March 8th, 993 Domina Solaris

“Ah-ten-shun!”

Rainbow Dash bolts awake, her sheet kicking off in one smooth motion. Truthfully, her rest could barely be called that, and she had tossed and turned all through the night. Every bump or stray cough had jolted her awake, like the drill sergeants were going to send them on some midnight fifty click stroll. And every time she had to remind herself that they weren’t going through bit camp yet. That would be after their medical, the practical portion of their entrance exam, and the dreaded written section.

A chromatic blur zips to the hoof of the bed. Rainbow Dash stands at attention, proud to be the first pony in position. A thin smile creeps over her muzzle as she watches her fellow recruits struggle to disentangle themselves from their sheets. Only one other pegasus stands tall directly across the aisle, just a feather behind.

She bears a striking resemblance to Captain Spitfire: cutie mark an ascending flame, yellow coat a shade darker, and her burnt orange mane misses Spitfire’s lighter orange streak. Yet her mane has that same fiery quality, styled as an inferno billowing upwards, reflecting that burning passion that Rainbow Dash hopes to match.

Rainbow Dash lets her attention turn to the rest of the room, observing out of the corners of her eyes as the other fourteen recruits scramble into position. By the door stand two Wonderbolts, and she has to stop herself from shouting in joy. Captain Spitfire! Her idol, the leader of the ‘Bolts, has on a dark blue jacket with red and gold epaulets, shades casually propped up on her mane, and such a stern expression that Rainbow Dash might have buckled under the pressure if she wasn’t already at attention, and thus not one of the fourteen already under her ire.

The second, a white stallion she recognizes as Fast Clip, has a similar dark blue jacket with light blue trim. Ears poke out from a ballcap, light blue shades still on his eyes, a wing holding a clipboard. He clears his throat as the final recruit stands at attention.

“Stallions!”

The same gruff voice as earlier belts out, and Rainbow Dash can see the two stallions nervously gulp. She keeps her stiff posture, the Spitfire wannabe doing the same even as the other mares relax.

Fast Clip’s eyes roam over all sixteen, many of the mares awkwardly returning to attention as they realize he wasn’t referring to just the guys.

“Wonderbolts,” Captain Spitfire starts from the doorway, slowly walking through the center of the two long rows of recruits. Her harsh, raspy voice carries more than a hint of pride. “Work in flights of six.”

Heads covertly glance from side to side, quickly counting up the number of pegasi.

“You,” Captain Spitfire spits out, “are not Wonderbolts.”

“Yet,” Rainbow Dash mutters under her breath.

A single blazing flap of yellow propels Captain Spitfire directly in front of Rainbow Dash, her wake threatening to blow the other pegasi over. But Rainbow Dash stands her ground, calmly returning a neutral stare directly in front of her.

“Did I give you permission to speak?!” bellows Captain Spitfire, living up to her name as steaming flecks of spit splatter into Rainbow Dash’s eyes.

“Ma’am, no, ma’am!” Rainbow Dash belts out, managing to not blink away the irritating saliva.

“Because if you even so much as think of stepping a feather out of line you’ll be iced so fast they’ll call you Rainbow Splash!”

Rainbow Dash can’t help but grin, coolly staring forward.

Captain Spitfire huffs, turning to the rest of the group. “As you are not yet Wonderbolts, you will be broken into four teams of four.” Her blazing glare bounces from recruit to recruit and lingers on those who have the audacity to turn their head to watch her, threatening to burn them if it lingers too long.

“Remember this order, because we expect you to pick things up the first time.” Captain Spitfire nods to Fast Clip as she resumes her position at attention by the door.

Fast Clip takes a single step forward. “Medical, Practical, Written, Canteen.” He looks over the sixteen recruits, seeing slight nods of understanding. “Group Teal starts in medical. Group Turquoise, practical. Group Cobalt, written. Group Magenta, Canteen.”

Rainbow Dash nods to herself. Easy enough. She hopes to be in Turquoise; she’s raring to go, and wants to get that out of the way. Actually, any of them but Cobalt would be great, she definitely doesn’t want to start on the written side of things.

“Group Teal!” Fast Clip belts out, glancing at his clipboard. “Blaze.”

The yellow pegasus struts a single step forward, smirking confidently. She meets Rainbow Dash’s eye, nonchalantly flipping her mane.

For Rainbow Dash, the message is clear. You’re already behind me.

“Rainbow Dash!”

Rainbow Dash takes a step forward, holding her head high. Not for long.

“Lime Jelly.”

A green mare with a purple mane steps up, next to Rainbow Dash.

“Midnight Strike.”

A black stallion with a yellow and black mane steps up on the far end of the room.

Fast Clip’s eyes dart to each of them. “You know where to go.”

The four recruits trot to the door, past the watchful eyes of Captain Spitfire.

No sooner does the door close behind the four and Blaze glances to Rainbow Dash, eyes gleaming. “Race ya,” she says, immediately taking off with an orange blur.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” exclaims Rainbow Dash as she sprints behind, the other two recruits in hot pursuit. Their course takes them straight across the mountain plateau, a beeline for their first destination. What should have, in Rainbow Dash’s mind, been a complete blowout instead turns to a neck and neck race, only Blaze’s head start letting her have a chance.

And just as quickly the half click race is over, the four skidding to a stop just outside the white medical building topped by a red cross. Except Rainbow Dash doesn’t quite brake well enough, coming to a light thump against the door, sinking to her barrel. She hates the triumphant look on Blaze’s face as the yellow pegasus opens the door, the other two also passing the downed pegasus.

Rainbow Dash grits her teeth as she pushes herself up. Sticking the landing is quite possibly the most challenging part of any routine, and it frustrates her to no end that she wasn’t able to this time. In fact, she’s been struggling for at least the last week, her acceleration and timing not as pinpoint as they should have been. But it’s not the feather flu, or the pony pox, or even the common cold!

Whatever it is, it hasn’t gone away. At least she’s been able to practice with her diminished capabilities, but when she gets excited she reverts back to her instincts, and her instincts always tell her to go fast. Too fast.

With a huff she pushes open the door.

Rainbow Dash trots into the sterile smelling doctor’s office. A mildly bemused tan nurse, cutie mark of a white stretcher lifting off, sits behind a glass wall off to the side, idly flicking through a folder not quite stuffed as it is bursting at the seams. A few benches line the pristine white walls, Lime Jelly and Midnight Strike calmly waiting. Soft recessed lights in the ceiling bath magazines and potted plants in a warm glow.

“Talk to me,” the nurse states, not looking up as she pulls out various folders and arranging various forms. She has a little tag identifying herself as Ell Enn.

“I’m here for the medical? Stuff?” Rainbow Dash looks around, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. She chides herself; why didn’t I just sit down?

“Here’s your stop,” Nurse Ell Enn says, motioning towards an empty bench. “Be sure to wipe your hooves at the door.”

“Oh, um, okay.” Rainbow Dash looks at her hooves. There’s just a tiny amount of dirt, but they must care a lot about cleanliness here or something. She grabs one of the hoofwipes, noting three used ones already in the trash. She grumbles to herself as she sits down; why couldn’t Sight Seer have told her about this?

After about ten minutes Nurse Ell Enn leaves with a different folder and Lime Jelly. After five minutes she comes back, leaves again with Midnight Strike. Bored, alone, and without much to do, Rainbow Dash stares at the weird clock on the wall. Two black legs move around like normal, except the only number is a single five in the bottom right corner. So she drops down and starts doing wingups.

The next time the nurse returns Rainbow Dash hops up. “Ready for me?” she asks eagerly.

“Go into the light,” is all the nurse says with a professional demeanor, motioning to the well lit hallway. She looks bored of the song and dance, efficiently taking the thick folder with a wing. She swiftly turns and trots to the nearest open examination room. She doesn’t wait for Rainbow Dash, plopping the folder next to one of two lab coated stallions and exiting the room just as quickly as she entered.

A wing just a shade off the color of fresh blood flicks open the folder. Piercing blue eyes scan through the pages of notes and pictures of previous injuries, his speed suggesting it isn’t the first time he’s looked through this particular portfolio. Rainbow Dash would put him as giddy, his coat rippling with barely contained excitement like Pinkie Pie if she had the tiniest bit of self control, and it seems like his cutie mark - a white dove, head cocked curiously to the side - nearly comes alive. He pauses as he gets to the last set of pictures, then flips the folder closed with a strong sense of finality.

He glances up, eyes scanning the mare waiting in the doorway. “Guten Tag, Rainbow Dash. Mein name ist Doctor Vacuum Suction, but you can call me M. D. Vac. Mein Kamerad in crime, Doctor Life Guard.” The light blue unicorn, cutie mark of twin snakes wrapping around a rod topped by a pair of wings, turns to give a friendly wave. M. D. Vac motions towards the solitary examination table. “Take a seat.”

“Just in and out, right?” Rainbow Dash asks a little impatiently as she hops up, turning to lay ponyloaf facing the doctors.

“Sorry, Miss Dash,” Dr. Life Guard says apologetically, “but due to your extensive history with some of our colleagues-” he indicates the thick folder “-we’ll be doing a more comprehensive examination. You’ll have plenty of time for your performance afterwards.” A light blue hoof raises to the flashlight strapped to his head. He clicks it on, a bright light shining into Rainbow Dash’s eyes. She squints, almost raising a hoof to block the blinding light, but he quickly shifts to her other eye.

“Is that really necessary?” Rainbow Dash huffs disapprovingly. “I feel fine!”

“Captain Spitfire’s orders.” M. D. Vac’s harsh tone fades as Rainbow Dash complies with a grunt. “Anything happen recently, since your last checkup?”

“Nope,” Rainbow Dash says with a hint of pride, her wings popping out for the doctors to inspect. “Well, nothing that’ll affect this. My heat ended early, but I got it checked out and nothing was wrong.”

“I see.” M. D. Vac glances over as the door opens, the tan nurse wheeling in a metal contraption with a flat viewscreen and squat tube attached to a long hose. “Danke, Ell Enn.”

She politely nods in return as he pulls out a long, thin needle and a few vials. “I vill need to draw some blood.”

“I’m not afraid of needles,” Rainbow Dash says brashly, holding out a foreleg. Her curious gaze remains on the machine. “What’s that?”

“Zat,” M. D. Vac explains patiently as Dr. Life Guard gets everything with the machine ready, “is an ultrasound. It uses sound to display an image of vat’s underneath zat coat of yours, letting us see muscles and make sure all your bones are healthy.”

Rainbow Dash cocks her head to the side. “Is it like one of those thaumythings?” She grunts as the needle pierces her coat, watching the first of three vials fill with blood. Once he’s done the red stallion takes the vials to the counter, working on something out of her sight.

“Thaumic resonators.” Dr. Life Guard answers as he holds the probe in front of Rainbow Dash, letting her get a good look at it. “And yes, though this doesn’t rely on unicorn gobbledygook. Well, except for a power source. It uses special crystals that we modulate to see inside you. It won’t detect your magic, but instead your physical being. We’ll be bringing in one of those next.”

“And, is that thing going, um,” Rainbow Dash says, her hindquarters clenching nervously. The probe reminds her, quite honestly, of Doug’s stallionhood.

Dr. Life Guard snorts, though he manages to turn it into a well meaning chuckle. “No, this isn’t that kind of examination. We merely need to run it along your coat, though the hairs do tend to mess with the image. I’m sorry if it tickles. I’ll also be using a special gel that lets me get a better image. It washes out easily once we’re done.”

“Oh, okay,” Rainbow Dash says, still not quite trusting the probe. She turns, trying to relax. The corner of her eye watches where it is going like a griffon. The gel feels weird against her coat, like she’s flying into the thickest fog she can imagine, and it clings to her coat even as the probe slowly moves up her foreleg. The monitor is angled so that she can see the image, but it’s all grainy and the only thing she can really make out is that there is a bone somewhere in the middle.

“It looks like your hoof fracture healed perfectly,” Dr. Life Guard says, Rainbow Dash nodding along. He goes back and forth between her legs and a reference sheet of all the bones she’s broken and ligaments she’s torn - at least, the ones she was hospitalized for, and she’s impressed that he catches a number of minor injuries that she never reported. Still, he reassures her that everything looks good, and nothing will hold her back.

Then he gets to her wings, going interminably slowly. Rainbow Dash groans as she holds still, the images far too boring. And she can’t think of her routine, because when she imagines herself flying that makes her wings twitch and that earns her a sharp flick to her ear. So she stares at another weird clock with just one number. This time it’s a seven.

After what seems like three forevers where the long leg went from on one side of the seven to barely past the other he finally finishes with her wings. Her barrel twitches as the slick gel touches her belly. Rainbow Dash glances at the screen, but it’s the same weird looking organs and muscles and stuff she can’t explain. By Celestia, she just wants to fly! How hard is this?!

“What’s the average endometrium thickness?” asks Dr. Life Guard neutrally, Rainbow Dash’s ear perking up.

“It should have thinned to point one hoof,” M. D. Vac responds almost instantly, with a slight tinge of annoyance. Then a frown crosses his muzzle as he gets up from the counter, taking a look at the image. “Vel.”

“Something wrong?” asks Rainbow Dash, voice steeped with worry.

M. D. Vac studies Rainbow Dash face for a long moment. “No,” he finally states as he goes back to the counter. It pains him to do this, to medically disqualify a candidate before she has the chance to prove herself, but it’s safer for both the dam and foal to not put them through such a strenuous routine. “Every-zin is healthy.”

“Oh, good,” Rainbow Dash says with a huge sigh of relief, going back to staring at the clock.

The two doctors exchange a silent look before Dr. Life Guard finishes his exam and packs away the machine.

“Dropping off,” Nurse Ell Enn says as she wheels in a clunky box, swapping it for the ultrasound. “And picking up.”

“Danke,” M. D. Vac says as he gets the thaumic resonator ready. A switch clicks on, irradiating Rainbow Dash in a harsh white light.

“Hey,” Rainbow Dash says, looking at her hooves in the light. They are a bright blue, exactly the color of her cutie mark. “It’s a different color than before.”

“I assume a unicorn did your previous scan?” Dr. Life Guard says as M. D. Vac takes careful notes of how Rainbow Dash’s magic courses through her body. Rainbow Dash nods, earning her a throat clearing from the red doctor. “Their horns can tinge things with a different light, depending on their mark. But we are mostly looking at the flow, and you look quite open. Almost no blockages one might get from practicing. Very bright, too.”

“Thanks!” Rainbow Dash says, inspecting her body. All she can really tell is that bright colors swirl around her.

“Vel. Vat have ve here?” M. D. Vac inspects Rainbow Dash’s belly, going so far as to almost press his glasses against her. “Na-zing?”

“What?” Dr. Life Guard says, also taken aback. His head cocks to the side curiously. “Fascinating.”

“Yeah, I am pretty awesome,” Rainbow Dash says with a nervous chuckle. She breathes another sigh of relief as they click the thaumic resonator off. “Am I ready to compete?”

“Von more thing,” M. D. Vac says, pulling out another vial. “Just another sample of blood, and you’ll be good to go.”

Rainbow Dash dutifully sticks out a foreleg, grinning. One filled vial later and she darts out the door, not wanting to put off her performance any longer.

“You’re sure?” Dr. Life Guard says with a frown as the door closes.

“One flight von’t hurt,” M. D. Vac says, swirling the vial. “Vel, too much.” He flicks the vial with a hoof. “And zis vill tell us for sure.”

Next Chapter: Ch. 68 - Mutewind Pennant Estimated time remaining: 6 Hours, 45 Minutes