Rainbow Dash bursts out of the medical building, barely registering the next flight of four recruits making their way from the canteen. Her mind is lost in her upcoming routine; even though it’s short, it has to be perfect! Well, it better be, to make up for the dreadful score she knows she’s going to get on the written.

Can’t focus on that!

She grits her teeth, driving the negative thoughts from her head with another powerful burst from her wings. A beeline to the runway doesn’t seem fast enough, pouring on more speed to make up for how long she spent with the two doctors. At least that’s done and over with and she won’t need to see them again! Well, unless she messes up the landing.

But that’s not gonna happen!

Captain Spitfire, Fast Clip and Whiplash are chatting amicably with Midnight Strike. It’s either that or they’re chewing him out, and he’s taking it like a mare. And, the closer Rainbow Dash gets, the more it seems like the second, though more focused on things to practice and ways to improve than berating. Which is good; Rainbow Dash, like most mares, doesn’t enjoy seeing stallions put down like that. Meanwhile, Blaze and Lime Jelly rest on the nearby bleachers, both watching the cerulean pegasus approach. Midnight Strike gives a curt nod, joining the other two recruits.

Rainbow Dash forces a smile to her muzzle as she lands next to the three Wonderbolts. She stares up at the sun, the harsh light somewhat mitigated by the somewhat shallow angle. Calculating angles and air pressure has never been Rainbow Dash’s forte, but she forces herself to go through the process anyway, ending up with a light sigh. She would rather have done this closer to noon, it would have been more impressive, but Wonderbolts fly in any conditions.

“Ready to go, Dash?” asks Fast Clip neutrally, a sharp click right after he finishes speaking. She can hear the impatience in his voice, that Wonderbolts do not tolerate delays, no matter how justified. And how he holds up his hoof and glances down it, even though he’s not wearing a watch, like she’s some sort of mudpony too good to look up at the sun.

Rainbow Dash bristles, biting back her first sarcastic comment. “Just need to set up,” she barks out. And warm up, but I doubt you’ll give me that courtesy, either.

“Timer’s started,” says Whiplash, holding up a stopwatch. Ten of her one hundred eighty seconds have already ticked away.

Rainbow Dash takes a deep breath, forcing down her retort, how unfair it is to give her no warning, no warmup, and having the other three spectate while Blaze had nopony to make her nervous.

It’s the Wonderbolts; if you can’t hack it like this, in practice? What the buck do you think they’ll expect when it’s the real thing?!

Rainbow Dash takes off, but not to the sky. She skims over the surface towards the closest cloud generator, ripping away a medium sized cloud and pushing it far to the east of Captain Spitfire. It’s thicker than she wants but a few quick slams of her hooves breaks it into three wispier chunks.

Captain Spitfire calmly watches Rainbow Dash set up the three clouds, each a little bit further away and higher than the last. It’s not unheard of for a recruit to use props during their practical exam, but they do get graded a little tougher for it. She trades glances with her two drill instructors as Rainbow Dash lands, then gives them a salute - the signal for her performance to begin.

A single steadying breath is all Rainbow Dash allows herself before she takes to the air. She starts off with a single horizontal loop centered around the topmost cloud, both to warm up and to acclimate herself to the conditions colder than Ponyville, not that she really notices. After one full rotation she swaps to a vertical loop around the third cloud, a smooth transition making circles the exact same size. Then it’s a circle around the second cloud, but slants this one at a forty five degree angle.

Captain Spitfire raises an eyebrow; a pegasus might use a cloud as a marker, or rarely a barrier to break through. But what Rainbow Dash is doing is entirely different, more artistic. Not entirely unexpected from a weatherpony, a good use of her skills, and Captain Spitfire allows a thin smirk to cross her muzzle.

Rainbow Dash tightens her circles as she returns to the horizontal plane, feeling the wispy cloud start to pull apart. She knows she’s behind on time, and the pressure is starting to get to her. She speeds up, her wings fully cooperating, that rush from her cutie mark and knowing she is going to win spurring her faster and faster. After her third spin around the clouds have fully separated into rings, and it’s time for phase two.

A single, carefully measured flap of her wings is all it takes to send Rainbow Dash rocketing straight into the sky. A single hoof stretches as far as she can, grasping for something just out of reach. Her eyes focus on a seemingly random point of sky, her wings fall limply to her sides, her hind legs dangle uselessly.

Captain Spitfire frowns as the cerulean pegasus, difficult to make out against the clear blue sky, seems to give up mid performance. Yet Dash’s momentum keeps her rising, slower yet higher, until a hoof nearly graces the sun.

It wipes the frown off Captain Spitfire’s muzzle; she goes so far to drop her sunglasses like it might have been some trick of the light. No, she chides herself, that recruit is putting on a show.

Down, down, down falls Rainbow Dash, her eyes transfixed on that random spot in the sky, a palpable sense of loss at coming so close to her goal, yet it remains unattained.

And still she falls, Fast Clip and Whiplash trading nervous looks.

Now!

At what seems like the last possible second two cerulean wings flare out, a graceful half-flip that sends Rainbow Dash muzzle first towards the first of the three rings.

Too early!

Yet it’s too late for her to make any corrections, the powerful flap of her wings already pushing her on course towards the second ring. She can only grit her teeth, stifling the frustrated cry as she barely clips the front section of the horizontal ring, her acceleration taking her right through the middle of the second. Yet her exultant cheer at making at least one of her targets quickly dies. Her wings nearly seize, the harsh maneuver straining her to her limit, and she barely makes it past the vertical ring without plowing through the entire bottom section.

Her wings burn like they are on fire, and it’s all Rainbow Dash can do to land without toppling over. She trots the remaining distance to the Wonderbolts, confidently holding her head high. She can’t help but smirk at the gawks the other three recruits are giving her, but the instructors look far less impressed. Well, at least, they have the same neutral expression they always have, except Rainbow Dash can see how their shoulders and flanks flex, like they’d be pounding a hoof on the ground if it was appropriate.

“Most recruits don’t use up every last second,” starts Captain Spitfire in that gravely voice of hers, sparing a glance to double check Whiplash’s timer. Her focus returns to Rainbow Dash. “Or incorporate a story into their routine.”

“I think you’ll find,” Rainbow Dash says, allowing her smirk to spread across her muzzle, “that I’m not most recruits.”

Captain Spitfire’s grin matches Rainbow Dash’s. “I like your style, Dash. Rest of them could learn something from you. But, it doesn’t hurt going through a second time.”

Rainbow Dash growls at the reminder, grudgingly nodding. It deflates her spirit, but not by much, and she’ll prove she has what it takes this time!

“Also, The Imareus?” Captain Spitfire cocks her head at Rainbow Dash. “You have a Day Dalus help you come up with that? Don’t recall anything so fanciful on your first attempt.”

Rainbow Dash hesitates, awkwardly glancing towards Ponyville.

“No points off if you did,” Captain Spitfire continues, a little softer, following Rainbow Dash’s gaze. “Not everypony has come up with the whole routine.”

“I came up with most of it,” Rainbow Dash answers after a long pause, not satisfied with herself. She wishes she didn’t need the help. “The circles were from a simple practice routine. The climb off one burst, the stall, the reaching hoof and fall, the slow speed Filly Flash, that was all me. Um, Doug recommended I incorporate the clouds as the rings I shoot through at the end, and he helped me with getting the angle right on the sun touch. Sight Seer helped with that, um, perspective stuff too, but just the once.”

“Glad to hear that you can utilize advice.” Captain Spitfire hides her frown at the mention of the anomaly reported by Sight Seer. Not that she has any qualms with him, but she would have liked to make use of a pegasus if that was their special talent, even if they themselves didn’t have the skills to compete. “What made you want to use this routine?”

“It was an early play Bow, my sire, took me to. It inspired me to one day be the pony who actually touched the Sun. Because who wants to be known as the loser who failed to fly as high as Princess Celestia?” Rainbow Dash snickers to herself, though her smile quickly fades. “But after I did fail to join the ‘Bolts the first time, I wanted to use those feelings, and this is what I came up with. Because I’m not going to fail a second time.”

Rainbow Dash ends with a cocky swagger, her wings already starting to feel better. Hopefully she’ll have fully recovered by the time they do sprints later on.

“Well, you’re well on your way there.” Captain Spitfire glances to her notes. “Highest score of the first eight.”

“Highest score we’ve given in years,” mutters Fast Clip to Whiplash.

Rainbow Dash grins broadly, standing up even straighter.

“Still, not every routine is perfect. Your clouds were out of position, or you exited your freefall too early without enough acceleration.” Captain Spitfire looks over her glasses to inspect Rainbow Dash. “From my guess, you thought the clouds were spaced right, which means you tired out too quickly. Work on that endurance. And with what we’ve seen, your initial cloud spins could have been quicker.” As Rainbow Dash opens her mouth to object she continues, “I know you cut that short because of time, but you should have showed off your speed a little more.”

Rainbow Dash shuts her mouth, nodding along. “I’ll show my speed off in the races, ma’am.”

Captain Spitfire glances to Fast Clip and Whiplash. Seeing nothing she turns back to Rainbow Dash, giving her a curt nod. Her speaking voice, not loud, still carries easily. “Recruits, dismissed.”

Rainbow Dash joins the other three moving towards a squat administration building, and she can feel the beads of sweat already forming. Hopefully they average these scores, or something. She’d hate to not pass one portion and fail out.

“That was pretty cool,” Midnight Strike says to Rainbow Dash, trotting next to her. The other two recruits have taken to the air, no challenging taunts issued this time. “How did you space the climb so well?”

“Lots of practice,” Rainbow Dash admits, happy to stay on the ground. “We’d have to take empty storm clouds to the ground to make fog, so it was constant up and down movements. Got really good at coasting to a stop after one push.”

“And here I was thinking you were going to say pure skill,” quips Midnight Strike with a wink.

“Oh, there’s that too,” Rainbow Dash rips back, swishing her mane confidently.

The four enter the building, quickly finding the room and sitting down to take their tests. A certain amount of dread fills Rainbow Dash’s chest as she looks at the thick stack of papers, then at Commander Soarin. He has a slice of pie in his hoof, blueberry if the stain at his muzzle is anything to go by, and casually raises it up and down as he waits on the four. Rainbow Dash almost can’t breathe, and if he asked, she would devour that pie, no matter how long she would have to fly to work it off.

“Begin,” he says, clicking a stopwatch, then goes back to munching.

Rainbow Dash flips the page, and her eyes go wide at the first question, just a single line while the rest of the page is mercifully blank: Describe, in your own words, the components of an inverted corkscrew maneuver, and how you would incorporate adding a second pony flying wingtip to wingtip.

She grins as her wing lifts the blue and yellow lightning bolt themed pencil.

Perhaps an hour later, Captain Spitfire watches the sixteenth and final recruit fly one unimpressive loop after another. At least Wind Waker’s fundamentals are good, and she wouldn’t need to waste a lot of time retraining bad habits. Speed is reasonable, and he might turn into something impressive, given time. No hotshot, but not everypony could be, and they need instructors.

A blood red pegasus trots up to her, and she’s almost grateful for the interruption. As soon as Wind Waker finishes and is sent off to rest until the afternoon she turns to M. D. Vac. “Yeah?”

“One of ze results,” the medic coolly replies, a wing holding up a single sheet of paper.

Captain Spitfire’s eyes narrow at the large purple ‘x’ stamped across the top. She reads the first two lines, muzzle furrowing to a deep scowl. It’s not that she hates icing recruits, not when they deserve it. But this? Unacceptable.

“Proof?” she demands coldly. It’s always worrying when she doesn’t burn hot. “Where’s the rest?”

“Waiting in your office,” M. D. Vac calmly replies, turning in that direction.

Captain Spitfire snaps out to Fast Clip as she leads the way, the white pegasus already in the air, “Get me Sight Seer.”

She turns to Whiplash. He gulps, knowing what is coming. “Five minutes, then get me Rainbow Dash.”

Next Chapter: Ch. 69 - Mutewind Whispersteps Estimated time remaining: 6 Hours, 35 Minutes