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Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
400–750
What More Can I Give?
Three silhouettes of Wonderbolts rolled into the last standing room in the ruins of Carousel boutique, inching the door closed behind them. Fleetfoot snuck across the small room to the chest containing a set of overfilled saddlebags and began to remove them with utmost care.
“I wonder what your old friend would think if she knew we were here, using her home as a bomb storage unit to take down the oppressive reign of your other friend’s daughter,” said Soarin who was still sitting with his back pressed against the door. He slouched a little and closed his eyes after removing his goggles. He pulled out a cigarette out of his suit and started to chew it but did not dare to light it up.
The last of the trio, Rainbow Dash, answered, “She would probably ask if we could use Sugar Cube Corner instead. She would hate to see the last of this place go down accidentally.” Rainbow Dash took a seat next to Soarin, also taking off her goggles, and glanced out the window past the slums of days gone by to Ponyville Palace and the armies of “guardians” circling it. She had to admit it was still a sight to behold in the moonlight. “Man, I can’t believe that I’m still a Wonderbolt with with my gray mane.” She cracked a smile.
Fleetfoot took a brief rest to poof her hair. “One advantage of a white mane from birth.”
Rainbow Dash kept talking. “I guess the current team has to use us old coots for something.”
“Still,” said Soarin. “I remember when Ponyville Palace was first grown. It was a beacon of hope and goodwill for everypony. Now it’s just a cruel symbol of the oppression the average pony goes through. Call me old-fashioned, but I liked the last way better.”
“My old friend Applejack would take this moment to say that the apple doesn’t normally fall this far from the tree.”
“Literally speaking, she hasn’t fallen yet,” replied Soarin. “But I guess ‘Princess’ wasn’t enough for little ‘Queen’ Glistening Dew.” Fleetfoot finished extracting the bombs from the chest and the three stopped talking to return thoughts on the task ahead. She took a seat at the window and blew some air onto it. She then used her hoof to draw a smiley face. Rainbow’s left hind-leg began to quiver, but Soarin extended his hoof out and rested it on her leg.
“It’s okay if you’re not ready. None of us can be for this,” he whispered into her ear. Fleetfoot glanced over at the couple before returning her gaze to the sky to await the flare. Even under Soarin’s reassuring hoof, Rainbow’s leg could not remain docile for long.
“Think of what everyone else has done. Your old friends. Twilight, Applejack, Rarity. Do it for them. Do it for Spitfire.” Rainbow cringed away, remembering the horrifying sight of Spitfire being shot down out of the air by Glistening Dew herself. She swallowed hard, then wiggled her body up close to Soarin, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. This will be an awesome way to die.”
“One they’ll always remember you for,” chipped in Fleetfoot moderately dryly, not averting her gaze.
“One of us just needs to hit the stump and boom!” said Soarin. “It’s over, our job is complete.” He paused, then opened his mouth again. “It’s a shame what this regime has taken from us.”
A bright light filled the room making it impossible to see for a split second. “That’s it!” exclaimed Fleetfoot in a low voice. “Time to strap up and move!” Soarin and Rainbow jumped up, reapplied their goggles, and latched the saddlebags to their sides. They all nodded to each other before Fleetfoot dashed out the window leaving Rainbow Dash and Soarin with the door.
Even with the nervousness rushing in her veins, Rainbow Dash wished she could do more. She recalled Spitfire’s death again in her mind, but then snapped her attention back to her flying. As the first guardian noticed her, her mind clicked into place. “I am giving enough. After all, what more can I give?”
“I wonder what your old friend would think if she knew we were here, using her home as a bomb storage unit to take down the oppressive reign of your other friend’s daughter,” said Soarin who was still sitting with his back pressed against the door. He slouched a little and closed his eyes after removing his goggles. He pulled out a cigarette out of his suit and started to chew it but did not dare to light it up.
The last of the trio, Rainbow Dash, answered, “She would probably ask if we could use Sugar Cube Corner instead. She would hate to see the last of this place go down accidentally.” Rainbow Dash took a seat next to Soarin, also taking off her goggles, and glanced out the window past the slums of days gone by to Ponyville Palace and the armies of “guardians” circling it. She had to admit it was still a sight to behold in the moonlight. “Man, I can’t believe that I’m still a Wonderbolt with with my gray mane.” She cracked a smile.
Fleetfoot took a brief rest to poof her hair. “One advantage of a white mane from birth.”
Rainbow Dash kept talking. “I guess the current team has to use us old coots for something.”
“Still,” said Soarin. “I remember when Ponyville Palace was first grown. It was a beacon of hope and goodwill for everypony. Now it’s just a cruel symbol of the oppression the average pony goes through. Call me old-fashioned, but I liked the last way better.”
“My old friend Applejack would take this moment to say that the apple doesn’t normally fall this far from the tree.”
“Literally speaking, she hasn’t fallen yet,” replied Soarin. “But I guess ‘Princess’ wasn’t enough for little ‘Queen’ Glistening Dew.” Fleetfoot finished extracting the bombs from the chest and the three stopped talking to return thoughts on the task ahead. She took a seat at the window and blew some air onto it. She then used her hoof to draw a smiley face. Rainbow’s left hind-leg began to quiver, but Soarin extended his hoof out and rested it on her leg.
“It’s okay if you’re not ready. None of us can be for this,” he whispered into her ear. Fleetfoot glanced over at the couple before returning her gaze to the sky to await the flare. Even under Soarin’s reassuring hoof, Rainbow’s leg could not remain docile for long.
“Think of what everyone else has done. Your old friends. Twilight, Applejack, Rarity. Do it for them. Do it for Spitfire.” Rainbow cringed away, remembering the horrifying sight of Spitfire being shot down out of the air by Glistening Dew herself. She swallowed hard, then wiggled her body up close to Soarin, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. This will be an awesome way to die.”
“One they’ll always remember you for,” chipped in Fleetfoot moderately dryly, not averting her gaze.
“One of us just needs to hit the stump and boom!” said Soarin. “It’s over, our job is complete.” He paused, then opened his mouth again. “It’s a shame what this regime has taken from us.”
A bright light filled the room making it impossible to see for a split second. “That’s it!” exclaimed Fleetfoot in a low voice. “Time to strap up and move!” Soarin and Rainbow jumped up, reapplied their goggles, and latched the saddlebags to their sides. They all nodded to each other before Fleetfoot dashed out the window leaving Rainbow Dash and Soarin with the door.
Even with the nervousness rushing in her veins, Rainbow Dash wished she could do more. She recalled Spitfire’s death again in her mind, but then snapped her attention back to her flying. As the first guardian noticed her, her mind clicked into place. “I am giving enough. After all, what more can I give?”