on Allen's nerves even further. Rainbow watched the object as she neared the plateau and cautiously approached it from the rear. It had changed in appearance looking much less like an arrow, and now like a giant mutated cart. One thing that hadn't changed however was the noise. Her ears flattened as she got closer, ready to make a break if it made any sudden movements. She looked to the office where Soarin was most likely hiding with Spitfire. She had to make it there. Alert, proximity scan detecting contact of similar dimensions as the one previously encountered. It appears it followed us sir. "What vector?" He asked quickly. South of current. He'd had enough. Almost no fuel, a hostile EMP blasting animal on his six, no radio contact and finally no GPS coordinates. He had to land and find out what the hell was going on but before that, he had to take care of this nuisance on his tail. He punched right rudder making the F-35E spin in a slow circle, his finger poised over the twin M61A4s' triggers. Now facing it, his HMD locked a spinning target indicator around the animal approaching and began beeping rapidly. Target locked. Eat this. His index finger closed around the triggers. > One Small Step... > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Five One Small Step... Failure: a word rarely associated with the F-35E and the pilots that flew them. As soon as Allen pulled the triggers the engine faltered from lack of fuel with the error occurring in the forward lift fan. The result was the nose dipping, making the stream of bullets drop below their intended target. Out of instinct, Allen pulled back on the stick and released the triggers to regain frontal control. He was inching ever closer to the ground, the pegasus closing in nearly fifty feet away. His finger closed on the left trigger, sending a line of tracers toward the ground in front of it in an attempt to scare it away. The bullets struck just in front of the cyan flyer, sending columns of dirt into the air. Dash weaved around the columns of dirt and debris, forcing her to overshoot her intended target. She pulled up, rocketing into supersonic flight. Allen watched with a sigh of relief as his tormentor finally broke away and headed into the clouds. Warning. One hundred pounds of fuel remaining. Estimated operational vertical flight time is ten seconds. A timer manifested on the screen, ticking down from ten... nine... eight... Allen had already righted the plane and it was now in a nice hover fifty feet above edge of the runway and obstacle course. His rear left tire would plant in the grass, while his front and rear right would be on the tarmac. It'll have to do. He pulled the throttle back, making the timer that had taken most of the screen's space slow in its descent... nine... eight... eight... seven... seven... Before he knew it, he felt the familiar bump of the tires on solid ground. The dirt was more compact than expected, barely sinking under the immense thirty five thousand pound load. Allen jerked the throttle backward while simultaneously tapping the screen and flipping switches. The engine powered down; the droning of the turbofan deceasing in frequency as it slowed. Commencing fuel consuming systems shutdown. Extreme fuel shortage. Computer standby mode engaged. When the engine could be heard no more Allen reached for the canopy lever, only to be stopped by a loud clanking sound just to the rear and above him. The unmistakeable feeling of eyes bore into him as he sat there, frozen. ----- Rainbow Dash had always been one for daring feats. From fifty loops in a row to shattering the fabric of light itself with nothing but her speed. The word 'insanity' to her was like 'ungodly' to her peers. In fact, in Rainbow's book Insanity was the definition of 'fun'. This among other reasons was why she was looked up to by so many thrill seeking fillies and colts of all ages, and even older stallions and mares. The twin cannons had made a sound so loud that every pony in the Mess had lowered their ears and used their goggles as improvised earmuffs. They were pushing and fighting for the window that, with its heavy tint, could be used to observe outside while remaining hidden. "Sir, that's Rainbow Dash on that thing!" a younger recruit yelled. Gasps of shock and panic were heard throughout the Hall as trainee and instructor alike huddled by the window, looking a the scene unfolding outside. Rainbow had landed on all fours on the strange object's back, seemingly frozen with fear. I can't believe I landed on this thing... Rainbow thought as her eyes squeezed shut and she waited for something horrific to happen. After five seconds of freeze frame, Rainbow couldn't take the suspense anymore and started walking to what she presumed to be the front. The light of Celestia's sun was glinting off of something up there, shining directly into her eyes. She adjusted her head multiple times trying to get a viable viewing angle of what it was reflecting light so well. Allen was still frozen. Something was walking on top of his helpless aircraft; straight toward the cockpit. He quickly thought of a plan to get a look at what was there. From the sound, it seemed like whatever was there was still toward the rear, and that left the center aligned camera in perfect position to get a shot. He opened the program for optical surveillance and tapped the mini F-35 on the screen on it's back. Another window opened with a short loading screen... Rainbow never thought her heart could beat as fast as it was now. Each step let out a loud metallic clang, no doubtingly alerting whatever this thing was to her presence. She moved slowly, using her outstretched wings as balance on the narrow hump-like structure. Another thing that bothered her was the heat it gave off; so much she could feel it through her hooves. Suddenly, right in front of her, something opened on the surface. She jumped back with a yelp, ready to buck anything else that moved. Strangely though, nothing else seemed to happen. She regained her composure, slowly moving in to investigate this new tiny appendage. Confirmed. Allen now knew Betty was right. As strange as its rainbow colored mane, its cerulean coat, and big bright wine colored eyes were, he knew one fact: pegasi were real. It closed in on the camera, presumably unaware it was being watched. "Betty, run a biometric scan of the animal on the screen," he whispered. Scanning. Light green grid lines formed around segments of the pegasus' visible body, analyzing it from the cellular level. Information began filling the screen and HMD as Betty completed the scan, highlighting important pieces of info in bright green before vocally describing it. Subject is female, age unknown. Muscular and Skeletal systems seem combined to form a very complex and balanced avian Equus crossbreed. According to human mythology-- "Yea yea I get it. We need to get it off of the hull so I can get out without it knowing." Roger. Readying defensive countermeasures for effective distraction. Awaiting confirmation to launch. Allen put two fingers on the screen, expanding them causing the camera to zoom. Outside, Rainbow was mere centimeters from the camera when it suddenly moved forward inside. The movement made Rainbow's head shoot up and her left forehoof slam the camera down as she lightly jumped away. She landed on the thrust nozzle and very edge of the fuselage, breathing like a mad pony. Shit Allen thought as the screen went to nothing but static. He closed the window, flicking it over to the far right of the screen. He took advantage of the pegasus' distance to begin unstrapping from the ejection seat and getting his gear in order. He reached into the side of his ejection seat and grasped his .45 Taurus ACP, placing it in the holster mounted on his right leg. He flipped a switch allowing the G suit to deflate while simultaneously disconnecting the air hose that supplied it. He unfastened the belts that held his shoulders to the seat, then finally unbuckled the strap that restrained his waist and legs. He removed his helmet and mask, setting it on the control panel. "Alright Betty," he whispered, removing the magazine of the pistol to confirm it was full, "on my go." Standing by. He was tensed for a spring, eying a rather large circular contraption beside the runway. He figured if he could get to that, he could use it for cover. He would then stow away in one of the buildings next to the runway to await further ideas. "Deploy flares now!" Rainbow Dash was just beginning to walk forward again as a torrent of loud pops came from underneath her hooves. The sound was accompanied by blinding lights and a screen of smoke. At the same time, she caught a fleeting glimpse of something moving toward the front, apparently opening. Coughing and spitting from the phosphorus fumes, Rainbow shot into the sky once more, this time not intending to find out what was going to happen next. From the Mess Hall, every pegasus watching shielded their eyes from the intense light while one closed the curtains. Proximity scan detects contact directly above, ascending rapidly. "Hah! It worked Betty! Its buggin' out!" Allen yelled over the loud hissing of the flares still burning on the tarmac. "See ya later, sorry about the Valet parking!" Oh hah, hah. Allen jumped from the cockpit, landing on the tarmac and rolling as best he could to absorb the lengthy fall. Holding his breath he shot straight toward the machine, the bulky G suit rustling and clanking the whole way. He finally reached his destination, clicking a button on his belt to close the canopy. Facing back to back against the machine, he began stripping from the suit. First, the outer layers including the inflation suit, which was a simple unzip all the way from collarbone to groin. A simpler design than previous models, this G suit was far more streamlined and effective allowing for quick and easy removal and high effectiveness during extreme maneuvers. He unfastened the pistol's holster from his right leg, setting it aside as he removed the flight suit. A black A-shirt, black BDU cargo pants, boots, and his dog tags were the only articles of clothing that remained on his person; along with the gun now strapped firmly to his right thigh. ----- The lump in Scootaloo's throat felt like she was trying to swallow an apple whole as she tried to think of the words to say. The punishment and possible resentment of her friends was enough to nearly push her mind over the edge. She could feel it; all eyes upon her as she sat there desperately trying to hold back tears. "I... I don't know..." She stammered, now obvious to everyone there that something was very wrong. She had to tell them. Her conscious was about to be overwhelmed with guilt and the only to clear it was by telling the truth. "Rainbow Dash and I were racing--" "Hold it," Applebloom interrupted, raising a hoof, "you raced Rainbow Dash? You know how competitive she can be!" Scootaloo cringed at her words, "I know, I know, just hear me out. We were racing because I wanted to show her that her training wasn't for nothing. I thought she doubted me, even though I never showed it." Sweetie was still eying the devastation while Applebloom just stood there with her expression unchanged. "If ya know somethin' about what happened to the orchard, spit it out," she said flatly. Scootaloo made an audible gulp and looked down again. "I did a Sonic Rainboom while in level flight." She never knew jaws could drop so far. ----- Rainbow was sitting on a small cloud far above the impending disaster below. She watched, clearly seeing what was taking place. Another creature had climbed from the object, ran across the tarmac and hid behind the Dizzitron. Now she was more confused than frightened. Something was flying that thing? She barked at the thought. "Something so small controlling something so big? Yea right," she laughed Celestia controls the sun right? She put a hoof to her temple, rubbing in circles. "Shut it." She hated when her brain was right, but It did have a point. Surely talking to it wouldn't hurt... Right? She lifted off the cloud, the creature still in sight. She gradually sped up angling down, aiming to land on top of the Dizzitron. Allen heard the beating of wings as he looked up. The pegasus was streaming in, opening its wings wide to slow its descent and landed on top of the machine. Immediately he raised his pistol, clicking the safety to the OFF position. the pegasus landed firmly on the top of the Dizzitron with wings spread wide for balance. It looked down at the strange creature with a mixture of curiosity and anger. "Alright, start talkin'!" Rainbow commanded. ----- "You did WHAT now?" Applejack and Applebloom asked in unison. Scootaloo looked up with tears in her eyes, "I'm so sorry, I didn't know this would happen!" Both sisters looked at each other, and back to the cowering orange filly. "C'mon now Sugar cube," Applejack started. "What you did, It... It must've been amazing! I'm actually quite proud of ya." Scootaloo wiped her eyes with a hoof, "Really? What about the orchard? The clubhouse? The--" "Aww don't worry, we can have this all fixed up in a week's time," Applebloom chimed. "But I still can't believe you did a Sonic Rainboom! What was it like?" Scootaloo managed to smile for a fleeting moment before looking up and closing her eyes, "windy." Applebloom laughed while Sweetie's face went blank. "No kidding," Sweetie said, rubbing her still injured back. The beating of wings overhead drew all attention upward, where a light blue pegasus was coming in for a landing. Scootaloo looked down, trying to erase any sign of her earlier crying. "Uh hey, Soarin!" She mused, trying to seem less emotional than she really was at that point. "Hey Scoots, there's a problem up at the Academy. Rainbow Dash want's you there," He said. His voice lacked any notion of his usual warmness. Scootaloo nodded and extended her wings, checking them while drying her tears quickly. Soarin looked around while Scootaloo gathered her composure. "What happened here? Did the Weather Team lose control of another tornado?" Soarin exhaled. Applebloom stifled a laugh while Applejack simply shook her head and smiled. "Nope," Big Mac said. ----- Allen was unsure of what to do. He could pull the trigger and plant a .45 round in this thing's forehead and be done, or just... talk. Again Betty was right. It definitely sounded female even if it had some rasp to it. Another thing that startled him was that she was speaking English. "What? You thought that little light show would scare me off? Good luck buddy!" Rainbow laughed. Allen gulped, finger tightening around the sensitive trigger. He aimed for a scare; Just beneath the pegasus' hooves. "I bet this will!" He fired, the bullet blowing a hole right next to where Rainbow was perched with a deafening ping! "Whoa!" She yelled, taking off and hovering. She looked to the smoldering hole in the Dizzitron's upper frame, then to the creature standing below. She had to admit, if whatever he did that to the Dizzitron had hit her, she would surely have been killed. "HEY!" She roared. "You want my hoof in your face?! Allen chuckled at her high-pitched threat, "Unless you want a hole like that in your head I'd suggest you think before you act," he retorted. In that instant, Allen knew she didn't have the slightest clue as to what a gun was, or what it could do in the hands of a prominent user. The pegasus' face suddenly contorted in pain and sharp gasp could be heard as the animal suddenly fell. Allen positioned his back against the machine, sliding down and sitting in the soft grass. Great, if it didn't want to kill me earlier I'll bet it does now... The sound of shuffling from the other side gave way to silence as Allen held the gun firmly. He had wasted a precious bullet trying to show off. Great. He weighed the options. He had virtually no fuel, fourteen bullets left and a possible death awaiting. "So let's talk," Allen said, voice a little shaky. His response took Rainbow a little by surprise. The creature now wanted to 'talk' after what just happened? "You first," Rainbow replied. Her own reply made her blush a little for no apparent reason; probably from embarrassment. She had nothing else to say. She waited, letting her now completely cramped wings fall limp beside her. Each attempt to move them brought a surge of great discomfort followed by a low grunt. It was all she could do to lift them back to their folded positions at her sides. Allen waited, back firmly against the machine with the pistol gripped in both hands pointing up. "You got a name?" Allen finally asked, making the pegasus jump a little. "Rainbow Dash." She replied flatly. Allen thought for a moment, trying not to laugh. "Seems appropriate, but no really. What's your name?" He scoffed. A short silence followed by what seemed like an annoyed huff made Allen quake a bit. Don't piss it off dude... He thought to himself. "Rainbow Dash huh? What happened? Get in a fight with a watercolor set?" Allen asked cheekily. He was trying to lighten the mood a bit, even though he had no idea who or what he was talking to. All he could do was find a way to keep this thing from attacking. From what he just said, that might be a possibility. He silently cursed himself. "Whad'ya mean?" Rainbow asked, an offended tone escaping between her words. Allen opened his mouth to speak before finally thinking on his next words. "Nothing," he said. Rainbow shrugged a little before looking to the massive machine parked on the runway. She was in awe as it stood there on three legs, unmoving and quiet. It was sleek, shiny and most of all: downright intimidating. She looked up from the machine to the west, squinting from the setting sun. "What's taking Soarin and Scoots so long..." She whispered "You say something?" Allen asked suspiciously. He was on his feet now, looking for a means of escape. "And if I did?" Rainbow asked, the offensive tone coming back. Allen said nothing, his mind too preoccupied with sneaking away. Scootaloo led Soarin in a mad dash toward the Academy. She had only been there once, but her sense of direction had far tuned since then. She weighed the possibilities, shuddering with every one. Could it be King Sombra? Discord becoming evil again? What about those "Diamond Dogs" or whatever Rarity called them...? The list could go on, but why was it when something bad happened Rainbow Dash or her friends was ALWAYS the centerpiece? Her thoughts gave way to the plateau coming into view as she burst through a cloud bank head first. Uh oh... She could see thick white smoke billowing up from the other side of the tall buildings, and she tripled her speed. A very thin and very visible Mach cone appeared three times then fading before a massive blasting sound. Allen nearly jumped out of his skin as a massive boom rocked the area. No more than a second later, something landed right in front of him with a loud clop followed by a gust of air that nearly blew him from his feet. He staggered, and in an instant he felt something meet his chest with crushing force. He reeled back, barely holding the pistol by the trigger guard. He used his momentum to spin and counteract the backwards fall. He skillfully flipped the gun, having it land in his hand by the grip with finger on the trigger. Before he could fire however, the thing that had assaulted him was gone. From nowhere, another orange blur made contact, this time with his stomach nearly making him retch. He staggered, falling to his knees and dropping the gun. He held his stomach with one hand while bracing his upper body with his other on the ground. He couldn't look up, as something cracked over the back of his head, making him fall face first to the ground. A noise that could only be described as tinnitus rang in his ears and spots swam in his view as the object that hit him held his head firmly into the grass. Rainbow Dash was again shocked beyond belief as her student made this creature her plaything. She hadn't noticed Soarin had landed beside her. "Had enough?" Another feminine voice seethed. She bent her head down to the immobilized creature beneath her hoof, and blew it's hair from it's face. "Ever heard of breath mints?" It complained. Immediately her hoof was thrown off the creature's head and she lost her stance. Allen was up on his feet ignoring the pain from his head and stomach. In a flurry of coordinated motion, he spun on his hands and flung his legs into his attacker's. Time seemed to slow as he let a sly grin spread across his face while watching his foe tumble onto it's side. It hit the ground hard, followed by a loud exhale. He spun to his feet, his back again toward the Dizzitron. It was then he finally got a good glimpse at his attacker. Another pegasus with an orange coat, purple mane and tail. It, or 'she' rather, regained her composure, using her wing to push from the ground creating a very smooth barrel roll to a standing position. Her her dull violet eyes bored into Allen with the intent of putting him down. "I'm sick of you evil things constantly terrorizing my friends! I won't let you hurt my sister!" She charged, covering the ten feet between her and Allen in less than a second. However, Allen had already anticipated this move; nonchalantly stepping aside. Scootaloo didn't have time to think before ramming her forehead into the Dizzitron with an echoing high-pitched ding! The Dizzitron shuddered so hard under the intense impact that bits of dust from the top rained down. Soarin took a step toward the creature with a scowl as Scootaloo's head simply slid down the metal, leaving a thin trail of blood the entire way down. Rainbow extended her wing with a muffled grunt to stop him. "I got this, Scoots'll be fine. She's taken worse," she assured him. Rainbow calmly walked around the Dizzitron, more focused on her student's opponent than Scootaloo herself. The creature turned to face her, small metal plates clinking around it's neck. It raised it's forelegs up, clenching the small appendages into the wide base. Allen raised his fists, certain of another fight. The wine-colored eyes of the larger pegasus bore into him, almost reading his essence. He stared back with his own eyes wide, desperately thinking of a way out of this. In his line of sight something was flashing in the grass, and his eyes flicked toward it. "Gotcha," Rainbow whispered as she jumped at her adversary. Oops, Allen thought as he saw the incoming threat in his peripheral vision. He immediately thought of a plan, letting his legs go limp and falling to his back. The soft grass cushioned his back while he extended a leg straight out. It connected with the pegasus' belly and Allen used her momentum to his advantage, vaulting her head over hooves to her back on the tarmac. She was a little heavier than the orange one but this served in Allen's favor. Rainbow was again amazed at this bi pedal's maneuverability and strength. She gasped to breathe as the impact forced the air from her lungs in the form of a sharp exhale. Before she could look Allen was again up on his feet; his fighting stance relaxed a bit. "You done yet?!" He shouted to her. Rainbow simply blew her mane from her face while looking upside down at him. She tried attempting Scootaloo's maneuver, positioning her left wing for an upward vault. This attempt she immediately regretted, as her wing instantly cramped and she fell back to her side. "Crap..." She mumbled. Allen laughed at the pitiful sight, watching as the pegasus finally stumbled to all fours. "Alright Mr. whatever you are, I'm done playing around. I know what happened to Scoots was her ow--" "Who?" Allen interrupted. He suddenly had an epiphany, looking back to the round machine. On the other side, a small groan muffled through the metal. "Oh..." He chirped. He turned back around to come face to face with the rainbow-maned pegasus, her large eyes in a very mean looking scowl. He gasped, jumping back. "I suggest you start explaining before I punch your teeth down your throat." Trainee and Instructor alike were still huddled by the window, watching as the strange creature held his own against Cloudsdale's greatest flier. Her student had made her acquaintance with the Dizzitron's backside, rendering her unconscious and out of view. No one there knew what actually happened to her. "Rumble!" An instructor called. A young grey pegasus wriggled through the mass of trainees to meet the instructor's summons. "Y-yes sir?" He stammered, raising a foreleg in salute. "Go out there and back Dash up. Looks like she's trying to get some info from our..." He looked outside again, raising an eyebrow. "Guest." Rumble bit his tongue not knowing where to start before finally taking off, heading for the door. Allen's eyes were unlike any Rainbow Dash had ever seen. As she looked, her anger slowly but surely melted away, leaving herself and the creature dumfounded and frozen. Rainbow backed up a bit, still staring into the yellow-green gems before her. "What?" Rainbow said stupidly Allen was taken completely aback by the strange question, and simply shrugged. He still knew he needed to escape, and the nearest building was less than twenty yards away. As if on cue, a loud moan echoed through the Dizzitron's metal, and shuffling could be heard as the orange pegasus finally found her way back to reality. This was Allen's chance to escape. He took off like a bullet, shoving Rainbow aside and running as fast as he could toward the nearest building. He reached the door and not waiting to pause to open it, simply spun and connected his foot to the center. The door let out a shrieking crack as it flew from its hinges. Rumble had no time to think before it crashed into his muzzle sending him back flipping to the instructor's hooves. Rainbow immediately spun around, running toward the now doorless Mess Hall. The creature's back was to her, and this was the perfect time to end this little "scene". She opened her wings for the last time that day, flapping once, hard and accurate. She was now airborne, extending her hind legs in front of her, acting like a battering ram. Allen's back was the target. He eyed several other dark figures by the window, "alright! What the HELL is going--" Allen's sentence was cut short as a loud crack filled the room. His eyes glazed, and he fell to the floor, arms above his head. Rainbow Dash was standing in the doorway, wings limp beside her. Instructors and trainees were gasping and whispering. One even fainted. "Alright," Rainbow panted, "who's gonna help me move this thing?" > Interlude: Waking up > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I walked through the corridor that lead to my bed chambers, eyes heavy with sleep. My ears splayed back, hearing nothing but the soft clop of my hooves on the marble floor. The day court had gone by far slower than normal, leaving me exhausted and rather cranky. I had learned to control my temper over the years I have ruled this land, but Blueblood's constant complaining could be very taxing on the nerves. As I placed my hoof on my door to open it, a searing pain erupted from within my forehead, branching into my horn. My golden magic sparked and flickered, sending even more bouts of pain down the length of my horn. The sudden disorientation caused me to kneel, using my wing to keep myself from falling completely. With the world spinning and the horrid feeling still present in my head, I attempted to stand, succeeding only at intensifying the intense migraine. My horn sent spark after spark of magic, clashing with the walls and exploding with sharp cracks. Behind me, I could hear the corridor's double doors bursting open as my younger sister galloped toward me. I looked back to , see her horn was also alight with undoubtedly painful magical surges. "My sister," she said, her voice shaky and strenuous. "Do you feel it as well?" She knelt beside me, but I was unsure if it was to help or if it was from the disorientation. Seeing her eyes clamped shut as her own magic flailed made me consider the latter. "Yes, I feel it rather well" I answered. There was a bit more ice behind my words than I had meant, but my pain had severely soured my already volatile mood. Somepony had used a massive amount of magic, enough to level a city if they wanted. My mind reeled at this realization, pondering each and every scenario that could be brought upon by the magical disturbance. Thankfully, I felt nothing more after a minute or so. Luna's eyes were closed, her horn enveloped in a transparent glow barely visible to my eyes. She was murmuring something, as though she was questioning what she was doing. The fact that she was able to use her magic unhindered after what had just happened was enough to impress me thoroughly as I watched. Her eyes moved under their lids as the magic intensified, allowing me to feel what she was doing. As I watched, a mix of pain and the all too familiar signature of a tracing spell graced my horn. Not wanting to break her undoubtedly frail concentration, I pushed the doors to my chambers open, drawing a squeak from the hinges. I looked back, seeing one of Luna's eyes open and on me, her brow furrowed. "My apologies, Luna." "Nay sister. I have found the source of the disturbance." Disturbance? Understatement of the decade my dear. I thought, smirking as I realized it was literal. My mood fell back into disarray as my sister's look soured. "Luna.. What is it?" I asked, fear lining my voice My sister, goddess of the night and keeper of the dream realm, was almost impervious to fear. At least when I was around. However, the look in her eyes as she stared at me sent shivers down my spine. Shivers I hadn't felt since staring down Nightmare Moon so many years ago. Something was obviously very wrong. "Something is here, sister. Something we have never seen before." She was reverting to using the "Royal We". Something was definitely not right. "Here?! In the castle?!" I asked, tensing for a fight. "Nay, it is near Cloudsdale, and moving very quickly." My magic was currently useless, so Luna's reluctance to say what exactly she was seeing began to annoy me. "Sister," I began, trying to keep my voice warm. "What are you seeing?" Luna shook her head slightly as her eyes closed. "We do not know." ---√\ Four hours later I woke up with a sharp inhale and a jolt, my eyes seeing nothing but black. I could tell however, that I was laying in an enclosed room. The walls seemed to close in on me from the dark, making me feel very uneasy. That or the fact my back felt like it was snapped in two. I grimaced, feeling intense pressure on my upper back as I laid there, disoriented. I shifted a little, feeling my cargo pants rustling against my legs. My black A-shirt could be felt as I tried to move my arms to a position to sit up. I was stopped however, by something large and soft. I was laying on a small couch. "After a thorough examination, I've come to the conclusion that two of it's upper vertebrae are dislocated and more than likely fractured." I froze, my ears now on full alert and straining to hear the muffled voice. Whoever it was had used English, so that put my mind at ease for the moment. "The creature is bound by the upper appendages, and shouldn't pose a threat if it wakes up..." Creature? Bound? Oh HELL NO! Rolling slightly to avoid putting pressure on my back, I looked into the inky black room. The outline of a window appeared as my eyes began to adjust. Not very smart to keep me in a room where I can easily get out.. I realized however, that I had spoken too soon. As I tried to move my arms, I could feel tendrils of rope binding my upper arms tightly against the wrists. Only one thought crossed my mind at this point. Fuck. I rolled back into my previous position, sinking into the dent I had made in the cushion. Delving into my training of how to get out of such binds, I remembered the small knife concealed in my boot. If I could reach it, I could cut the ropes and be free. But where would you go? A voice in my head asked. I looked around the dark room blindly before realizing I had asked myself the question. Sighing, I attempted to sit up - Only to be brought back down by a loud pop and a yelp of pain. I could hear, through the blood roaring in my ears, something falling outside my door. Several hushed voices were talking, too muffled to be decipherable. Deciding not to wait for what was in store, I attempted to roll over again, this time succeeding on making it onto my belly just centimeters from the edge of the couch. Since my lower legs were hanging off the other end, I could keep myself balanced enough to descend to the floor without much noise. Unfortunately, the pain intensified as I put my arms on the carpeted floor, applying pressure on my upper back to keep myself upright. I resisted the urge to cry out, using my legs to fall gently onto the floor. “Is it awake?!” “What’re we gonna do?!” I tried my best to ignore the voices coming from outside the room, focusing instead on reaching the knife in my boot. In order to reach it, I was forced to try and sit up while bringing my knees to my chest. The strain on my back was causing me horrific pain as several audible cracks graced my ears. Unable to keep my voice in check, I grunted a guttural cry as I was finally able to reach the knife. To my horror, the knife was gone. I slumped back, my booted feet landing hard on the carpet. This drew another shuffle from outside, and I heard the door's knob begin to squeak and jiggle. I did my best to sit up, wincing as my back cried in protest. Managing to do so with the help of my elbows, I stared at the door as it cracked open slightly. My heart sped up as the door inched open ever farther, a large crimson eye filling the crack near the upper middle. I froze, hoping it wouldn't see me in the darkness. Not a sound, not a breath, not even a twitch could be heard, felt, or given by my body. I was essentially a statue. Paint me gray and I could've passed for the Thinking Man. The eye looked straight into mine, large and unblinking. I didn't move still, thoughts running through my mind at a rate of a million a second. I could see the window in my peripheral, and no other option of escape. However, with my back in such condition, there was no way I could keep the run up for more than thirty seconds, let alone fly. ...Fly... FLY! MY PLANE! My eyes flicked toward the window, and the door suddenly slammed shut followed by a loud yelp. Alright, enough of this bullshit. I thought. My back feels like someone took a fucking sledgehammer to it, and there's no way I'm walking out of here. I laid my head down, sighing loudly. Guess all I can do is face the music. Straining my neck, I looked up toward the door. "You coming in or what?!" > Stateside > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “So let me get this straight…” The atmosphere of the Miami Airbase briefing room could be cut with a butter knife as several officers – None ranking lower than Captain – stared down Charles. The man who had spoken was a tall, slender man in his late fifties. As he paced, medals could be heard clinking together quietly as they dangled from the left coat pocket, while a full complement of ribbons adorned the entire right side if his chest up to his shoulder. Small metal eagles, each shined to a brilliant silver took their perches on both shoulders and one above the ribbons. Rubbing his short grey hair, he continued with a sharp exhale. "Your squadron leader, Major Allen, has disappeared with a one hundred and eighty million dollar aircraft, and nobody knows where he could possibly be." Colonel Rave rubbed his hair again, staring daggers into Charles' eyes. "Is that correct to assume, Lieutenant?" Charles stood from his seated position around the table, ready to give his statement. "Gentlemen," he began, "I understand that there is cause for suspicion here." Several officers shifted in their seats while Rave took his seat at the head of the long conference table. Charles continued, mainly focused on the Colonel himself. "But everything I know, everything that transpired there, everything that was recorded from the entire flight has been laid out and studied thoroughly by this committee. I played no part in the disappearance of my squadron leader, nor do I have anything to gain by said disappearance." "Lieutenant," one of the officers interrupted. "You mentioned a storm, and... black lightning?" Charles nodded. "Yes sir. However, the Doppler radar was showing nothing. The AESA however-" "What we're here to discuss," Colonel Rave interrupted, "is what happened to your flight leader and why you left his wing shortly before he disappeared." Charles narrowed his eyes barely managing not to clench his fists. "Due to the fact that you clearly left his wing with no recorded order having been given, I am forced to level the maximum sentence-" Rave's sentence was interrupted by the violent opening of the Briefing room door. A rather short man sporting a Technical Sergeant insignia burst into the room, carrying a folder. He stumbled to a stop, his hat falling to the floor. Not bothering to pick it up, he popped a quick salute, apparently just now realizing he was in the presence of no less than ten officers. "Sergeant McGuire," Rave acknowledged. "What brings you here?" "W-Well sir," McGuire began, " I have the reports from Lieutenant Harraland's black box." Rave nodded, motioning with his hand for the Sergeant to bring the folder forward. Charles' heart was pounding itself free of his ribcage, praying the report would show that Allen had in fact given him permission to return to base while he went ahead. He really didn't want to be flying a desk for the next few months or worse, be behind bars. As he handed the folder to Rave, McGuire turned and nodded to Charles. Nodding back, he shook his hand as he passed. Rave, looking over the file, raised his eyebrows and seemed to linger over a certain sentence. Without looking up, his eyes looked up to Charles while a grin slowly took the place of his thin monotone expression. "Well." Rave quipped. "It seems I was wrong in assuming you had left your squadron leader out of spite." Several murmurs around the table caused Charles to become a little more nervous than relieved. "However, until a thorough investigation disproves any act of sabotage, martyrdom, or desertion, your flight will remain confined to this base." Charles exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding. "You will be allowed flight time not to exceed fifteen hours weekly until this is all resolved, and you will not be allowed any weaponry to be carried on your aircraft." Charles stood still, not daring to press his luck. "As for Allen," Rave sighed, placing the folder down on the table slowly, "he will be presumed AWOL until any proof otherwise can be brought forward." Rave stood, taking a mess of papers and straightening them on the table. He looked at Charles, nodding. "This meeting is adjourned." ________________________________________________________________________ It wasn’t for another six hours that Charles had the appetite for any type of food. He had spent his time calling everyone he knew who would possibly know where Allen had gone. With his skill in that fighter, he could’ve landed it in his backyard if need be. However, the lack of any evidence to his whereabouts proved troublesome. There was no distress signal, no bailout emergency alerts, and strangely enough, absolutely no GPS hits since his disappearance. These thoughts plagued Charles' mind throughout the rest of the night, leaving him in a state of worry unknown to most men. Allen wasn't just his squadron leader, he was his mentor and brother. He had saved Charles more times than he could count, and took the heat for most of his mistakes. He looked over the silver bar on his dress hat, rubbing it with his thumb. He knew that without Allen, his dreams of becoming a fighter pilot would never have come true. He had been there from the start, always by his side and always the one to help. But now, he was either lost, dead, or had defected. He couldn’t believe it. After everything they’ve done and been through together, Allen had just taken his plane and disappeared? Impossible. He sat up, turning on the lamp next to the bed. Unable to sleep, he got up and sat at the small desk at the foot of the bed. Leaning back in the chair, he stared at the ceiling, going over every possible explanation for his squadron leader’s disappearance. Just as he delved into thought, there was a knock at his room’s door. Looking at the clock, which read 01:09, he rolled his tired eyes and got up to see who it was. “Who the hell is knocking on the door at this time…” He opened it, revealing two large men in stark black suits, complete with clear earpieces and smooth satin ties. Charles stared at them for a few seconds before chuckling. “You guys get paid to wear sunglasses at zero dark thirty?” The men looked at each other, then back to Charles. “Lieutenant Harraland?” One of the Suits asked. Charles nodded, his mood dimmed by the seriousness of the Suit’s voice. “We need you to come with us.” Charles raised an eyebrow and scratched his blonde hair. “Dude, I haven’t slept in-” “Now.” Charles flinched as they both grabbed each of his upper arms, pulling him into and down the hall. ________________________________________________________________________         The roar of jet engines echoed through Ramstein Air Base as squadrons of F-15s and Panavia Tornados took off for their first morning patrols. The Airmen and Officers of the base were on their daily routines, running the base smooth as a clock. Among the ant-like inhabitants of the base, two men walked through the halls, sporting satin black flight suits and large, abnormal helmets. They moved silently through the halls, weaving in and out of airmen and other base personnel. Arriving at a sealed off section of the base, they used a keycard to open doors from therein. They passed several unoccupied rooms, twisting and turning through the maze of dead silent halls. The only noises were the soft padding of boots on carpet and the occasional jet engine from outside. As the leader of the duo approached a large double door, the follower stopped. The leader, noticing the lack of noise from behind, stopped and looked at the other. "Gary, what's up?" The leader asked. "Nothing," Gary replied. "I'm just a little skeptical of the bullshit they fed us about Allen going rouge." "Gary, you know our squadron leader. He'd never turn his back on us." Gary nodded, adjusting his helmet in his arms. "Sorry Vince. I guess I'm just a little rattled from the news still." Vince walked back and put his gloved hand on Gary's shoulder. "Come on. Let's find out what the higher ups want with us." Nodding, Gary followed Vince past the double doors and into Ramstein’s auxiliary briefing room. As they entered, all twenty pairs of eyes fell on them, and the chatter fell instantly into a tinnitus inducing silence. Vince and Gary took their spots in the center of the room, surrounded by two crescent shaped tables with ten high ranking officers seated at each. They stood at parade rest, holding their helmets behind them. “At ease,” one of the officers said. “You two are here for a very important task.” As the two pilots dropped their parade rest, they both looked at the man talking. He was a Major General, and was seated at the head of the right table. “As you are well aware, your squadron leader, Major Steven Allen, disappeared off the coast of Florida in a region known as the ‘Bermuda Triangle’.” The two pilots nodded. “Your squadron mate, First Lieutenant Harraland, stated that Allen went alone into a large atmospheric disturbance. But what he didn’t know was that there was an AWACS, Callsign 'Feral' stationed eighty miles off the coast of Nassau, that had recorded the entire ordeal.” Vince and Gary looked at each other, both with varying levels of relief and worry. “Sir,” Vince started, “Do we know where Allen is now?” “Captain, since his disappearance, there has been no trace of GPS tracking on his plane  anywhere in the world. If he was in Russia, China or even North Korea, we’d know.” Vince nodded, deflating a bit. “Here is what we know so far.” A giant screen unrolled from the ceiling, allowing a projector to cast its picture onto it. What was displayed was the view of a radar, showing a massive blip and two others that were tiny in comparison. “What Harraland said was indeed correct. There was nothing to see on the weather radar, but something far more strange. It was only detectable through the AESA radar, showing as a massive object floating in the sky rather than a storm.” Vince cocked his head in confusion, while Gary listened intently. "Feral was able to record these images." The General took a small remote, pressing a button and cycling through several images. The first, albiet a little blurry, showed bright violet storm clouds gathering in a gnarled, twisted form. The second, clearer and more focused, showed that the clouds had grown exponentially in size and deepened in color. Gary and Vince looked at each other, worry crossing their faces. They both knew the new generation of F-35 was more than capable of handling storms like this... So why did Allen not make it? The third image was striking to say the least. An enormous flash of black lightning, highlighted against the deep violet, was shown arcing through the clouds in a series of jagged ovals. "Now keep in mind," the General spoke up, snapping both pilots and a few officers from their stupor, "these images were taken more than one hundred miles from the anomaly. Here is what AWACS Feral was picking up on radar during the time these images were taken." The screen separated into two halves, the left returning to the first photograph, while the right displayed the radar imagery. The first was quite large. Easily fifty miles by the looks of the scale provided in the bottom right. The second image, along with the accompanying radar scale, was astonishingly larger. In the span of minutes, the storm had more than doubled its size. Several murmurs around the tables made Gary look around, noticing all eyes were still on them. Were they silently laying the blame on them? Gary gripped his helmet harder, feeling eyes boring into him from all sides. As good as he was in the air, he never fully embraced the attention that came with it. From his early air shows to the rookie demonstrations, he never got around the feeling of eyes always watching and judging him. He still wondered to that day why he was chosen to fly the newest and best fighter the United States had to offer. He looked back to the screen, which now showed the third image again. The radar screen was completely filled with random contacts, seeming to match the lighting visible in the picture. It was like the lightning bolts were solid objects appearing in an instant. “We don’t know what exactly the AWACS and its crew witnessed, but before they could line up another picture," he adjusted his thick glasses and stared at the sentence he was trying to pronounce. "They saw a bright flash emanate from the center of the cloud, and in the next five seconds, the storm had vanished along with all radar contact." Vince and Gary were slowly putting the pieces together. "General, did Feral have Allen on radar just before the disappearance?" Vince asked, his worry clearly accented in his voice. "Yes, but according to the radar operators, all radar contact had ceased when the storm vanished." Both Gary and Vince looked at each other with shock and worry. "Sir, even if Allen had crashed, the F-35E's black box is designed to stay intact even in the most brutal of crashes." The General looked at the pilots, his interest peaked. "...And?" "And," Gary continued, "the black box broadcasts a distress signal in the event of a crash or malfunction. It has various failsafes that keep it active through every conceivable malfunction, all types of damage, and even if hit by the EMP of a nuclear detonation." The General raised his hand, signaling for Gary to quiet himself. "So you're saying, that Allen and his one hundred and eighty million dollar aircraft simply... vanished?" Gary didn't know what to say to that. He knew it was impossible, but before today, he thought lightning only came in white. "Sir, from what I've seen and what I've heard," Vinced chimed in, "I'm willing to believe that is exactly what happened." The General shook his head, at a loss for words. The evidence was overwhelming, and he knew something fishy had gone on by the looks of those photos and radar readings. Not knowing what to say, the General simply stood up and turned the projector off. The numerous officers looked at him, wondering what the old coot was going to say next. "Gentlemen, in all my years I have never seen or heard of a situation like this. However, it is our duty to figure out just what in the hell we're gonna do about it, and bring our missing pilot home." Gary and Vince nodded. "So, pack your bags boys. You're heading to the Bahamas."   > Suit Up > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The fourth hangar of Ramstein Air Base was alive with the sounds of personnel, jet engines, and the general metallics of mechanical tools. The morning brought with it a cool, dry air, along with a sunrise that could have rivaled the beauty of a West Texas sunset. The runway crews had long since finished their sweep, ensuring that no rocks or pebbles were available to be sucked into air intakes. So far, it was just a normal day at the office for many. After hearing that their flight lead was gone, Vince hadn't taken the news well. He had retired to his bunk after the briefing and voraciously searched the computer for any information regarding him. The label of ‘traitor’ and ‘deserter’ had been tossed around a lot, especially on the base’s local chat feed. He had promptly thrown the laptop out the second story window. Gary, however, being the more level headed of the two, had gone to the hangar to check, check, and re-check his plane over and over again to make sure he’d be ready for the flight to Miami. His plane had always been a way to distract him from the problems that came with being one of the best pilots the United States had to offer. The most common being the sole squadron to call on to perform the most dangerous missions on the Air Force's rap sheet. But now, he wasn't sure if his favorite pass time would be enough to quell his growing anxiety. The feeling of hopelessness was creeping up his spine like mistletoe on a tree, and it was robbing him of his nerve. No matter how experienced the rest of them were, the fact of the matter was that X-Ray squadron was lost without their leader. Gary had just finished checking the main compressor blade when a familiar voice called up to him from the ground. "So, do you really think Allen would abandon his squadron?" Gary looked down, smiling as he saw who had addressed him. "Of course not," he answered. "Do you?" The woman shook her head, letting her long brown hair tussle a little. "Aleah!" She turned around to see her flight leader addressing her. Gary looked up, and at the sight of him, let his smile turn rigid. His gut churned, and the muscles in his back quivered. This was the ONE man he did not want to see right now. But with all things considered and Aleah's sudden appearance, Gary knew he should have expected to see him in trail. "Yea?" Aleah asked, her tone notably sour. Gary mentally laughed. Major Randy "Raid" Shutter, the flight leader of Suit Squadron, was as brash and arrogant as a pilot could be. Gary's history with him dated back to before flight school, at the beginning of basic training. They had always been polar opposites, and their personal clashes often got them in trouble with the higher ups. However, after Beast week, they had learned to cooperate as a team at least until Basic Training was over. Randy looked up at Gary, scowling a little. "I need you to go and get your plane prepped, we're heading out on a reconnaissance mission soon, and it's going to be a long haul," he sighed. Aleah huffed, rolling her eyes. "Where to this time?" "Southern Bermuda Triangle." She looked back up at Gary with an inquiring expression. Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. "This wouldn't have anything to do with Major Allen's disappearance... Would it?" Gary had returned to his plane, keeping his ears firmly locked on their conversation. He nearly dropped his pressure gauge when he heard Allen's name be mentioned in a reconnaissance mission. Standing from the front tire, he returned his tools to their proper places and walked up to the two. "Coulda swore I heard you mention a reconnaissance mission for my flight leader." Aleah was silent. "And what, his number four man isn't invited?" He asked harshly, gesturing to himself. "What about Vince? Charles? Don't they get to look for their flight lead?" Randy stepped up, puffing his chest a bit. "Lieutenant, I suggest you watch your tone when addressing a Captain. She might not take it kindly." Aleah stepped forward, an arm's length from Gary. "Gary, I'm sorry, but your plane isn't equipped to handle a reconnaissance mission into the Triangle. If Allen was lost, then that means your plane might be just as vulnerable. The higher ups didn't want to take the risk of losing the rest of you." Gary was silent, looking at her as if she were an idiot. "And Charles? He followed Allen a hundred miles into the Triangle and and yet he made it out just fine!" "Because he turned around before he hit whatever Allen did. Of course his plane was affected when they entered the Triangle, but whatever that storm was, it seemed to have brought down Allen." Gary huffed and turned his back to her, walking over to the hangar door. He turned to face them just as he reached and opened it. "You better not leave without me." He slammed the door behind him, making the metal walls rattle all around. A white stallion entered the palace Armory and ran to the far left wall. It was dark, but the moonlight that poured through the skylight provided enough light to see what he was after. He ran around several cases of armor, caches of weapons, and multiple sections of bookcases. Skidding to a halt, he opened a particular locker, revealing a set of golden armor gilded with a jade symbol on the chestplate - the symbol of the Royal Guard Scouts. "Whos here!?" A voice called from the entrance. The white stallion quickly shut the cabinet that housed the armor with the softest click he could manage, and ducked behind the nearest weapon rack. The voice was that of a mare, and he could hear the soft click of her hoof guards on the marble floor as she began searching. "You know," she called out, "being a batpony has its advantages..." The stallion's breath caught in his throat as he realized his hiding spot was virtually useless now. "Why hello there, Jetstream." The stallion yelped loudly as the voice sounded directly in his ear, and the warm breath pooled over his cheek.  he spun to see large, green eyes glowing in front of his face. "Damnit, Shadow!" He yelled, clutching his chest. "You know I hate that!" The batpony laughed and smiled, letting her fangs glint slightly in the moonlight. "So, what brings you to the armory at this time of night?" Jetstream had his composure back, flapping his wings a few times to relieve the tension. He turned, nearly flicking her face with his tail. "Classified," he said dryly. "Oh please," Shadow scoffed. "You know the Lunar Guard is supposed to handle the night ops." Jetstream reopened the locker and grabbed the chestplate, donning it with a swift motion of his wings and forelegs. "Too bad none of you are fast enough to do what needs to be done tonight," he stated with a smirk. He struggled to connect the harness that would hold the armor around the small of his back, and a tender touch of Shadow's silver clad hooves helped him slip it on. He shuddered, blushing as he felt her touch dangerously close to his flanks. He jerked away, looking at her with surprise. "Uh.. Thanks." Shadow's eyes seemed to glow a little brighter in the moonlight, and she flashed a toothy smile that made him shiver. "No problem, Jet." The way she called him by his nickname seemed to smolder with heat, yet seemed sarcastic at the same time. He looked at her questioningly before returning his gaze to the locker. He retrieved his helmet, looking back and finding that Shadow had disappeared. He scoffed. "Typical." He put the helmet on, spreading his wings and launching through the open skylight. ~~~ "Major Jetstream, do you know what must be done?" Celestia asked him. "Yes, Princess. I will proceed to the Wonderbolt academy and gather information on what has appeared there." Celestia and Luna nodded their heads, and they each signed an order for his mission. "Princesses, with all due respect, why wasn't a member of the Lunar Guard assigned this task?" Luna straightened up, her face taking a serious look that made him shiver. "Because in this situation, the speed of a pegasus will be needed, and this object that we have seen is far faster than any batpony is capable of." Jetstream nodded, turning to go. "And one more thing, Major." He stopped, turning to face Celestia. "I don't want anypony knowing about this mission. I only want you to see what's going on and report back to us." "Yes, Your Majesty." He turned and took off, racing for the armory. ~~~ Twenty minutes. He smiled, knowing he had broken his previous record of twenty two. Jetstream had traveled halfway across Equestria in less than half an hour. But of course, this time he had caught a good tailwind and was boosted a bit. The night time air was crisp and cool, and the temperature was perfect for high altitude flying. It was one of those nights that just made it great to be a pegasus. As he soared over a familiar mountain, he caught a glimmer of white in the distance. He could tell that it was moonlight reflecting off of something, but he was too far to make it out. As he got closer, the object sitting on the academy tarmac was still unrecognizable. It was massive, at least fifty times his size. Reaching the grounds, he circled high overhead, watching the moonlit ground. The large object was on the ground, unmoving. He assumed it was either off or asleep, unaware if it was sentient or not. What kind of animal or machine is that? Jetstream asked himself, stopping his circling and hovering. He looked all around, seeing nothing else that could've caused alarm for the princesses. As if that thing down there wasn't enough... He descended slowly, trying to keep his wing beats as quiet as possible to not alarm or startle the large beast. He perched on top of the nearest building's roof, eyes locked on the massive figure. I don't hear breathing... I don't see any movement, and nopony seems to be disturbed by its presence. Jetstream's thinking was interrupted by a sudden thud from under him. Fearing he had been discovered, he took off in a beeline for the nearest cloud. Aleah sat in the cockpit of her RF-16, going over her pre flight checks. Her helmet blocked out most of her engine's noise, but the constant heavy hum was getting to her as always, and her temper was getting frail. "Suit Flight, check in. This is King, flat top rolling." Randy's voice was like a nail on a chalkboard to her, and she gritted her teeth. "Heart, flat top rolling," she replied sternly, pushing the throttle lever forward lightly. "Diamond, flat top rolling." The new voice was of Aleah's wingman, Logan "Diamond" Thomason. He was relatively new to the squadron, but already had two MiG kills under his belt from the recent operations in Africa. Being the youngest of the squadron, he was always the butt of everyone's joke. But his skill in the air made him a force to be reckoned with on the training grounds. "Spade, flat top rolling." Zane "Spade" Hillard, the newest member of Suit squadron, was also the most combat experienced. He had transferred from Egypt Squadron, an F-15C squadron stationed in Northern Sudan, to the new reconnaissance RF-16s. While on his second tour, he had claimed four air to air victories; All with his cannon. He had something against missiles, but nobody ever asked him why because his skill in a close end fight was more than enough to compensate. To top it off, Randy had personally asked him to be his new wingman. "Hey Spade, how's the knee?" Aleah could hear some feedback in her headset, and she adjusted her mic. "Better. Those yoga lessons are paying off," Zane replied in his signature baritone voice. "Yea I gotta get in on that, I hear the ladies love that shit." Logan's energetic voice was always a welcome break in the tension during missions, but frequently landed him in hot water with the higher ups. "Quiet you three. Prepare for takeoff. Tandem, and don't falter formation. We have an image to uphold." Aleah's smile from Logan had twisted into a sneer as Randy's unwelcome voice came across her helmet. She formed up alongside Logan and Zane, parting to stay on Randy's right wing and keep Zane on his left. A classic Fingertip Formation. “Tower this is Suit Squadron, we’re ready for takeoff,” Randy called over the radio. As Aleah waited for the tower’s confirmation, a glint of metal in her overhead rearview mirrors caught her eye. There, pulling up behind the four RF-16s, was familiar looking F-35. The rudders were slanted far steeper than a normal F-35, and the fuselage was more trapezoidal than smooth. Before it registered, Gary’s voice over the radio brought a smile to her lips. “Tower this is X-Ray Four. I will be flying with Suit Squadron today.” Randy nearly jumped out of his ejection seat. “X-Ray Four, I have not authorized any such action with my squadr-” Another voice cut his off. “On the contrary, I have authorized his egress with your squadron.” Colonel Rave’s voice was finally a welcome one to Gary. “X-Ray Four, your callsign for the duration of this mission will be “Jack”. You will take Club’s place as King’s Wingman and fly top cover for the search operation.” Randy was silent as his wingman was replaced against his will. “Now, go find Allen. You have permission for takeoff. Good luck, and keep an eye out for enemy forces patrolling the area.” Randy watched as Gary took position a few hundred feet behind him on the runway. “Kid, you’ll do what I say, when and exactly how I say when we’re up there, got it?” Gary nodded instinctively. “Yes sir.” “Alright then,” Randy said as he pulled down his helmet’s visor. “Suit Squadron, take off!” The roar of five turbofan engines echoed through the base as Suit Squadron accelerated into the skies in search of Allen.