In the end, Gavian’s duel did wonders for both his standing among the soldiers of Epsilon and his own self-esteem, leaving me reflecting that no matter how aghast and afraid I was for him at the time, he’d been correct to offer a death duel—by risking his life, he’d made it far more worthy in the eyes of the ponies he lived among, and even, in the end, broke through to Osprey when neither I nor anypony else could.
He carried himself with far more confidence and even started participating in sparring matches with soldiers, much more friendly than the one he’d fought with the Flight Sergeant, who, to her credit, kept her side of the bargain.
She formally apologized to me a few days later, offering herself up for the training alongside Gavian as per the terms he’d set. ’Twould not be true to say they became fast friends, but she did slowly warm up to him much as the rest of us already had, though methinks Fell Flight did make her pay back the slur against her thestral blood by giving her potato-peeling duties for a week.
As the months passed, his language skills steadily improved; by summer he was well-along in schooling and speaking Equish surprisingly well. Things were in fact going quite well overall by then, as my battalion won several readiness awards and did superbly at the intradivisional exercises Sirocco and Sundiver had scheduled, leaving the pair contemplating applying my intense training regimen division-wide.
The border remained very quiet as well, neither gryphon regular or irregular forces anywhere in sight, though we had no idea of what was already in motion, Imperial plans ahoof that would reach fruition with surprising speed…
’Twas rare that a Red Talon warrior such as I could be frightened of anything. I had faced down much over my long career, and indeed, fought many a formidable foe, including at least one member of the race whose audience I now sought. But the Prelate’s newest instructions were… daunting, even to one such as I.
As my future friend and rival readied her adoptive son to fight his first battle—and I wish it said here and now that I would test him myself one day and find him a very worthy warrior—I was nearing my destination. My journey had taken me far from home, and through some occasionally unfriendly lands.
Though our nations maintained an uneasy truce and some trade was conducted, the Kingdom of Saddle Arabia had little love for the Empire or Gryphons, maintaining a formidable force on our southern flank that we skirmished with now and again, fighting border battles with their vassal states, which included the lands of Graze, Steedgypt and the Ottomares.
In the end, though we disliked each other intensely, trade was simply too lucrative; we needed each other’s resources and an occasional squabble over disputed borders was considered a small price to pay to maintain it. That border was also the gateway to my destination, and I needed passage in a manner that would go unnoticed; a Red Talon in full regalia simply attracted too much attention and word might get back to the ponies, even if the Saddle Arabians disdained them in some ways even more than us. Thus, I had cleansed myself of Talaeus fur dye and taken the temporary guise of a merchant, one trafficking in rare gems and seeking passage to the far east.
’Twas not to say it made things any easier or safer for me. Not long after arriving I had to fight a duel with a large Hussar, a Saddle Arabian soldier on par with one of our Fortis Knights after he accused me of cheating him in a game of chance, and I later put down a group of zebra brigands who thought to rob and kill me.
The former I defeated but spared, showing him honor for simply showing some genuine skill and lasting nearly half a minute against me, but none of the latter lived long enough to regret it despite their rhyming speech and alchemic weapons. “Easy prey ’tis what we sought! But ’tis not a merchant we just fought!” their leader exclaimed in panic as I cornered her, having already witnessed me kill the rest of her gang with my bare talons.
“No,” I confirmed, drawing and flashing my prized red-striped and onyx-hilted Talaeus blade at her to show her what I was… just before I slew her with it and set her pet manticore free, availing myself of some of her purloined riches.
In the end, they and my merchant gems bought me passage on a sand skiff that quickly traversed the dunes and long arid stretches of the kingdom, leaving me somewhat amazed that the proud and imposing Saddle Arabians had carved a civilization from such inhospitable lands: ornately carved kasbah fortresses overlooking the few patches of farmland available from irrigation, to the multicolored sea of tents at the marketplace, hosting merchants and goods from the far corners of Tellus, all built alongside shimmering desert oases. ’Twas a feat even a gryphon such as myself could respect, and thus I afforded them more honor than I did the ponies at that moment in time.
But after a week of travel, the desert ran out and their diffuse eastern borders were reached. The lands past it were wild and its denizens dangerous, so the final five hundred leagues I had to traverse myself, the land growing ever-more harsh and hostile as I went, forcing me to keep my sleep light and my blades at constant ready. But as I arrived at my destination six weeks after departure and saw the first members of the race I would be attempting to enlist aid from, my insides could not help but clench.
Despite my careful preparations, ’twas still utter madness to draw attention to myself but I did so, calling to them and offering a hidden cache of gems if they would take me to their lord and master. In truth, despite my bribe, methinks ’twas only for sheer amusement that they did so, one simply saying they would spare me only because they very much wanted to see what their master would do with me.
Still, I had a mission, and ’twas the most critical one imaginable to the Prelate’s plans. Whether they were genius or madness I admit I had some grave moments of doubt as I was led into an inner sanctum and brought before their leader. He sat high on his throne of riches, regarding me with open disdain even as I knelt and offered him the rarest of gems as a token, asking me why he should not simply slay me outright and take my proffered treasure from my worthless corpse.
In response, I could only bow low. “Because My Empress offers you the greatest of tributes, ancient and noble one, including an opportunity for vengeance and treasure far dwarfing this if you wouldst but aid us in our hour of need…”
Your contribution is always appreciated, Ambassador Kaval. In truth, I do not know if I could have done what you did on that day. Your bravery and sense of duty do you great credit as always, even if they were being used against Equestria at that moment.
Still, as I read your passage, I reflect how alike we are in one other important sense. Pomp and circumstance has never appealed to me any more than you; I was bored by it as a foal, and as a mare, I considered it unnecessary if not outright burdensome. Still, there were occasions before and even during the war when I would be required to attend some manner of formal function. What follows is a recounting of one such instance, during the period between the last raid on Epsilon and the outbreak of war, two months following Gavian’s first duel… and less than three before the invasion began.
* * * * *
“Enlighten me; why must I be in attendance?” I asked Fell Flight plaintively as I pulled on my formal uniform, a naval transport docked outside with its unicorn airedale already waiting to take me to the Equestrian Army base at Maresk.
“This is a social gathering of military ponies from across Equestria, as is tradition for the Summer Sun Celebration,” she reminded me, assisting me in attaching my medals and fixing my sash. “Its location rotates between the services yearly, and this time it belongs to the Equestrian Army. As the esteemed commander of one of Equestria’s premiere border outposts, you have the distinct privilege and pleasure of being able to attend,” she informed me, the barest hint of irony in her voice.
“And besides, if you don’t show up, ’twould reflect poorly on you and your base. And we can’t have that, can we?” she asked in perfect earnestness, making me think she was enjoying this a little too much.
“And you can’t go in my stead because…?” I pressed, not looking forward to the evening. I’d already removed my fur dye for the occasion, as ’twas traditional that military ponies show their true coat colors and cutie marks whilst wearing formal attire, not the colors of their respective services.
“Because I am but your humble second,” she replied easily, though her grin betrayed her relief. “Because whilst you’re gone, somepony has to look after Gavian and the outpost. And because the last time I went to such an affair whilst operations officer of Outpost Omega, I got into a fight with several Gamma Army soldiers and embarrassed their commander by beating them all,” she told me with a growing grin.
I sighed in disgust. I knew she was right, but still, ’twas not an event I was looking forward to for the large number of fawning nobles and cake-eating civilians I was likely to encounter. “Nothing for it, I suppose. ’Tis just one more ‘duty’ of being a commander that Sundiver neglected to tell me about.”
“Well, you are not going alone,” Fell Flight reminded me, smiling as she stepped back to inspect my appearance. “’Twould not do, after all, for a Guardspony of your rank and stature to appear without escort. Therefore, your new adjutant will be going with you,” she said with a nod behind her as the clopping of hooves announced her arrival.
I turned and started to see said adjutant in the formal deep blue and silver dress uniform of the Corps without white fur and blue mane dye, her mane a brilliant yellow and coat a fiery red as I never imagined them to be. After returning from leave, Blindside had quickly assumed a place at my left hoof, filing reports with a quick and practiced quill. I eventually named her my aide and adjutant, much to her surprise, along with promoting her to Sergeant, elevating Private Shrike to squad leader and Corporal in her place.
“Commander,” she acknowledged my stare with a grin and what might have been a hint of color in her cheeks; in truth, ’twas hard to tell against the backdrop of red fur. “Methinks I had nary any idea of your true colors either, ma’am. But ’tis certain they suit you. ’Tis my honor and pleasure to accompany you.” She grinned and sketched a bow, her good eye flickering to my two-bolt cutie mark and cataloging it, perchance wondering what it meant.
“Your company is appreciated, Sergeant,” I replied, noting her own eyepatch-and-wings cutie mark and thinking how much it suited her as well. “Though methinks you seem strangely eager to attend?” I raised an eyeridge at her.
It might have been my imagination, but her gaze seemed to go furtive for just a moment. “Indeed I am. For I have learned that my mother will be there, ma’am,” she told me. “’Twould seem her tea was well-received at a military ball held in Cloudsdale over the winter holidays, and she was then invited to help cater this affair. I very much look forward to seeing her,” she told me, finishing her explanation with what almost seemed relief.
“Truly? I am glad for you, then. For I have received word that my own mother will be there as well,” I smiled, having gotten late word from Silent Night by private courier that she would be attending in the guise of a retired Corps soldier to provide undercover security, though she would not be available to talk during most of it for that very reason. “I will also look forward to meeting yours, even if I am not looking forward to suffering through stuffy speeches and endless toasts.”
Fell Flight gave me a grin. “’Tis not just that, ma’am. For there is also hobnobbing and brownnosing to say nothing of paying homage to endless nobles. And best of all, the ball goes all night and does not end until the rising of the sun!” she told me in no small amount of glee.
I gave her a lethal look back as even Blindside grimaced. “Methinks you will not escape this duty next time, Sergeant First Class,” I informed her.
“Be that as it may, I am free of it for now, ma’am. But perchance you could simply start a fight as I did to escape early?” she suggested in only half-jest, eliciting a chuckle from both of us.
’Twas but an idle thought, and not something I would have actually considered no matter how tempted. But methinks neither I nor Blindside had any idea that by night’s end, it might actually come to pass.
Greetings, one and all. I am Blindside, and my Captain has pointed out to me that, up until now, I have not contributed that much to this recounting of events. ’Tis not because I have little to offer, nor because I have not been asked before. ’Tis simply that I am content with what I have and have little wish to draw attention to myself.
I am proud of my accomplishments, to be certain, but I am not one to boast; I have always been a mare who believes that a pony’s actions speak far louder than their words. For that reason, I have been content to let my service record speak for me, and my Captain speak for all of us.
Still, methinks I will indulge her and take the quill for now, as there were events that took place during that ball she remains unaware of to this day. I would normally not be inclined to share such events, particularly some that might be slightly more revealing about certain matters than I wish, but my Captain persuaded me that nothing I share could possibly come back to haunt me. I will trust her judgement on this, as I have many times before.
Our arrival at the base at Maresk was met with no little fanfare. As we were announced to the gathering to great acclaim—’twould seem my future captain’s fame preceded her, even then—a cyan-coated stallion with a white mane approached, once the nobles had their turn. He wore the formal white dress uniform of the Royal Navy, the silver leaf of a Commander visible on his shoulders, and his right wing was held at an odd angle to his body. “There you are, Firefly!” he greeted, with little regard for formality.
I was about to address him for his lack of respect, when Firefly showed there was no need, her face breaking out into an expression of surprise and delight. “Father!” she exclaimed, embracing him to my great surprise. “I knew Mother was coming, but I had no idea you wouldst be, as well!”
The stallion’s expression was wry as he returned the embrace. “Well, a contingent from the Royal Navy was required to attend, and Admiral Coral Torch suggested it include at least one high-ranking officer from our battle group. Captain Shady had little interest in the affair herself, so methinks I was more than happy to come in her place… if it meant a chance to see you! I hope you wouldst forgive me for keeping it a surprise!”
“I couldn’t be happier, Father!” Firefly assured him, giving him a belated salute. She then motioned to me. “Father, this is Sergeant Blindside of the Aerial Corps; she is my adjutant at Outpost Epsilon. Blindside, this is my father, Commander Tailwind. He’s the first officer of the EAS Loyalty.”
I saluted him as was appropriate, then bowed before him as was also expected for a formal affair. “’Tis an honor and pleasure to meet you, sir. Your daughter is a fine Guardspony and commander. ’Tis my honor to serve under her.”
“Likewise, Sergeant,” he replied, returning the gesture, his eyes lingering only a moment on my patch. “Methinks you’ve done well to make it so far. I certainly understand how hard it can be to overcome such a… potential disability as yours.” He glanced at his crippled wing in some sadness as he spoke. “’Tis an impressive feat. Your parents must be very proud of you.”
I hid my wince as best I could. “My mother is quite proud of me, yes,” I told him, casting my eye about for her but not immediately seeing her. I pointedly didn’t mention my father, and thankfully neither Firefly nor Tailwind asked. Then again, I wasn’t about to give them the chance, quickly shifting the subject. “And I believe you said your own wouldst be here as well, ma’am?” I addressed Firefly.
“Indeed she is,” a mare’s voice spoke softly from directly behind us, causing us all to jump.
“Mother!” Firefly greeted her with a salute followed by a hug as the newcomer revealed herself to be another Corps member in formal dress blue uniform, an older but surprisingly trim-looking mare wearing a dozen medals and the stripes of a Sky Sergeant. I hadn’t sensed her approach at all, which was more than a bit disconcerting; just how had she evaded my awareness?
Still, a superior officer was present, so I saluted her as well. “Ma’am, Sergeant Blindside, adjutant to Outpost Epsilon’s commanding officer.”
She did me the courtesy of returning the salute. “Sky Sergeant Silent Night, currently part of the active reserve…” She peered hard at me, and I gained the distinct impression she was seeing far more than just my appearance. Whatever she saw, she seemed satisfied as she leaned in closer. “… and a former member of the Black Lances,” she told me as my commander and her father grinned, watching my reaction closely.
That sibilant whisper sent a chill down my spine. I knew of the Lances by reputation, of course. Officially, they were a branch of the Aerial Corps that did more covert work than overt, and I had increasing cause to believe that Corporal Zephyr might actually be one given how much time he seemed to spend with my commander and her gryphon charge, far more than ’twould seem a simple logistics liaison would require.
Unofficially, they were more akin to a combat arm of the EIS who dealt with all manner of nasty business; methinks I suddenly understood why my commander had come back so badly beaten two months earlier! “And… might I ask why you’re telling me such… sensitive information?” I regarded her with some wariness, sparing an immensely amused Firefly a glance as well. Was she in on this…?
Her mother grinned like she was used to my reaction. “Two reasons, Sergeant. One, I know that you are a mare of integrity, thanks to my daughter’s stories of what has happened at Epsilon. She has spoken to me of you repeatedly, saying you are quite smart and a superb flyer despite your lack of depth perception,” she told me, causing a hint of color to enter my cheeks.
“And two, you have been observed during your stay at Epsilon. It has been noted that you have turned your lack of one eye to your advantage by developing superb awareness of your environment using your other senses, able to not only easily navigate obstacle courses, but dodge blades and crossbow bolts almost effortlessly. Such qualities are rare, and for them we believe you wouldst make a fine Lance… if given the opportunity,” she replied with an arched eyeridge.
“She spoke to me of this in a private letter, Sergeant,” Firefly told me. “The Lances do indeed wish to recruit you, and I cannot but agree you wouldst make an excellent addition to their ranks. I would be sorry to lose your practiced pen and one of my finest soldiers, of course, but I would not stand in your way if you wish to avail yourself of this offer. Methinks I will leave you two alone to discuss its terms privately. But be assured the choice is entirely yours, and that there is no penalty for declining,” she told me, going off with her father again, the pair seemingly sharing a laugh at my expense.
I stood stunned as I watched her leave, my mouth agape and mind awhirl. The thought itself was enough to give great pause—me, becoming one of our most elite and dangerous warriors by joining the most mysterious military unit we had? What would it mean? And more importantly, what would I have to give up?
’Twas the latter thought that gave me the most pause before replying, suddenly thinking of my mother, to say nothing of… “Apologies, ma’am, but for now, l do not believe the Lances are for me. I am satisfied with my station and believe my place is in the Corps proper… by my commander’s side.” I looked at Firefly, who was now engaged in conversation with her father and several other officers at that point.
Silent Night looked between her and I, before gaining a most mischievous grin. “Well, you may lack one of your eyes, but ’twould seem you certainly have an eye for beauty.”
My already red coat darkened further at the implications of that statement, one that echoed certain… thoughts I’d been having more and more frequently of late, ones not entirely welcome since ’twas certain to me there was little chance they could ever be indulged. “Ma’am, I’m not certain what you’re referring to…”
She giggled—outright giggled—before continuing. “Why so flustered, Sergeant? ’Tis not like I was saying something indecent. For as fine a fighter as my daughter is, I simply feel it would be good for her to be a bit more… socially rounded, shall we say. And perchance she just needs the proper partner to do so.”
She gave me a parting wink before stepping away, catching Firefly’s attention whilst I struggled frantically to hide my now-very fierce blush, which I feared would be visible even against the backdrop of red fur. “But that is between the two of you. You likewise do not have to decide on my offer right away, Sergeant. It remains open until such time as you see fit to take it, whether that is next week or never. In the meantime, methinks I should be getting back to my security post. I will see you after the ball concludes, my daughter,” she said with a parting wink to me and a short bow to Firefly as she neared.
“Of course, Mother,” Firefly said with a nod and bow back as Silent Night departed, leaving me beside her daughter and praying she didn’t look at my hot cheeks too closely.
Tailwind watched her leave as well, then turned back to Firefly. “Well now. As we are here, we should participate properly. Will you grant me the distinct pleasure of a dance, my daughter?” He offered her a hoof.
To this day, I believe myself along with Tailwind are the only two ponies to ever see an expression of outright terror on Firefly’s face. “Um… er… I, ah…” she stuttered, which caused me to arch an eyeridge. “That is, I…”
“Is there something wrong, commander?” I asked, tilting my head whilst struggling to recover my lost bearings.
“It’s, ah… that is to say…” Firefly’s stutter was not improving at all.
“Firefly? Are you—?” Tailwind began, giving his adopted daughter a sideways look.
“Idon’tknowhowtodance!” she blurted out, all but cringing.
Both Tailwind and I blinked, exchanging looks. “I beg your pardon?” I asked for both of us.
Firefly took a breath. “Father, I… I don’t… know… how to dance,” she said far more slowly.
There was a moment of silence from all of us before Tailwind scoffed. “Is that all? That’s easily remedied, my daughter! Methinks I’ll be more than happy to teach you!” Not waiting for an answer, he grabbed her hoof and began dragging her off towards the dance floor, leaving me mentally kicking myself for not offering the invitation myself.
“But… but…” Firefly’s protests were drowned out as despite my disappointment I couldn’t help but chuckle at her misfortune, watching as my commander was forced to face the one fight she was not prepared for in the least. Still, as her adjutant, I had to keep her in sight until we reached our destination, so I followed the two inside to the base’s grand hall, which was where the majority of the ball was being hosted.
After Firefly seemed settled, I availed myself of the opportunity to find and greet my mother, and then spent some time mingling, seeking distraction from multiple chains of thought that simply would not quiet after my talk with the Sky Sergeant. I was even asked to dance myself by a few ponies that weren’t put off by my eyepatch. Unlike my future captain, I did know how to dance; part of my physical training for the Corps included a dance class I attended, for added grace and dexterity. And indeed, several stallions—and even a few mares—complimented me for my flair on the dance floor.
At least one of the latter outright propositioned me, but I declined, not wanting to leave my future Captain’s side, especially not when my thoughts were suddenly of her. ’Twas slightly comical to see her so clumsy and awkward given her usual grace and skill in combat—’twas certain I’d never seen a more natural warrior or leader than her—but under her father’s patient tutelage, she was at least performing passably after the first hour.
Still, after ten dances with mares and stallions alike—we as a species see nothing wrong with intra-gender socializing like this—I was getting a bit tired of the dance floor, and so made my way towards the refreshments table, begging off one more hopeful dance partner on the way. I had a secondary purpose in heading for that table; I had not seen my mother since the ball began, and was curious to see how she was doing, surrounded by military top brass.
I confess, however, that my expectations for her current status did not include her indulging in an argument with an Aerial Corps officer I’d never seen before, a burgundy stallion with orange mane who wore the twin silver bars of a captain on either side of his collar. My mother, Sweet Leaf, was not one to raise her voice. Nor was she one to threaten violence, yet her stance and tone regarding the officer before her indicated that she was well prepared to do both. Not wishing her to be hurt in any way, I quickly stepped up next to her. “Mother, is there a problem?”
Before she could answer, the captain saw me and spoke. “‘Mother?’” He peered at me closely, almost immediately locking on to my patch. “I see… so this is what’s become of you, Fireball.”
I started; very few ponies knew my birth name. “How do…?”
“My daughter,” Mother broke in, her voice tense and manner extremely agitated, “allow me to introduce Captain Monsoon of the Aerial Corps’ 2nd division. He’s currently in charge of overseeing the border with the Diamond Dogs… and I used to be a member of his herd.”
I wasn’t made Firefly’s adjutant for being slow-witted; I immediately recognized the clue I’d been given, staring at the stallion and noting a sudden resemblance. “Then… he is…?”
“Yes. He is your father,” she said shortly, and none too happily.
Monsoon snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. I may have sired her, but Fireball is no daughter of mine! And I cannot help but wonder how it is that she is here.”
I narrowed my visible eye, my earlier thoughts of Firefly abruptly forgotten. I’d dreamed of this day in the past, but never imagined it would come to pass here! “My name is now Blindside, sir. And I will have you know I am here as the adjutant to Outpost Epsilon’s commander.”
“Hah! A grand jest,” he laughed, much to my irritation. “I am bewildered that a half-blind cripple such as yourself would ever be accepted into the Corps, much less make Sergeant.”
There was a growing circle of silence around us as more and more ponies turned to regard us; Monsoon wasn’t exactly being quiet and didn’t seem to care in the least about it. I was beyond caring about it myself at that moment, though; I was too busy seeing red. “Then perchance, Father—” I dripped scorn on the title “—you wouldst care to test my mettle yourself, and see how I rate my rank?”
He snorted again, looking more annoyed than amused. “Do not be so gauche, Sergeant. The Summer Sun Celebration is hardly the time or place for a duel. And even if circumstances were more permitting, you are not worth my time. I would hardly wish to debase myself by humiliating somepony with such a distinct disadvantage.”
My teeth gnashed as I fought to remain calm; I hadn’t been this angry since that fateful night at Epsilon that had claimed the lives of so many. My mind instantly flashed back to my bloodstained blades and the moments I took the lives of two raiders; I was suddenly tempted to publicly accept the offer to join the Lances just so I could show him how wrong he was.
“My… unique trait is hardly a disadvantage, sir. It may interest you to know that I have seen combat on the border already. Outpost Epsilon was the target of two raids not that long ago, and I was instrumental in thwarting the gryphons’ schemes.” I tapped the Wing Warrior badge on my chest.
“Congratulations,” he drawled, waving a hoof in dismissal. “You thwarted raids on the most backwater base the Corps runs. What, were the gryphons throwing stones, and you threw them back?”
Now I was angrier than I had been that night; ’twas one thing to be in the heat of the moment, with a clear enemy to fight, but this… stallion was dismissing all my accomplishments and all that had happened with a look of contempt on his face. Instead of pouncing on him as I so desired to do, I reined in my rapidly growing ire and regarded him coolly. “You haven’t heard the details? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised; guarding the Diamond Dog border must mean the Corps top brass doesn’t believe you need to know about important skirmishes along the gryphon frontier.”
That got his attention, as he fixed me with a glower, even as the circle of silence surrounding us grew. “Watch yourself, Sergeant; you are far from invincible, no matter what delusions you’ve suffered at Epsilon. And I am far too busy guarding my own border to worry about affairs on other fronts.”
“Yes, because watching an opponent that spends the majority of time underground must be exhausting,” I drawled in a direct mockery of his earlier tone; even Mother smiled at that one.
He growled at that, and stepped forward. “Mayhap I will reconsider your earlier request, Sergeant. I’m certain we can find some wingblades somewhere for a proper duel.”
I was all too ready to accept, but a new voice broke in. “Ah! Sergeant Blindside!” Glancing back, I saw Captain Sirocco approaching, her expression going dark as she saw her second division counterpart. “I see you’ve met Captain Monsoon. I hope I am not interrupting anything?” she asked as she looked between us.
“Nothing too important,” I answered, keeping my eye on Monsoon, who greeted Sirocco with narrowed eyes. “I was just relating the details of the raids on Epsilon. He seemed unaware of what we had gone through.”
“Truly?” Sirocco asked, giving Monsoon a gimlet eye. “How strange; I know I sent reports of what happened to the other division commanders, as well as Corps Headquarters.”
“Indeed. And some of those reports I helped write myself,” I mused. “But perchance we should give him the benefit of the doubt, Captain. After all, he was just saying how tiring it was guarding the Diamond Dog border. So much so, in fact, that he didn’t have time to read reports from the other fronts.” I shook my head in mock sympathy. “If guarding our borders is so exhausting to him, perchance he deserves a break from the front lines?”
“Perchance you are right,” Sirocco agreed, appearing to have no more use for him than I did; judging by their mutual glares there was clearly some history between them. “If he feels his duties are beneath him, I will be more than happy to make a recommendation to General Fairweather that Captain Monsoon be recalled to Canterlot for a desk position, and another Captain sent in his place. I do believe Captain Starblaze has been languishing at headquarters, wanting a front line post for many months.” She took on a sly, yet mocking grin.
“Is that so?” Monsoon asked, sneering. “Then ’twould seem you both misunderstand me. I read the reports and found them a sad litany of errors in judgment and failure of leadership from Epsilon on up. Truly, the 5th Division has fallen far under your command, Captain.”
This time, it was Sirocco’s eyes that narrowed. “Truly?” Mother said blandly, heading off what was certain to be a very heated response. “I was right here the whole time, and I seem to recall you dismissed her claims of thwarting two raids with an absolutely appalling analogy. What was it, again? ‘Were the gryphons throwing stones, and you threw them back?’”
The glare Sirocco gave Monsoon at that should have ignited his coat, by all rights. “I retract what I said before; my recommendation will be that Captain Monsoon be immediately relieved of his command and rank, given his blatant disrespect towards his fellow Corps members.”
Unintimidated, Monsoon returned Sirocco’s glare with equal heat. “And mine will be to have you relieved for gross incompetence and slackening of Corps standards for allowing an outpost to be twice ambushed, to say nothing of giving command to a hatchling guardsmare whose actions endangered her base!”
’Twas then that our activities finally caught the attention of Firefly herself, who immediately trotted over, her father close behind. “Greetings, ma’am,” she saluted Sirocco, who gave her a perfunctory one back. “Is there a problem here?” she looked from me to my father, recognizing raised hackles and twitching wings.
“Commander, may I introduce my mother, Sweet Leaf. And this is Captain Monsoon, the stallion I just now learned was my sire…” I said through clenched teeth, wondering if I was going to be able to stop myself from assaulting both a stallion and a superior officer, or if an increasingly livid Captain Sirocco would save me the trouble.
“Ah, so this is your commander? The famous Firefly?” he asked, looking her over from head to toe and appearing less than impressed. “’Twould appear the Equestrian military is losing its high standards then, when mares enter the Guard and cripples join the Corps!”
My future Captain’s manner instantly went ice cold. “With all due respect, sir, my armor was earned and the medals I wear were paid for in blood. ’Tis no less true for my adjutant, who has earned her place at my side. You wouldst do well to not disrespect her, for by doing so, you disrespect me.”
“Oh, good, I was worried I was being too subtle,” Monsoon replied. “Outpost Epsilon is a Corps border base, not some playground for a hatchling Guardsmare who hasn’t the slightest clue how to lead!”
Firefly herself looked ready to forgo both a duel and wingblades in order to beat Monsoon to within an inch of his life with her bare hooves right then and there, but a new voice stopped her. “Now, now, this is supposed to be a happy affair, fellow soldiers of Equestria. So what is all the fuss about?” Approaching was a mare with a cloud-grey coat paired with brilliant yellow mane and tail, her flank adorned with a cirrus cloud cutie mark. I didn’t recognize her on sight, but the four stars on her shoulders were a clue to her identity, to say nothing of her entourage of guards and nobles.
Everypony present immediately came to rigid attention and saluted sharply. “General Fairweather!” Sirocco exclaimed. “I had no idea you were attending personally!”
“’Tis tradition for at least one service head to attend the Summer Sun Military Ball,” Fairweather noted, her reputation for cool temperament and somewhat dry wit already in evidence. ’Twas said she’d taken over the Corps under a bit of a cloud, given the slightly mysterious circumstances that had accompanied the sudden resignation of her occasionally outspoken and often controversial predecessor, the now-retired General Squall Line. “Now, then, as I asked, what seems to be the problem over here?”
Monsoon was quick to speak up. “General Fairweather, I must regrettably call Captain Sirocco’s competence as a division leader into question,” he announced without any hint of regret at all.
I would not want to play cards against Fairweather; her face was perfectly blank. “’Tis a serious charge, Captain Monsoon. What reason do you have for doing so?”
“The incidents at Outpost Epsilon,” he replied smoothly. “Under Lieutenant Sundiver’s leadership, the outpost earned a reputation for being a safe haven for new recruits and young NCOs to earn their wings. Yet mere weeks into a new command, the base suffered heavy losses in a gryphon raid. ’Tis clear to me that Sergeant First Class Firefly was unfit for command when she had it forced upon her by Captain Sirocco. Thus they must share the blame for the loss of life!”
Both Sirocco and Firefly looked close to spitting nails; the latter’s teeth went clenched as I imagined she was forced to relive the agony of the losses we suffered and having to make her first kill. ‘Twas an agony I shared, and the guilt I still felt for enjoying my kills and forcing Firefly to make hers came back full force as well. “That is a gross misreading of what happened, sir,” Firefly snarled. “Had you read the report, you wouldst know our supposedly-secure communications were compromised during that incident, and we were deceived into sending half our force to a town that was not under threat after all.”
“And the fact that you could not see through such an obvious ruse merely proves my point about your fitness for command, or lack thereof,” Monsoon riposted, then turned to address Sirocco. “Never mind the fact that Sirocco not only retained you there, but indulged your desire to keep a pet gryphon and a half-breed thestral first officer. Such casual tolerance of such obvious security threats speak to your incompetence and utter unfitness for your post, Captain. One, I submit, should belong to a far more competent commander; one who brooks no failure and has exacting standards,” he finished, leaving no doubt he was asking for assignment to it himself.
“So exacting, you threw me and your daughter out of your herd for not meeting your standards!” Mother’s eyes were teary and her voice was barely below a shout; I immediately went to her side and placed my wing over her, glaring at my sire—I refused to grant him the dignity of ‘father’, even with my thoughts.
“No, I would have allowed you to stay if you put this half-blind cripple into an orphanage where she belonged!” he snarled, completely unrepentant. “All my offspring should follow in my wingbeats, but ’twas not possible for her! She was not worthy of either my name, or even the title of pegasus!” he told us both, causing my wings to flare hard in anger and my teeth to bare.
“Enough.” Events might have spun out of control then, but Fairweather held up a hoof, forestalling any objections or challenge that not just me, but my then or future Captains, might have made. “Your point is made plain, Captain Monsoon. ’Tis true that, during the incident in question, there was a great loss of life at Outpost Epsilon, and that there are certainly some… unusual arrangements in place since.” As Monsoon smirked at Sirocco, Fairweather continued. “However, those arrangements were in fact approved by no less than the princess herself, and the incidents in question were fully investigated by Corps command and all were found blameless. The gryphons resorted to a previously unseen tactic by compromising our command gems, one Sundiver himself said he would have fallen for.
“And since you mentioned him, you should know First Lieutenant Sundiver had nothing but praise for the performance of his former second, who has proven herself both a fine warrior and commander. I also note that Outpost Epsilon’s combat readiness has reached an all-time high in the five months since she took command, and I plan to visit her base myself when the ball is over to see her training regimens firsthoof,” she said with a nod at Firefly, whose anger gave way to surprise.
“You are, of course, welcome to your opinion of matters, but they do not match my own. The attacks were fully investigated by Corps Command, and having approved their final report as well as implemented its recommendations, as far as I am concerned, the matter is closed. Unless, of course, you are suggesting that I, too, am incompetent for concurring with the report’s conclusions… to say nothing of approving Sirocco’s recommendation to award Sergeant Firefly the Commander’s Cross?” she asked in a very mild tone. “For if you do, one wonders if you are less interested in your duty to protect Equestria then securing your own advancement at the expense of your fellow Captain.” She finished without ever raising her voice, though the implicit warning behind her words was heard loud and clear.
My revealed father paled for a moment, then worked up some more nerve. “And one then wonders if the rot of the Corps goes all the way to the top, ma’am. Under General Squall Line, heads would have rolled after that attack and ’tis certain he would never have rewarded those responsible with promotion or decoration! To say nothing of allowing unfit soldiers to serve!” He looked pointedly at me.
I was suddenly very glad Fell Flight was not present, having heard from her directly the story of how she earned her Sapphire Sentinel medal and all that happened in its aftermath. Never mind the slur against her thestral heritage, I could guess all too well the explosion that would result from the mere mention of Squall Line’s name. “If you think me unfit, sir, methinks I would be more than happy to show you my aerial skill,” I told him, amazed I could sound so calm given how irate I felt. Methinks ’twas only the presence of my mother that kept me from attacking this insulting stallion sooner, though the sheer serenity that the Corps Commander displayed in the face of said stallion probably also helped. Displays of temper could be contagious, but, so it would seem, could calmness… though apparently, even that only went so far.
“And methinks I would be hard pressed to find a reason to forbid it,” Fairweather agreed, ever-so-slightly arching an eyeridge. “’Twould seem to me the daughter you so callously discarded has every reason to demand satisfaction for that reason alone, never mind your insults of her today. So if you wish a duel, Sergeant… I will not disapprove it,” she told me, then stepped aside.
“As you wish! Well? So what will it be, whelp?” He asked me, now clearly trying to goad me, tossing his red mane and turning slightly sideways to show off his blade-gleam cutie mark. “If you think me soft, I suggest you think again. I have won many challenges and slain many a harpy and gryphon. So if you insist on a duel, I will be more than happy to give you one.”
I glanced at my mother, who shook her head, indicating she did not want me to fight him, and ’twas her wishes alone that ultimately swayed my decision. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eye, then opened it again. “No,” I told him. “As tempting as it might be, sir, you were correct earlier when you said ’twas neither the time nor place. I came here to accompany my commander and see the mother who raised me, not the sire who abandoned us both. You discarded me as worthless, and as such methinks I have nothing to say or prove to you,” I informed him. “In short, you are not worth my time... sir.” Dripping contempt on the title, I very deliberately turned my back in a show of extreme disrespect, causing him to all but hiss and take a step towards me.
“You show far more restraint than I would, Sergeant,” Firefly said in some wonder, quickly stepping between us and then staring down my sire herself. “Very well, then, Captain. I had thought to challenge you myself, but I will defer doing so to my adjutant, who ’twould seem has more right to decide such matters than me. And besides, ’tis certain just from looking at you I would not be tested,” she finished with a sneer.
“I could say the same for you, Guardsmare!” He dripped scorn on the title, causing narrowed eyes from her and several Armored Guardsponies in attendance. “Be assured I will accept your challenge at any time!”
“Well, then. As my subordinates have declined, I believe the job of putting you in your place then falls to me!” Sirocco announced, raising her voice for all to hear. “As you have questioned my command and demanded my post, ’tis only fitting if we determine if you are in fact worthy of it. So care to step outside, Captain Monsoon?”
He showed his teeth in return; the least I could say about him from all this was that he wasn’t a coward. “’Twould be my greatest pleasure. After you, Captain Sirocco…” he sketched her a bow and followed her out, half the gallery trailing.
* * * * *
As much as I would love to describe the duel that followed, one that I was told was a surprisingly savage but nearly even affair that ultimately ended in Sirocco’s victory, neither myself nor my commander witnessed it, deciding to stay with my now-crying mother.
“I am truly sorry for what happened, ma’am. You have raised a fine daughter and soldier, one I am honored to have under me,” Firefly told her, earning a few more sniffles in response. At any other point, I might have taken note of my commander’s favor, but ’twas simply not the time. She gave me leave to spend the rest of the night with my mother and I did not meet her again until the morning, when it was time to watch the sunrise and then return to Epsilon… In the company of not just one, but several honored guests. But that chapter of this tale I will leave to my Captain to tell.
Honored guests indeed! And indeed I will, though not just yet.
I thank you for relating this story, Blindside. Though I must say you were correct when you said it might reveal some surprising things—’tis certain I am more than a little shocked to find out what Mother said! She looked out for me in so many ways, but I had no idea that included identifying a mare who would one day become my lover and herdmate! But in fairness, perchance she saw before either of us truly did what might one day be, though ’twould be a very long time before it could happen. It strikes me now that none of the relationships I ever entered into were expected, yet somehow, looking back, they were all equally inevitable.
But that is a story for later. To this day, I remain impressed that you refrained from tearing that insulting stallion limb from limb, your mother’s presence or not. But as you say, ’tis always been your way to let your actions speak for you, and in the end, you were correct—you had nothing to prove to him, just as you by then had nothing to prove to me…
And nor, by the end of the war, did the gryphon who began as my bitterest rival… but whom I and all Equestria would one day call our greatest friend.
Thank you, Captain. Though there are times I am amazed I lived long enough for that to happen, no more so than when I departed the lands belonging to my rather unhumble and inhospitable hosts. My task was complete, and methinks I was never more relieved for a mission to be over as when I saw the tall spires and market tents of Saddle Arabia again.
Despite their threats and bluster, and despite the very real and frequent risk to my life my mere presence there presented, I had succeeded in negotiating the aid of our prospective allies over a period of two interminable weeks, negotiations that in the end boiled down to promises of rare riches and real revenge. I’d had to reveal a bit more about our plans than I or the Prelate would have liked, but ultimately I saw no danger they’d give up that information to the Equestrians or Celestia, who their leader already had ample reason to hate. He himself called the Prelate’s war plan ‘barely brilliant if appealingly bloody,’ but set some rather severe conditions for his aid… one of which was testing me in combat with three of his chosen champions, ordering me to first survive them and thus prove my race worthy of his help.
’Twas not easy but I did so, surprising him by wounding two. Satisfied with my efforts, he named his ultimate price for a pact. ’Twas far too high in my view, and I had no doubt the Empress would be less than pleased, but he had not lived so long without knowing when he had the advantage as he did here. He was fully aware of how desperately we needed his help, and thus demanded half the Empire’s treasury in addition to our original offer… as well as the right to dispose of Canterlot and Celestia as they saw fit once we had our victory.
In the end, with all his conditions acceded to, he granted us alliance… or so we hoped. “And how do we know you will keep your word?” I asked him at the end as he signed a document with a clawtip dipped in ink and gave me a very special gem to take back with me; one that would allow us to summon them when the time came.
“You do not,” he gave me a toothy grin that made me want to cringe to see the inside of his maw, for what I knew lay within. “It may yet please me more to let your invasion falter and Celestia burn your insignificant Empire to the ground so we may simply plunder your riches from its ruins.”
“If only you knew where they were,” I answered him attitude for attitude, “and if only we were not prepared to instantly deny them to you should you prove less than honorable as an ally,” I finished, and ’twas not an idle threat—the Prelate had planned for possible treachery; the source of said riches was well-defended even against their likes and could be magically demolished in an instant using a special spell should the need arise… a fact I then demonstrated by destroying a pile of gems with a simple gesture, reducing them to useless dust.
He laughed. “Methinks I like you, young warrior. You remind me of my daughter. Fearless in combat and ruthless in diplomacy; unafraid to speak back to your betters. Perchance I will even offer you the aid of her army as well,” he suggested casually, scratching his chin with his talons. “Having driven out the other clans eons ago, methinks ’tis been far too long since we have fought in open conflict, and your war may be an excellent training ground for our hatchlings, who seek the opportunity to stretch their wings and prove themselves,” he mused aloud. “When the time comes, I will put them under the leadership of my daughter and place them at your disposal. Until then, we will await your call. But ’twould be wise to not tarry too long, or we may yet find it more profitable to side against you.” He gave me another unpleasant grin.
“We will be at war by winter,” I told him, not about to give him the exact date even though I well knew it. “And when we do, we will need you to keep your word and cage Celestia immediately, before she can intervene…”