Into the Storm: The Flight of Firefly

by Firesight

The War Begins: 13 - Resist and Fight

There are times I am asked if, during the war, I ever despaired of the result or entertained thoughts of giving up. And as much as I would wish to answer neigh, ‘twould be the basest of lies to say. The truth is that yes, there were times my resolve faltered, even on the invasion’s very first day.

To be a soldier or warrior does not mean you never entertain doubts or harbor feelings of despair, and as the gryphons readied their retribution for our sneak attack, one that promised our annihilation, I was forced to confront the one choice a commander never wishes to face: surrender or die; give up or watch the battalion I so loved and had spent so much time building and training be slain to the last.

Methinks war is the most inharmonious act imaginable, and yet, that did not mean that Harmony could not find us in it. ‘Tis certain I had never believed in ‘Harmony’ as a living force before that day, and though I’d certainly heard stories of ponies spontaneously breaking out into song, ‘twas certain that I never thought such a thing could ever happen to me. And certainly not whilst facing the gravest of threats imaginable.

Wingblade’s Edge

Outpost Epsilon
Pony/Gryphon Border
September 1^st, 1139 AC
2315 hours

Our elation over the successful attack on the gryphon assembly area was short-lived.

For better and for worse, the surprise strike had the desired effect as the Talons immediately brought up additional forces and began hemming us from all sides, rendering it impossible for our storm teams to get off more than one or two bolts before lobbed crossbow volleys made their positions untenable, forcing them to retreat back into the fog. As darkness fell, over a thousand soldiers were surrounding us from both the sides and above, sky gryphons orbiting in centuries from a distance whilst the earth gryphons gathered on the ground below, behind ridges.

The Knights were massing as well; by mid-evening patrols reported they had scraped together a full century of elite soldiers along with three more mages. They were already feinting strikes at us with the former under the protection of the latter, using wind spells to disperse the fog and shove the lightning-charged clouds hidden within them aside on approach, forcing us to keep shifting our own soldiers to match and preventing anypony from getting much rest.

‘Twas the right strategy to mentally and physically wear us down, as we knew not when their sudden lunges at us might be real and thus had to treat them all as a potential attack. Despite their wind spells, we were maintaining our fog cover as best we could, though at the rate we were burning through our clouds to keep the normally dry desert air saturated and our base hidden, we could sustain it for no more than another eight hours before our storm cloud cache was exhausted…

And once it was, our lives would likely be measured in minutes given the overwhelming force they were massing against us, lacking both cover and the heavy weapons we needed to defend against large-scale attacks.

Thus, despite our successes and given the fact ‘they had now set the better part of half their legion against us, our fate seemed sealed without reinforcements, which was highly unlikely at best. As such, I was surprised when a gryphon patrol approached under flag of truce not long before midnight. They requested parley at the canyon rim, on the condition that we cease lightning fire for the duration.

Uncertain what they were up to, but also hoping it might both buy time and give some inkling of what they were planning, I agreed. Leaving Snow Squall in charge again, I flew out with one of Blindside’s squads to the edge of the cliff, just outside the worst of the fog, taking along Fell Flight and Master Sergeant Stormrunner to represent the Celestial Guardspony contingent.

We did not have long to wait as a score of gryphons flew in, mostly Talons along with several Knights and one mage in the mix, facing us in a loose formation under the light of their mage’s staff. Their armor was worn but arms were sheathed at my instruction, warning that any drawn weapons or resort to the mock-attack theater they normally performed at parleys would be taken as a hostile act.

Given gryphon concepts of honor, I did not expect it to be an ambush, but as a precaution I positioned storm teams behind us deeper in the fog, ready to slay our assailants at my signal or the first launched arrow if it was.

As our two improvised formations faced off from twenty paces apart, the gryphon commander broke ranks first, a sky gryphon eagless walking towards us wearing a silver-hued steel chestplate and black command chain coupled with matched metal vambraces and pauldrons; the latter accented by an inscribed eagle feather—the textbook armor and insignia of a Talon Tribune.

“Greetings, Commander Firefly. I am Tribune Rialta,” she introduced herself in excellent Equish, saluting me in the gryphon manner, “Second in command of the 16^th Talon Legion. I am here because my superior, Legate Galea, wishes me to offer you Honor.”

“I see,” I told her, returning the gesture but speaking with deliberate disdain. “In that case, since your superior sees fit to only send his second, methinks you will speak to my second instead of me. Master Sergeant?” I called behind me, stepping back and inviting Fell Flight to step forward. Which she did quite gladly, walking up and going nose to nose with the eagless, flaring her wings and locking gazes with her, trying to intimidate the gryphon female with her larger stature and slitted eyes.

“Well? What is it?” My hot-blooded second demanded after the eagless seemed to lose her nerve for just a moment in the face of Fell Flight’s size and predatory stare, to say nothing of her bloodied wingblades. “State your business and be quick about it, Tribune! The sooner we dispense with these useless pleasantries, the sooner we can get back to the business of killing each other!”

A single twitch of the Tribune’s tasseled tail betrayed a moment of nervousness, talons moving to weapons behind her. Nevertheless, she mastered her anxiety and answered. “You and your battalion have cost us a great many casualties, Master Sergeant. We acknowledge your skill in battle, and we admit to being surprised by it.” She drew herself up a little taller as she continued. “But such skill can only go so far. You have been lucky to not receive our legion’s full attention before now, but your luck will shortly run out. In truth, my forces are furious at your tactics, as we consider the use of storm clouds in such a manner as dishonorable in the extreme.”

“Dishonorable?” I curled my lip as Fell Flight spat out the word. “You invade using tunnels, slay our generals with mind control gems, slaughter civilians at Cloudsdale, besiege Canterlot with dragons”—we had only received word of that in the past hour along with a notice of Gamma’s failed attack on Raptor; methinks I was stunned by the reports of Sundiver’s likely death—“and then you have the utter gall to complain about our use of unconventional tactics? After all your atrocities this day, methinks your side has no business claiming to be honorable about anything!” Fell Flight snarled, baring her teeth to show her thestral fangs, looking very out of place and menacing against her pony body.

Rialta wasn’t quite able to suppress her flinch. “Believe what you wish, bat-pony. Nevertheless, despite your distasteful tactics, we offer you and your battalion Honor—the unconditional surrender of this outpost in exchange for fair treatment and the promise to be returned to your families alive and unharmed after the war. You have proven yourself worthy warriors, but ‘tis no doubt you have seen the force we are massing against you. We have not attacked you whilst bringing up additional soldiers, but our preparations to do so are nearly complete. Fog or no, be assured you will not survive our coming strike,” she told Fell Flight, but ‘twas no doubt she was addressing me.

Fell Flight was unimpressed, giving a contemptuous snort. “Now where did I last hear that…? Ah yes! From that idiot sub-Tribune this morning who thought she could beat us with but an unsupported Talon cohort and a single crossbow volley!” my second replied; I must admit that I was immensely enjoying her verbal dismantling of her gryphon counterpart. “You can take your offer of honor and feed it to your crows, Tribune! Be assured that we will not forsake our duty or surrender this outpost without a fight!”

“You have already put up a fight and inflicted severe losses,” Rialta tried again, her tail flicking in agitation as she visibly struggled to maintain her composure; we didn’t know at the time she was partially responsible for that debacle by not preventing Sub-Tribune Yalis from attacking without orders. “You have fought well and already done all that honor requires. So why continue when you cannot win?”

“Because unlike you, we are not motivated by honor, Tribune.” To my surprise, ‘twas Stormrunner who answered, stepping forward past me. He rarely said much, but when he did, his words were best heeded. “We fight because we are soldiers of Equestria, charged with her protection and defense. We fight because ‘tis our duty—because we have pledged our lives to our nation and princess, and we cannot fulfill that pledge as prisoners,” he said, starting to speak more fervently.

“We fight because every soldier we slay here is one more that cannot invade or threaten our nation. Because every moment we delay you here means your timetable slips and your invasion falters!” he finished, leaving us all with prideful, determined smiles by the end of his speech.

“Well said, Celestial Guardspony. Except for one minor point.” This time, ‘twas one of Rialta’s subordinates who stepped forward and spoke; an older and larger earth gryphon tiercel garbed in the gold armor of a Knight Centurion who spoke accented Equish. “‘Twould seem you proceed from a false assumption of your own. You think we fight for honor? Hardly. We fight for our side no less than you, and we know that we risk annihilation from your alicorn princess for doing so.

“But we are taking that risk—not for glory or honor, but to save our race and our nation. To overthrow your princess to ensure she cannot go mad like her sister and destroy not just our Empire, but the world entire!”

“How dare you…” Methinks I had never seen Stormrunner so angry as he snorted his indignation and pawed at the ground. “So this is why you invade? Having served at the side of My Princess for nearly a decade, I know her well and can say with certainty that the danger you describe does not exist! Methinks I would challenge you to a duel for your slander, Centurion, but ‘tis certain circumstances alone will settle the matter soon enough!”

The large earth gryphon lowered his head. “I am Centurion Cassian Nael of the Fortis Knights, and I will accept your challenge at any time, Guardspony!” He drew his enormous battle axe and pointed it at Stormrunner, who deployed his wingblades in response, looking ready to issue one right then and there. “In fact, why wait? Methinks we can duel here and now, if you wish!”

I immediately headed it off by stepping between them, though I couldn’t help but note the irony of a mare stepping between stallions to break up a fight before it began. ‘Twas usually the other way around in Equestrian culture given our mare-heavy society; stallions could stop fights between mares simply by interposing themselves and triggering an ingrained mare instinct to not endanger males.

“Stand down, Master Sergeant. ‘Tis not the time,” I told him sternly, glaring him back before returning my attention to Rialta. “He speaks for all of us, and thus, methinks you have your answer, Tribune. We will not surrender!”

“That is your decision, commander. But is it that of your soldiers?” she asked me, looking rattled despite her best efforts. “Do they wish to die for a hopeless cause?”

“That it is hopeless is a matter of opinion, Tribune!” I retorted.

“Is it? Then perchance you wouldst allow me to enlighten you of certain facts, Commander Firefly,” Rialta began, raising her voice so that the squad behind me could hear and sounding at least a little more confident. “As of this parley, your battalion is now the only remaining Equestrian border force that remains west of your Outpost Omega, which is being assaulted even as we speak.

“Under Legate Galea’s leadership, and mine before his, our legion has destroyed every other Equestrian Army and Aerial Corps base in this sector, leaving you with no chance of reinforcement or relief. You have won two fights, but in the end, you have only inconvenienced us, and the losses you have inflicted on our legion are far from crippling.

“In short, you cannot run and you cannot win. You face not just the Talons, but the Knights now, and believe me when I say that when we strike again, the mistakes of this morning will not be repeated. You will fall here without a doubt, slain to the last pony, and none will know of your victories or stand!”

“We care not,” I told her sharply but succinctly. “We decline your offer, Tribune.”

Rialta stared at me in disbelief. “Perchance I did not make myself clear, Commander. If you choose to fight, you will die!”

“And perchance you are hard of hearing, as the answer is no!” Fell Flight hissed at her, the seemingly unnatural sound coming from an equine causing the eagless to take an involuntary step back, to the frowns of her subordinates, most notably Nael himself. “Methinks further discussion is pointless! I say we are done here, Commander!” my second suggested.

“As do I, Master Sergeant. Do your worst, Tribune,” I told her as I turned to leave, my voice calm in direct contrast to Fell Flight’s browbeating. “But do not expect a quick or easy victory.”

Despite our threatened departure and her visibly frazzled nerves, Rialta made one last attempt, perchance aware she was losing face in front of her forces. “And what of your son, Commander?” she called after me, stopping me short. “Yes, we know of him. Despite his treasonous acts, we would spare Gavian Ravenoff as well and even allow him to stay with you in captivity. But if you choose to fight? He will receive the treatment of all traitors, beginning with a public tribunal and ending with his head on a spike!”

With great deliberateness, I turned back to her and locked gazes with her; with my emotions roiled and both warrior and motherly instincts asserting themselves, whatever she saw in my eyes made her swallow. “You will die before that happens, Tribune. And he would rather die than be returned to the Empire that thought his talents useless and very life worthless,” I informed her, my voice calm but ice cold. The latter was no idle boast; he had sworn he would not return to the Empire, pledging to fight and die at my side the night before.

“Ah yes. He is an artist, we are told.” Nael all but sneered, though given the glance he shot at the Tribune, I was given cause to wonder whether ‘twas more directed at the idea or at Rialta’s less-than-inspiring performance at the parley. “The Empire has no use for such softness, and it disgusts me that you encourage it in him. But perchance ‘tis for the best. We are warriors, after all, and those who cannot fight have no place in gryphon society. Such refuse as he is best cast aside.”

“I can fight!” a male gryphon voice called out from behind me, causing my head to whip around as Gavian himself suddenly flew forth to stand by me, a surprised-looking Swift Strike belatedly rushing to his side. “And if you wish, Centurion, I’ll prove it to you right now!” he told them in the near-perfect Equish he’d acquired since the start of the year, having mastered our language in a mere matter of months.

“Gavian!” I had a moment of real panic when I saw him, fearful of their reaction to him, and he was indeed met with narrowed eyes and angry tail lashes as they saw him wearing purloined blue-painted Talon armor and wielding a stolen Raven scimitar. “Sky Sergeant, what were you—?”

“Sorry, ma’am. He was afraid ‘twas a trap and if so, you might be slain and he wouldn’t be able to fulfil his oath to die with you. He insisted on watching, and then he burst forth by himself when he heard that,” Swift Strike explained shortly as Gavian began engaging the Knight Centurion in his native tongue.

The two exchanged words in Aeric for a bit, initially amused tones from the large tiercel clashing with increasingly angry and forceful ones from Gavian. I only knew a word or two of Aeric then, picking out “honor” and “warrior” at various points. But whatever was said, their talk ended with drawn weapons and a final sharp exchange of words, Gavian pointing his Raven blade in goading challenge at the Knight Centurion, who for the first time showed genuine anger, snarling sharply and hefting his axe, looking ready to slay the much smaller Gavian on the spot.

Fell Flight grinned as Swift Strike grimaced, both knowing the gryphon language as they did. “What did he say?” I asked the latter in little more than a whisper.

“In blunt terms… Nael told him ‘twas in his best interest to surrender and Gavian told him to go rut his mother, ma’am,” Swift Strike answered in equally low tones, speaking in his distinct Trottingham accent. “He also renewed his oath to die defending you and all Equestria before he would return to the Empire.”

“That’s our lad!” Fell Flight said approvingly, going up beside him and putting an affectionate wing over him. “At least there’s one honorable gryphon here!” she added, insulting the Imperials even as she complimented Gavian, escorting him back to our lines.

Unable to suppress my own grin, I moved up to flank him, putting my wing over him as well. “You have your answer, Tribune. If this is to be our end, be assured that ‘twill be paid for with rivers of gryphon blood.

“And be assured that should we meet in battle… whether ‘tis by my blades or my son’s, you will fall first!” I warned her, having already taken her measure and found it wanting, both as a soldier and commander. Methinks I sensed that Nael was going to be a problem, however, as he appeared to be a skilled and veteran warrior.

An appraisal that was confirmed as he stepped towards me, ignoring Fell Flight and Stormrunner. “Bold words, Commander. Though I find him without honor and the idea that he can fight laughable, I acknowledge your so-called son’s devotion to you is real. But I cannot help but wonder if ‘tis shared by your subordinates.” He nodded behind me at Blindside’s squad, which was standing silent but listening, their thoughts unreadable.

“Perchance your son will fight because he has nowhere else to go. But your soldiers do. I wonder if they are so eager to sacrifice their lives for a lost cause? In fact, why not put the question to them?” he called out so they could hear. “Methinks that more than a few would take our offer to surrender if it meant one day seeing their families again.”

My eyes narrowed. “Nary a one would, Centurion,” I told him, desperately trying to quash a sudden and very unwelcome sense of doubt. On the face of it, I didn’t think many or even any would, given how closely we had bonded as comrades over the past year; those malcontents who had no stomach for combat or the severe training I had given the battalion had left long before. And yet…

He smiled almost sweetly, perchance recognizing my uncertainty. “Then methinks there is no danger of putting the choice before them,” he told me, resheathing his axe before walking right up to me between an incredulous Stormrunner and Fell Flight, who did not stop him from going nose to nose with me, trying to intimidate me with his larger size and battle-tested physique as Fell Flight had his tribune.

Though his effort was in vain—I’d faced Guardsponies as large as him without flinching—he had a powerful presence and his very manner spoke of great confidence, one borne of long battlefield experience and all the acquired warrior skill that came with it. He held my gaze for a moment, testing my nerve before speaking again, his tone both commanding and contemptuous.

“We have offered you Honor, Commander—an offer that will be rescinded if ‘tis not accepted shortly. By order of Legate Galea, you have until midnight to surrender your force. That leaves you just half a hora in which we will not attack unless you do,” he told me, using the gryphon term for hour. “Thirty of your minutes during which your soldiers and even your son, despite his insults to honor, can emerge safely without weapons to be taken prisoner. Thirty minutes… in which you can give your soldiers the option to be spared.

“And then? We will simply slay whoever is left!” He smirked, leaving me in some admiration at the size of his decidedly non-equine apples. “Perchance it will cost us another century or two of casualties given the skill of your soldiers, but as the destruction of your battalion will bring us closer to winning the war and ending the threat of your power-mad princess, be assured that ‘tis a price we are willing to pay!”

He then turned to Stormrunner upon hearing his angry snort. “And as for you, Guardspony…” He went nose to nose with his stallion counterpart next; twas only when they were side by side that I noticed the slightly duller shade of the gold Knight armor compared to the bright gold of the Celestial Guard. “Surrender or no, if you wish to defend your precious princess’ honor, I will be more than happy to provide you a duel field for it! Face me in single combat… if you dare,” he offered without any hint of hesitation or doubt that he could win, and then turned on his leonine heel to leave, but not before calling back one final warning.

“You have until the mare in the moon reaches her apex in the sky, Commander Firefly,” he said with a nod at the blood-red moon hanging overhead; the ominous hue an announcement by the princess to all ponies that Equestria was at war. “Fail to surrender, and that means you, your son, and your entire force die. Choose wisely,” he advised us, at which point he departed along with the rest of the gryphons, leaving us alone on the cliff edge.

The short flight back to base through the fog was spent in silence.

Despite all, Nael’s words had had their effect, and I found myself contemplating the unthinkable—the surrender of my force. We had fought well, but I feared he was right that to continue to do so would be to sacrifice it to little real end. We had already bloodied them badly, but what was another century or two of gryphon troops in the general scheme of things? And though I was fully willing and in fact intended to fight and die myself, what right had I to ask my entire battalion to sacrifice themselves along with me; fight to the death in a futile last stand?

Thus, after some subdued discussion with those who had been present at the parley, I recalled all patrols, ordering my battalion to assemble in the fog on the main drill field in platoon formations; ‘twas five minutes before all were present and accounted for. “Soldiers of Outpost Epsilon! Listen and take heed!” I called into my blue command gem, not knowing how I was going to say what I needed to say.

I began by reciting our current situation, telling them that we were now all that remained of the Equestrian Army and Aerial Corps border forces this side of Outpost Omega, which was now under attack and likely to fall by daybreak. I emphasized that our rescue or escape was now all but impossible, and with Canterlot besieged by a clan of dragons, Our Princess would not be intervening. We were on our own, and increasingly unlikely to survive the night.

“You are the finest soldiers and battalion a commander could ever wish for. I am proud of each and every one of you, for your resolve and superb performance in battle this day. But now, a great and very grave decision is upon us,” I told them. “We have won two victories, but with over a thousand gryphon troops waiting to attack us outside the fog, our continued survival seems impossible.

“The gryphons have offered us honor,” I told them through gritted teeth, “and I believe their offer is genuine—fair treatment if we surrender, with the promise to be returned to our homes and families unharmed after the war.”

I wasn’t sure how to take it when nopony spoke or moved, aside from a few frowns and darting eyes, individual soldiers looking at each other to appraise the feelings of their comrades. ‘Tis my choice to fight and die, but it may not be all of yours,” I told them. “Thus, I will not make to stay and fight an order. Thus, any who wish to surrender… may.” I closed my eyes and lowered my head as I spoke the final word, awaiting and fearing the first pony to step forward, strangely certain ‘twould likely lead to many more.

A Son’s Plea

To my surprise, ‘twas not a pony who spoke up first, but Gavian. “Mother?” He flew up beside me. “May I speak?” He bared his throat politely, holding out his paw for my blue command gem.

Methinks, I couldn’t even look him in the eye. “Gavian…” I was not quite able to keep my voice from breaking even as I passed it to him. “They have offered you honor, too…”

“Crows take their honor, Mother!” he spat out the Gryphon invective with great vehemence, causing me to jerk my head up in surprise. “They have none!”

His shout had gotten everypony’s attention, and he now made the most of it, taking flight and hovering twenty feet overhead where all could see him, speaking into the gem. “Listen to me, all of you! When I first came here, ‘twas as your enemy; a wretched raider who joined only because he had no other choice and no place to go,” he began. “I yearned for a home and acceptance above all else, but I did not find it there or any place in the Empire!

“But for all my worthlessness and wretchedness back then, you accepted me! It took time, but you all did! And for such kindness, I would fight not just for Equestria, but for every last one of you!” he promised us, his fervor having a noticeable effect as my soldiers were starting to stand up straighter.

“You fed me, you schooled me, you let me practice art and even taught me how to fight, letting me learn to become the warrior I always dreamt! You did everything for me my own kind and nation would not! You took me in whilst my own kind cast me out! And now, I see from your faces that some of you contemplate surrender?” he asked, aghast.

“I came from the Empire, and methinks I know only too well what they would do should they win this war! The rule they would impose is one where art is unknown, where only warriors are valued and where parents abandon six-year old cubs for being too small!” His voice quavered as he spoke. “Is that what you would have them turn this rich and wonderful nation into? Subjects and slaves to a race whose leadership looks upon ponies as little more than meat?” he demanded to know, tears in his eyes.

“No!” the resounding shout came back.

“Then you must fight!” he implored us, then turned to me. “I swore an oath, Mother! I swore an oath to Princess Celestia herself that I would be loyal to Equestria! I swore an oath to you that I would fight and die at your side if fate decreed it! And I take none of it back!” he announced as he drew his Raven sword, which he had come to wield so well. “The Centurion was wrong—I do have other places I can go, but I choose to stay here! To fight and die with all my friends and family—with all of you!”

He waited for the huzzahs to die down before turning his gaze on Flight Sergeant Osprey, perchance indicating his next words were meant for her ears. “Six soldiers died in a raid defending me. On this night, I repay the debt... with my own blood!” he announced, holding his sword high as Osprey bowed her head. She had once hated him for the loss of two friends in that raid and accepted an offer to duel him to the death over it, but he had bested her with his newfound sword skill, sparing her life on the condition that she apologize to me and engage in training with him.

She had been good to her word, and though her warming up to him was not instant, she would now defend him with her life. In fact, they all would, and just as Nael’s words had deflated us, Gavian’s sent our spirits soaring.

“Well said, my brave and loyal son,” I told him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you. We needed to hear that. And methinks there is nothing I can add... except that I would sooner die than allow the future he describes to pass! I am fighting! Now who is with me?” I asked, feeling far more confident in the answer.

“I am, Ma’am!” Fell Flight announced first to little surprise, stepping to stand at my right hoof. “For me, there is no choice! Fighting is in my blood, and I will not sit out the war in the forlorn hope that all I love will survive without me!” She proclaimed loudly, then her teeth clenched as she stared down at the ground.

“My home city has been struck. My family might be slain. My command and comrades at Omega are lost. My coltfriend in Baltimare might already be dead. I know not their fates; all I do know at this moment is what I still have and what lies in front of me—my base and battalion! And I will not surrender either! I intend to slay as many gryphons as I can this night to make sure the harm they have inflicted on all I hold dear is avenged!”

“Well said!” Flight Sergeant Osprey shouted and stepped forward next. “Methinks you aren’t the only one hurting over Omega, Master Sergeant. Those of us who served there with you saw plenty of action and too many of our friends fall. We knew to expect attack or death at any time!

“But despite the danger, we stood fast! We didn’t back down to raiders or even Red Talons, and we will not cower before the gryphons now!” she proclaimed, to sounds of agreement from the other members of the three former Omega squads that made up her veteran platoon, who stepped forward as one. “If our sisters at Omega are fighting and dying, then we can do no less! For Omega, for our lost comrades and for our endangered families back in Cloudsdale, to say nothing of all Equestria—I say we fight!” she said to the cheers of her platoon, then turned to her right, to the next platoon in line.

The leader of that platoon actually chuckled. “Methinks hopeless fights and last stands are something they don’t teach you about at the Equestrian Officer Academy, ma’am,” Second Lieutenant Snow Squall told me, then turned his eyes up towards me, resolution in his gaze. “They only teach you to think in purely tactical terms of how you balance the need to both preserve your force whilst inflicting the maximum possible damage on the enemy.

“But if one is not possible? Then you must maximize the other!” he noted, nodding in satisfaction to himself; methinks he’d found his own rationale for our continued resistance at that moment.

But he wasn’t done yet, raising his eyes back to meet mine. “So maximize it we will! Methinks we still have plenty of fight left, ma’am! I have not been at Epsilon long, but ‘tis certain I have been very impressed with it, both with the quality of its soldiers and their leaders! ‘Twill be my honor to fight and die with you, not as an officer or base commander but as the simple soldier I once was!” he proclaimed, followed by his entire platoon announcing their intention to stay, raising their wingblades to the skies along with him.

“You don’t even have to ask me, Ma’am,” Master Sergeant Stormrunner said next from the head of his platoon. “I couldn’t just give up. Not when there’s plenty of gryphons left to kill and that insulting Centurion to slay!” he said to the hoofstomping approval of his own platoon.

“If he’s fighting, we’re fighting!” one of his squad leaders called out, the mares of his platoon obeying their instincts to defend stallions at all costs. “Methinks we’ll spill so much gryphon blood they’ll wish they never invaded!”

All that left of my four combat platoon leaders was Blindside, who looked up at me with her one good eye, which was glimmering. “I’ve been with you here since the beginning, ma’am, and methinks I’ll be damned if I leave you here to die alone!” she proclaimed with a stomp of her hoof—she and her original squad had come with me to Epsilon on the same transport so many months earlier; she’d been there as long as I had.

“You know how I feel and where my heart lies, ma’am—you saved me, and ‘tis certain I couldn’t live with myself if I abandoned you now. I cannot speak for my platoon, but in life or in death, I’ll follow you to the gates of Tartarus!” she said with a salute as the rest of her platoon proclaimed their fervent agreement.

“Thank you, Sergeant.” I returned the salute and bowed my head. Blindside had admitted she’d had feelings for me but a month earlier; ‘twas a consequence at least in part of my saving her life in the Hearth’s Warming raider attack Gavian was captured in. ‘Twas a desperate and forlorn declaration of love, given the battalion was breaking up to spread its acquired skill throughout the Corps. Knowing she could no longer stay with me, she had accepted an offer to join the Black Lances, who had recruited her for her otherworldly awareness of her surroundings she’d developed to compensate for her lack of two good eyes. “It means much to me.”

“We’re with you too, ma’am!” her second squad leader, Corporal Shrike, spoke up. “I have heirs, and I’ll die to make sure they don’t have to live as slaves under gryphon rule! We’ve all faced death already, both today and during last year’s raids! We’re ready to do so again!” he promised, stomping his hoof and flaring his wings for emphasis. A rare combat-assigned Corps stallion, he’d slain his first gryphon at the same engagement I did and gone through the same soul-searching afterwards, requiring time with his herd to come to terms with it. But come to terms with it he had, returning a veteran soldier and taking Blindside’s place as her platoon’s 2nd squad leader.

“I’m in as well, ma’am,” Swift Strike spoke up from beside Gavian. “Methinks I’ve cheated death so many times by now that ‘tis no use running from it. ‘Tis also not in my nature to surrender—the Lances complete their missions or die trying! And besides, I have not yet had the opportunity to engage the gryphons myself.” He closed his eyes and smiled. “’Tis time I do so. I will fight and die this night not as a Lance, but as a regular Corps soldier!”

“Thank you, Sky Sergeant. I cannot help but feel regret, though…” I said almost wistfully.

“Regret, ma’am?” Swift Strike asked.

“Regret,” I confirmed. “After all the time you spent training me, and after all the times we sparred, methinks I will fall here without ever having bested you!” I announced to an eruption of laughter from both the Sky Sergeant and the rest of my assembled troops. The sound itself was very heartening, and I felt my chest swell with pride at the devotion to duty and desire to fight on that I was hearing.

“Ma’am? If I may?” Sergeant Herbal Balm, the leader of our six-unicorn healer team spoke up, giving me some pause—’twas certain that if any unit members wished to surrender, ‘twould probably be our healers, who preferred to be pacifistic and had only learned the killing arts at my direct orders months earlier. “We don’t want to die and we don’t want to kill. ‘Tis not in our nature, and we hated you for forcing us to master these,” he told us, motioning with distaste to the longbow and quiver strapped to his back.

“But you asked us then if we relished the idea of watching those in our care cut down without reason or mercy, showing us the graves of those who died here before us, unable to defend their patients. You asked us if we would trust in the good intentions of our enemies, and the answer… is no. I do not trust this offer. And even if I did, methinks I see no future of being allowed to care for others in captivity, for they would restrict our magic and prevent us from tending patients.

“I hate fighting, but methinks the only thing I hate more is the thought of the gryphons winning and watching them from afar as they conquer my country, slaying my friends and family. We’re with you, ma’am! Our bows are yours to command!” With his words, the six healers levitated their longbows as one.

“S-so am I!” I heard a surprisingly familiar voice, looking down to see… a heavily bandaged Sky Sentry listening, standing with the aid of a healer, wearing a spare Corps combat uniform with his Guardspony armor battered into uselessness; only his red sergeant stripes from them remained, now clipped to his shoulders. “I already watched one outpost slain to the last, ma’am! I couldn’t save them and should have died with them, but… I’ll die here with all of you!” He couldn’t quite keep the catch from his voice as he spoke.

“Thank you, Sergeant.” My heart went out to him, leaving me wondering again what Tartarus he’d been through; he hadn’t been willing to tell me when I’d seen him again after he’d gotten out of surgery, only asking me to stay with him and hold his hoof—which I’d done until he’d fallen asleep again, as I found mare instincts to protect a stallion perchance asserting themselves for the first time.

“Well, ma’am…” Storm Sergeant Blue Bolt was the last to speak; he’d been conferring with the six teams of his weather platoon whilst the others were speaking. He’d always struck me as a rather laid-back stallion but ‘twas no doubt in my mind he was good at his post, training his teams well and knowing the skies inside and out. “Methinks we’ve had a good run. If it ends here, so be it.

“But you know... it strikes me that we still have all these storm clouds, and ‘twould be a terrible shame to not use them…” he told me with a rather evil gleam in his eyes, one soon copied by his subordinates.

“We have ten minutes and half our cloud cache remaining. Thanks to the fog, we also have a very warm and saturated atmosphere to work with—perfect storm fuel! So if Fell Flight still wishes to create a supercell, methinks we now have an excellent opportunity to do so...” He proceeded to outline a plan that would never have even been considered but for our current predicament, one that both presumed—if not hastened!—our inevitable destruction but promised to exact an enormously high price from the gryphons in the process.

“But that’s crazy…” Snow Squall said when his fellow stallion had finished, though the intrigued smile on his face belied his own words.

“‘Twould certainly be unexpected…” Stormrunner noted, sporting a sly grin of his own.

“Methinks I like it,” First Sergeant Still Way closed his eyes and smiled serenely. “’Twould be an end worthy of song.”

“Methinks I love it!” Fell Flight replied enthusiastically to little surprise, baring her pointed teeth in her own growing and gleeful grin. “I say we do it!”

“’Twould certainly neutralize their numbers and make a mess of any attack,” Swift Strike agreed, the barest hint of a smile touching his face. “And we would have the advantage in such conditions.”

“Indeed we would. So be it!” I proclaimed. “As they have been so generous as to grant us the time we need, ‘tis time to turn our ultimate weapon loose!”

It took less than two minutes to organize ourselves for the effort. Throwing open the vault doors of our underground storm cloud cache, we began removing clouds as fast as we could, all but flinging them up in the fog-choked air before piling them together, fusing them into one large and growing mass. We’d practiced this several times a year in case the call came in to release a superstorm upon the gryphons, but lacking static targets, it seemed unlikely we would ever get the chance.

‘Twas the brilliance of Blue Bolt’s plan to recognize that we now did have a static target where we could guarantee the gryphons would be—our own base! If we could make the storm erupt overhead just as the gryphons struck, they would be trapped within it. So would we, but as pegasi, our wind and weather magic left us much more able to function in such extreme conditions, giving us the ability to take a large number of them with us.

In the past, we had practiced making such storms using our cloud cache and could do so with the full battalion available in the space of fifteen minutes. We had less than ten here and yet, it came easy. Part of it may have been the ideal atmosphere, but even allowing for it, our efforts were far more efficient than they should have been. We were resolved to die here, and somehow, ‘twas an incredibly liberating thing. All that mattered now was our task:

Build the storm and, using the promised midnight attack on our base as a lure, trap and slaughter the gryphons within it, taking as many of them with us as we could.

Sabaton: Resist and Bite

Unable to help, as earth ponies could not manipulate clouds or weather, Spear Sergeant Steelheart began pounding out a rhythm on a set of drums owned by our earth pony maintenance crew. Trapped there by the sudden invasion, the generally blonde-maned and bearded crew themselves took up their instruments in support of Steelheart whilst Gavian helped the healers move their patients and equipment into the quickly vacated vault, which would become both our infirmary and our final redoubt. As the pounding beat of the drums took hold, the band began playing a very compelling martial melody. I felt a strange surge of energy within me, and then...

To my great surprise, I began to sing right into my blue command gem in time to the music as we went to work!

I recited our situation lyrically, stunned at how smoothly I could do so. Doubly so when my busy soldiers answered as one.

They rejoined together. I didn’t know how ‘twas happening, but the words somehow suggested themselves, and I sung them like they were as familiar a melody to me as one of the old drinking songs I’d learned at the Aching Drum, my favorite pub when I was growing up in Spur:

Again, my soldiers answered in the same song, even as they continued to dig out storm clouds and assemble them, a few going to form a battle line to stop the gryphons from interfering whilst the rest were piled into a single mass, fused together and steadily expanded outwards and upwards.

They rejoined, their thoughts clearly matching my own, taking strength from the song and their own resolve.

My soldiers announced their agreement quite forcefully as we began building our supercell in earnest; the music somehow only adding to our pace!

My heart swelled with pride at their declaration, watching and helping as they built a growing cumulus congestus cloud right over the outpost; Stormrunner’s platoon starting to power its updraft by drawing air in from below into its base as I assisted with Blindside’s platoon in providing the needed shearing wind from a bit higher up, just below the highest level of the fog.

The response of my soldiers was instant:

Wingblades were deployed and teeth were bared to emphasize the point as we continue to feed clouds and air into our last resort and chosen instrument of destruction. At the conclusion of the second chorus, I felt the growing storm begin to draw breath, its wind and size now increasing of its own accord and a static charge beginning to build as I launched into the next stanza:

Somehow, they even repeated my own words!

They launched into the now familiar chorus as the supercell above our heads began to explosively expand and grow, the storm clouds seeding it, gorging on the warm and humid air the fog had left below.

Now instead of just me singing the final stanzas, ‘twas myself and all my soldiers:

The song paused except for the martial melody in our minds, fed to us by the band and Harmony itself, letting us quickly and efficiently build the storm above and around us, its tower erupting both vertically and horizontally out of the fog below and sucking it all in, its twisting winds and monstrously strong updraft already tugging at the gryphons surrounding us as the storm took on a life of its own, feeding off the large amounts of warm and humid air below and rapidly expanding in breadth to cover not just our base, but the gryphons pushing in just as midnight was reached. And yet, even over the growing gale, our song was still heard clearly:

We completed the final chorus just as the Imperials struck and the first bolts of lightning began crackling through the cloud, the storm about to break in all its fury directly overhead, engulfing pony and gryphon soldiers alike.

And so we arrive at the cusp of what seemed certain to be our final stand, but ‘tis here I must lay the pen down so I may be with my father, who is about to undergo a major operation. I regret leaving it off here, but with not just myself but all of the Epsilon survivors heading to Canterlot to be there for him, none are currently available to describe this fight.

I must apologize to the readers for this, but some things are simply more important than this tale. ‘Tis not to say that others cannot speak to it, however. Whilst I am certain some of you were hoping for us to resolve the fight in this chapter, ‘tis another point of view that needs to be heard first, so I will turn the quill over to a pony who can tell it.

Thank you, Captain Firefly. And to those who read this, I bid you fair tidings.

Though Admiral Tailwind was offered the opportunity to write this section, he declined, as he is currently slated for an experimental medical procedure that, if successful, will at long last restore his ability to fly. Though there are no guarantees of success and he is now into his early seventies, he decided he did not wish to pass on without giving himself the chance to ‘feel the wind in his mane’ once more. He wants his mind to be clear for the procedure, to properly appreciate what will happen, and so ‘tis by his request that I take up the quill.

I am Shady, Commodore of Royal Navy Battle Group Capricorn (formerly Battle Group Four), though I was but a Captain at war’s outbreak. Befitting my rank, I was in command of perchance the proudest warship in the Navy, the EAS Loyalty. ‘Twas, at the time, the most advanced of our capital airships currently in service, although due to the Navy’s lack of personnel and funding, which it had to fight for in the face of apathy and resentment from the other services, ‘twas undercrewed and undersupplied when the war broke out.

Despite that, I ultimately decided that we could make a difference in this war. As those of you who have read the fifth chapter in this volume may recall, I was urged into action by the words of Tailwind, my then-first officer. And so ‘twas that, in the absence of our battle group commander and without orders from Canterlot, I took command and ordered the Loyalty and her smaller, fast-attack escorts, the Duty and the Vigil, to set sail for Outpost Epsilon, in the hopes we could evacuate the base and rescue its garrison.

‘Twas a grave decision that, during the ten hours of transit it required, left me in no little amount of doubt. As fate would have it, though, we were soon faced with the choice of not just how to proceed, but even if to proceed at all…

Master and Commander

Bridge
EAS Loyalty
Four hundred miles west of Outpost Epsilon
September 1^st, 1139 AC
2335 hours

“Captain!” Ensign Kusema called out as we skirted the north shore of the large Celestial Sea six hours into our journey, her hoof on her ear gem as she listened to the very ether around us, an ability our experimental equipment granted. The battle group, as Tailwind said before, was used as a proving ground for new ideas and technology for the weapons labs of Stalliongrad, and ‘twas to our benefit here. “Methinks I can hear gryphons now!”

“You can?” I turned to my right in some surprise. We were still nearly four hundred miles from the border; I didn’t think their communications could reach that far… or was it simply that they had already penetrated into Equestria that deeply?

“Aye, ma’am! We’re close enough that I can pick up some gryphon dispatches on their scrying networks! ‘Twould seem they don’t encrypt their communications!” She shook her head in amazement, having stayed up well past her shift to remain at her post, refusing all relief.

Methinks I could hardly blame her for that—who could sleep at a time like this, knowing we were heading to a war zone and knew not what we would find once we got there?

“Very well, Ensign. ‘Tis reassuring to know they are foals of the first order. So what are they saying?” I asked in an even voice, knowing she spoke the gryphon tongue—she in fact knew fully a dozen languages, and her cutie mark reflected it, showing crossed quill feathers writing in different scripts against a scroll. But such idle thoughts were lost as, beside me, I heard Tailwind take and hold his breath.

“That Epsilon alone still stands, ma’am!” she announced to my mingled relief and trepidation—relief that they were still alive, but trepidation that we would indeed be entering into a war zone in an attempt to save them; despite my outward calm, ‘twould be a lie to say I was not as much frightened as excited by the prospect, uncertain if my ships and crew were up to the task. “‘Tis certain my Aeric is a bit rusty, but methinks the gryphons said they have massed over a millennium of soldiers against them and given them until midnight to surrender!”

“By midnight?” A look of consternation crossed Tailwind’s features. “That’s not much time…”

“I see,” I replied, nodding slowly as I gauged our chances anew. There’d been reports from all three ships of at least a few crewmembers deserting during the long trip; pegasi flying off the decks and diving for the ground when nopony was watching and at least one case on the Duty where a dozen earth pony and unicorn crew members had commandeered a lifeboat and cast off.

Though disgusted at the cowardice, I’d allowed them to leave, as they’d likely be useless in combat anyway and be more hindrance than help. ‘Twas certain I was taking names, however, and if we survived the next few hours, I intended to have them arrested for desertion. ‘Twas Luna’s long-ago rule that the punishment for abandoning your post and duty was death, and the penalty remained on the Royal Navy books even after all this time. “What is the status of our ballistae and weapons lockers?” I turned to Commander Tailwind sitting at my left, keeping my ire hidden.

“We have most of our newer cannon and half the older ballistae working, and the crews are armed and ready,” Tailwind told me with a nod to Cutlass Cleave, our Mare-at-Arms, who was currently on the bridge stocking its weapons lockers. My second in command was wearing a custom wingblade on his good wing as he patted the folded crossbow strapped to his foreleg, larger and more powerful versions of the wrist-mounted concealable ones the PSD favored. “Heavier weapons including pikes and spears have been stationed at critical points throughout the ship. I ordered our pegasus squadrons to get some sleep in their gear in advance of their expected air battle, but ‘tis doubtful at best they will get much.”

“Methinks I would expect no less,” I replied perfunctorily. Tailwind and I had done all we could; the ship was now as ready as ‘twas going to be. For myself, I was armed with naught but my naval saber, whilst the bridge crew members were likewise armed with weapons that suited their tribe and talents—axes for the earth ponies, small blades and longbows for the unicorns, and wingblades and miniature crossbows for the pegasi, of whom most were assigned to our attack wing.

Some soldiers even had some weapons of their particular heritage; Sora had a neighponese blade on his back passed down through his family whilst down in engineering, I was told that Flash Fix had an old Shetland broadsword he was strong enough to wield with his mouth. ‘Tis certain none of it was regulation, but as I sported a pair of decidedly non-regulation sunshades, ‘twas simply a rule I chose not to enforce. “I want at least one more anti-boarding drill performed before we get too close.”

“But midnight is less than twenty minutes away, Captain!” Tailwind reminded me. “Drills or no, we must increase speed if we are to get there in time!”

“Our fuel reserves will dip dangerously low if we increase speed, ma’am!” Sora spoke up. “We may not have enough left to reach Ursa base on the Lunar Sea!”

“That matters not,” I replied, heading over to study the navigation maps. “As long as we can make our rescue run and then make it far enough to clear gryphon lines, we can get back by sail using wind from our pegasi, whilst waiting for our unicorns to recharge our engines. So yes, we will speed up,” I said to Tailwind’s relief, though methinks ‘twas short-lived given my next words.

“However, we will not go to Epsilon directly. Methinks we will circle around from the north instead,” I announced, levitating the navigation map of northeast Equestria and opening it before me, tracing the route I meant to follow with a quill pen.

“But ma’am!” Tailwind protested as he looked at my proposed route. “Even at flank speed, that would delay our arrival by nearly an hour!”

“But also give us a much better chance to break through to them if we hit the gryphons from the blind side,” I told him. “If we go in directly, we will have to fight through their forward forces, which will be alert and ready to fight themselves. They will see us, they will report us, and methinks we will have multiple cohorts descending upon us in short order. I do not relish that prospect, and neither should you, Commander.” I arched an eyeridge at him.

“But ma’am…” he tried again; I could tell from his frustrated expression he sensed the truth of my words. “The next gryphon attack on Epsilon is going to happen shortly! If we do not hurry, there might be nothing left to rescue by the time we get there!”

I closed my eyes, as this time, ‘twas I that was forced to acknowledge the truth of his words. Only the bridge crew knew that he was the adoptive father of Firefly, the most famous mare in the military and commander of Outpost Epsilon, but my agreeing to help didn’t extend to risking the battle group in a head-on and likely suicidal attack right through the heart of gryphon forces. “I’m sorry, Commander,” I told him, and meant it, raising my voice so the entire bridge crew would hear.

“But we can only help them if we arrive in one piece and take the gryphons by surprise, and methinks the only way we can do that is to circle around to strike them from out of the northern wilderness, where the border does not exist and where they are presumably not patrolling. If we do that, methinks we can reach Epsilon unmolested by 0430, not long before daybreak.”

“They may not survive that long, ma’am…” he reminded me again, somewhat more wanly.

“And neither will we if we go in directly, my friend,” I told him, my voice gentle but firm, praying that for once, the bad luck that had seemed to haunt my life would not affect my chosen mission or the fate of the embattled Epsilon base. “I’m sorry, but my orders are final. This is the only way…” I concluded, preparing to change course and ordering Tailwind to run a final gunnery drill, hoping to keep his mind occupied in the meantime.

After he left, Kusema spoke up again. “Captain? Incoming transmission!”

“Oh?” I looked at her, wondering who was even capable of contacting us at that point.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s from Royal Navy command at Polaris Base in Canterlot!” she reported in some shock, piping it through the crystal speakers at my instruction, another experimental feature that allowed for instant voice communication with those in possession of the same improved communication gems we were equipped with.

“Captain! This is Admiral Coral Torch!” a sharp mare voice sounded over the intercom.

“Admiral?” My jaw fell open as I recognized the commander of the entire Royal Navy, coming to reflexive attention. “How could you be contacting us all the way from Canterlot and in the face of dragon interference…?” As far as I knew, the presence of hostile dragons blocked dragonfire-based communications, and even without the dragons, we should have been far out of range.  

“Never mind that! I’ve just been informed of your departure from Stalliongrad without orders! Where are you and just what in the name of Luna herself do you think you’re doing?” she demanded to know.

“What I prefer to think Luna herself would have approved of, ma’am,” I replied smoothly. “As there may be gryphons listening in, I decline to report my position. But what I’m doing is my duty,” I felt compelled to add. “The Navy’s duty to all Equestria!”

“Your duty, Captain, is to obey orders, and you received none! All the navy bases except Stalliongrad were struck and many airships and crews lost! We need your group intact and fully readied for action, not thrown into a half-baked plan to rescue your first officer’s daughter!” she accused, causing me to grimace. The Admiral was many things, but stupid wasn’t among them; ‘twas no surprise she’d been able to figure it out on her own. “A single Corps battalion is not worth your three ships! I order you to break off your course and divert to Royal Navy Base Ursa on the Lunar Sea at once!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” I replied after a brief pause, speaking softly and bowing my head. “Methinks you can court-martial me later, but lacking orders or the presence of Commodore Catamaran, the decision to take the battle group into action was mine and mine alone. The rescue attempt needs to be made, not just for her but for the Navy and all Equestria!”

“What?” came the incredulous reply.

“As a service and a nation, we need at least one victory and one hero to rally around, and if we pull this off, methinks we will gain both!” I explained, somewhat shortly. “For what it’s worth, ‘tis our plan to return to Ursa afterwards. You may arrest me then.”

“If there’s anything left of you or your group!” she corrected in exasperation. “Even if you survive, you’ll be thrown in the brig and then out of the Navy for this, Captain!”

“Then methinks this will be no different than any other job in my life,” I told her, bowing my head again before bringing it back up. “I’m sorry, Admiral. This needs to be done and I will not divert! I will report in again if and when we’re on our way back. Shady out,” I finished, then ordered Kusema with a sharp slashing motion of my hoof to cut the connection.

The Bridge around me had gone deathly silent whilst the Admiral and I were arguing. “We’re doing this against orders, ma’am?” Sora finally asked.

“Not until this minute, but yes,” I admitted. “We had no orders to start. We do now, but I am disobeying them. And methinks you would be fully within your rights to mutiny and relieve me of command over it.

“But I ask that you do not, nor that you mention this to the other ships of the group,” I requested of them, as only the Loyalty could receive such a message; our escorts were older and did not possess our prototype communication equipment. “I am not doing this for myself, or even ultimately for Tailwind’s daughter. I’m doing this because I believe it’s the right thing to do. I wish to strike a blow for the morale of not just the Navy but of all Equestria. Morale methinks we will sorely need in the weeks and months to come.”

The dozen members of the bridge crew looked at each other, then back to me; ‘twas finally the Mare-at-Arms, Senior Starpony Cutlass Cleave, who spoke first. “I’m not happy you didn’t consult us or trust us with this, ma’am, but… given the desertions, methinks I can understand why,” she granted, hefting her namesake for a moment before spinning it around her forehoof. “We have to fight sometime, and ‘twould seem we can make a difference here at the start. I’m ready for battle, ma’am! You can count me in.”

“Me too,” Sora said. “’Tis unthinkable in Neighpon to shirk battle or retreat without a fight as the Admiral demands. Methinks I wouldn’t be worthy of my grandsire’s blade if I did!” he noted, reaching back to partially unsheathe it for a moment.

“You know, my mother told me stories of the gryphons back in the Zebra homeland, ma’am,” Kusema mused. “’Tis certain she hated them. Arrogant, predatory, and enjoyed raiding our ships and northern villages. She even said they used raider groups, just as they do here,” she further noted.

“My mother faced and fought them before I was born, so methinks I can do no less. Orders or no, I’ll fight them, too!” She bared her teeth and flashed a zebra blade at me, the unusually vibrant colors of the metal suggesting it had been alchemically treated to unknown affect. “What about you, Lieutenant?” she asked, turning to the dark-furred stallion officer at her right.

Said stallion considered that, then chuckled. “My great-grandmother passed down stories of my ancestors serving in the Royal Navy all the way back to the glory days of Luna, ma’am,” Lieutenant Aries Azimuth, our pegasus navigator, answered; with his tufted ears and more nocturnal habits there’d been rumors that he in fact had some thestral blood. “And ‘tis certain that turning back now would not be living up to them! I want the Navy to return to glory again as much as you do. So if the Admiral wishes to arrest you, he’ll have to arrest me too!” He deployed his wingblades for emphasis.

That seemed to settle it as the rest of the bridge crew then spoke up, all saying they were in, causing me to sigh with relief—I’d been strangely certain my bad luck meant that they would indeed turn on me, but they had not, and thus, we were now committed to our course.

“From the bottom of my heart, I thank all of you,” I acknowledged with a bowed head. “And I will do my best to be worthy of your loyalty this day.”

“Altered course plotted, ma’am,” Lieutenant Azimuth reported from where he’d been looking over the map, making additional annotations of his own on it.

“The Duty and Vigil have been notified,” Kusema confirmed. “Standing by to change course on your orders.”

“Then tell them the order is given. Lieutenant Sora, come about to heading zero-three-five-by-twelve, and increase to flank speed!” I instructed, giving him our course and altitude.

“Aye-aye, ma’am!” he acknowledged, spinning the wheel to bring the battle group to a more northeasterly heading and then moving the large speed control lever forward, the soft hum of the engines increasing in volume and frequency as power to the propellers was increased; the group gaining altitude slowly to where the thinner air would allow us greater speed.

I tapped a crystal on my command chair. “Flash Fix, how long to heat up the main armament crystal?” I asked.

“Were Ah anypony else, Ah’d say roughly an hour, ma’am,” our lead engineer replied. “But Ah can have it done in half that.”

“In that case, thirty minutes from now, get it warmed up. I want our newer cannons as ready as our conventional ballistae when we get in range,” I ordered, referring to the experimental magic-firing artillery that were powered from a central source and could launch balls of sheer magical force; enough to level a building or punch right through magus shields.

“Aye-aye, ma’am! Half an hour!” The speakers clicked off.

‘Twas only then, as I stared out in the darkness of the sky, the red war moon casting a ominously crimson, blood-like hue over everything, I couldn’t help but wonder if the Admiral was right and whether either we or Epsilon would survive the night.

Brave men rejoice in adversity, just as brave soldiers triumph in war. —Lucius Annaeus Seneca