//------------------------------//
// Second Offensive: 13 - The Power of Song 
// Story: Into the Storm: The Flight of Firefly 
// by Firesight 
//------------------------------//

Dear readers:

‘Twould seem there has been a slight change in plans for this climactic entry, which marks the ending of the third book of this magnum opus. 

Though we did indeed make the trip to Yoke and have already visited the war memorial there—just like Harness Hill, there were not one but two waves of war that wrecked it; once when the Empire invaded and then again three years later when the Equestrian counterattack swept through the area in the Tempest Shadow operation—Lycovenato then asked me politely if he could visit the site of Plexippa’s death.

The site is Outpost Epsilon, of course, though I fear ‘twill be difficult for us to accommodate him. After the war ended and pony weather control was extended into former gryphon lands, the arid area started receiving much more rainfall which is causing the formerly sharply defined canyon to rapidly erode. The plateau the base sat on has already collapsed into the gorge, taking with it the first memorial we placed there not long after the war ended, and methinks ‘tis little point in rebuilding it whilst the area remains unstable.

But our old storm cloud vault remains, set back further from the canyon as it was and made of much more solid stone. As for Princess Plexippa herself, I just realized that I never said what we did with her after she died, which ‘tis certainly an embarrassing oversight on my part.

To make a long story short, we were initially going to preserve her body for the EIS to take possession of along with our two Raven captives, but after it became clear that she had delivered us the Imperial invasion plans and war was imminent, I had no choice but to order her remains incinerated by our healers to deny intelligence on our new potential allies to the gryphons.

I know not how Changelings dispose of their dead, and I profusely apologize to both Lycovenato and Queen Lepidoptes herself if I accidentally desecrated her corpse.


—Firefly






Neigh, Captain. You did exactly what we would have done, as you wouldst perchance understand that we do not—under any circumstances—leave our bodies intact after death, given their mere examination could potentially compromise us.

There is, however, a funeral ritual we have that she was never given; one which I now want to perform myself. So even though I understand perfectly well the difficulties involved, ‘tis still my wish to go there and pay my respects. To both my beloved Plexippa, and the soldiers who saved her from pursuit and later fell in the initial Imperial attack. 

For all we shared and for all she did for me, to say nothing of what she did for all Equestria, methinks I can do no less.


—Lycovenato






Of course, First Sergeant. Methinks I’ve settled on referring to you by your old rank, given ‘tis common to your two names. Methinks I also know only too well the pain of losing your first true love—the one who broke you out of your shell and let you taste love for the first time. Indeed, within two weeks I will journey to Canterlot with my herd to make my annual pre-Hearth’s Warming visit to his war memorial.

In any event, having discussed it with the General and his former soldiers, ‘tis been agreed that we will delay our continued march west to allow for all of us to take a side trip to the former location of Outpost Epsilon. Though ‘twill certainly result in a delay of not just General Rock Biter’s journey but his further recollections of battle, the General himself says that as we have come to visit his old battlefields; ‘tis only fair and fitting that he does the same for us.

‘Tis not just for politeness; he also says ‘tis past time he pays homage to the Corps forces who fought and died. Not just alongside him, but on the frontier and over the course of the entire war; especially given how he tended to “use them up as fast as he received them.”

I have already requested a Royal Navy transport for the purpose and sent a message to Fell Flight in Nova Ocelota, asking if she and Oberon would take time out of their vacation to join us. ‘Tis unlikely to reach her before we depart tomorrow unless the Gryphon Express is truly as fast as they claim, but I will grant them the chance to prove they can do it as their dispatched courier promises.

So, I must disappoint eager readers by announcing that the continuing tale of the retreat down the Harness Highway will have to wait for the next book. But in its place, I offer a different story—one that ‘tis certain I was completely unaware ever happened until ‘twas related to me this morning.

For ‘twould seem that something else occurred after Thunderbolt’s escape that Blindside never informed us of until now. Something surprising, and something that only makes me love her all the more.


—Firefly






Thank you, my former Captain and current herdmate, and greetings to all readers of all races. ‘Tis only the second time I pick up the quill to pen a section of this story, and in this instance, ‘tis to tell a tale that only I may. For I alone remain alive to remember it.

Before I begin, I wish it known that I did not tell you about this for two reasons, Captain: first, I thought at the time you might be infuriated with me for even temporarily setting Thunderbolt free, even though I judged it safe to do so—that he would desire drink and time with his friends far more than he did to slay Gavian at that point.

And second, even after your punishment period ended, we were soon deeply involved in our respective training under Swift Strike and Captain Typhoon, planning for a surprise attack against the Imperial force inbound on sea transports from the Dolphin Islands. To tell you about it then seemed a needless complication, and I did not wish to upset you anew during such a crucial time. Especially when I was in the process of becoming a Lance whilst you were being trained by Captain Typhoon himself!

And after that? Somehow, it just never seemed important; not after Thunderbolt truly became one of us and the Bolt Knights were birthed, leaving our waking hours filled with battle or preparing for them. ‘Tis only with this retelling of the war that I find myself drifting back to that long ago day, when I stood before Captain Typhoon awaiting punishment for my actions.

A day when I decided where my loyalties truly lay, and what was actually worth fighting for.


—Blindside
Proprietor
Dandelion Tea and Coffee Shop
Canterlot






In the end, our ‘unauthorized shore leave’, as Captain Shady had termed it in throwback to the water navies of old, ended up going well past midnight.

Not that I remember much of it after the first couple hours. In truth, I only barely recall Captain Shady and her guards showing up, and ‘tis certain I don’t remember monologuing to her like a theatre villain gleefully describing my plans for world conquest—something Fell Flight will no doubt tease me about endlessly when she gets back. But ‘tis also certain that I was quite pleased with myself for finding the holes in the ship’s security that enabled me to smuggle Thunderbolt out, coming up with an escape plan I thought might do the Black Lances themselves proud.

All of which mattered little as I woke up in the brig late that night in a puddle of vomit with a pounding headache and a very dry throat. I groaned once, gaining the attention of the naval guards. When they saw I was awake, they threw a bucket of cold water on me, dragged me to the infirmary where I was sobered up none too gently by the less-than-happy healers there, and then escorted somewhat roughly to the office of Captain Typhoon himself, still staying in Shady’s quarters as he was.

His aide was present, but she was quickly excused to sleep with a promise that he would be fine despite her weak protests; methinks she was certainly loyal to him if nothing else. Once she had departed, his expression turned baleful as he leveled the full force of his admittedly unnerving glare on me.

“I assume, despite all the drink you had, that you remember what you did?” he opened ominously. ‘Tis worth noting that although I did not know he was wounded then, I would have treated him no differently even if I had.

“Yes, sir,” I said calmly despite my lingering headache and badly rumpled uniform which was stained with ale in places. Methinks if I’d been worried about his reaction and trying to placate him, I would have prefaced the entire statement with ‘sir’ as well. But as things stood, I had already accepted the possible consequences for what I had done, and thus, I did not fear them. Or him. “And before you ask, I am not sorry.”

“Mayhap not yet,” he said in a low voice, getting up and going around the desk to stare me in the eye. ‘Twas certain he was a very intimidating pony when he wanted to be, and I knew full well he could slay me in an instant if he wished. “Your actions endangered both Gavian Ravenoff and our ongoing attempts to win over the Nightborne, had they found out what happened. And for what?” he all but growled. “Speak!”

“For the sake of a stallion who is my mentor—a stallion who needed to be out of that awful infirmary and in the company of those he could relate to! He needed that far more than he did to lie on a table, unable to do anything but dwell on all he had become and lost. You tore him down, sir, potentially sacrificing an innocent life and two other superb soldiers to do it. I accepted the former was necessary despite severe reservations, but not the latter! Methinks you made their duel inevitable, sir!”

“Because Thunderbolt is worth more than all three of them combined to Equestria,” he reminded me again in clipped tones, causing my lip to curl. Not because I thought him wrong, but because he would so callously and casually sacrifice them all on the altar of reclaiming Thunderbolt.

“Only if he is willing to fight. And as of now, he is not. For if you wouldst truly wish to have him back as a usable soldier, you forgot the other half of the equation, sir. You tore him down, but you did nothing to build him back up!” I spat out.

His turquoise eyes narrowed dangerously at my backtalk. “And you think getting him drunk in a pub accomplished that?”

“Yes, sir. I do.” I replied evenly, breaking my bearing to meet his gaze. “Or at least, ‘twas a good start. Perchance you were not told which two ponies he was with, but one was Virga Veil; the only other survivor of the IS-2 Incident. I had my mother contact him and ask him to meet us at the pub. He lost his wing and his memory at that massacre, but ‘tis certain he was the only one who shared Thunderbolt’s pain of losing their friends and future wives,” I explained briefly. Captain Typhoon did not cut me off, but if he had, ‘twas certain I was not going to stop talking until I’d said what I had to say.

“The other pony was, as ‘tis certain you now know, Sergeant Sky Sentry of the Armored Guard. He wanted to be there both for Thunderbolt and himself, because he is mayhap the only other pony in all the Armed Forces who knows exactly what my mentor went through,” I continued, mildly surprised that the Captain had not yet interrupted me.

“For he shared the same awful experience for being the sole survivor of Outpost Delta, and ‘twas thus Thunderbolt’s only true peer. And yet, he was not changed into a soulless slayer afterwards. ‘Twas that fact which I most wanted my mentor to see—that the demon he became ‘twas not an inevitable outcome of his trauma. And from what I can recall from my admittedly hazy memories, he did.”

Typhoon stared at me for several long seconds; to his credit, methinks he was actually considering my words instead of reflexively dismissing them. “And why, by the Sun and Moon, did you not run this… plan of yours past me or Captain Shady instead of smuggling him out of sickbay?” he asked shortly.

“Because time was pressing and I could not risk you saying no, sir. And given what you did to Master Sergeants Fell Flight and Firefly for their perfectly understandable reactions to seeing their son and mentor set against each other, ‘twas far from certain to me that either of you wouldst approve it. So if you wish to haul me before the Mare-At-Arms and whip me as well, feel free, sir. I’ll accept my lashes and take my place in the brig beside the Commander and her second quite gladly.”

His eyes narrowed further at my tone. “You can spare me the sanctimony, Sergeant. I am neither moved by it, nor by your loyalty to your commander, which I am starting to suspect is motivated by something more than mere duty,” he replied acidly, causing my cheeks to flush.

“In any event, your actions were unnecessary and unhelpful, to say nothing of potentially dangerous to our objectives of gaining an alliance with the Nightborne. And since you seem to think that you alone had thought of any of this, know that I was planning to speak with Thunderbolt again after the Lunar Council had departed,” he informed me. “I would have offered him the chance to redeem himself by helping save Equestria with renewed service, appealing to his love for his lost friends.”

“And how would that have worked?” I openly scoffed, taking him aback. “With due respect, Captain, he had no reason to listen to you after you so cruelly crushed him, destroying both his spirit and good name in front of other ponies. Or to fight for you given you showed not the slightest shred of concern for anything but his combat ability! 

“And methinks this is what you fail to understand—that we do not fight for Equestria so much as each other! ‘Tis why I risked my career to help my beloved mentor. ‘Tis why Fell Flight and Firefly reacted the way they did to seeing their son and sponsor set against each other. ‘Tis even why they were willing to kill the other if ‘twould save them,” I spelled it out for him.

“And ‘tis ultimately no different for Thunderbolt—the only thing he has and the only thing he could possibly fight for now are his friends, both old and new! So I gave him one from each. Let him know he was not alone in this world and there were still things worth fighting for—something you did not.”

“Are you quite through?” His voice was ice-cold.

“No sir, I am not,” I answered angrily. “‘Tis certain I have much more to say.”

“You either can be through, or you are through, Sergeant,” he warned me, his tone and the sudden breeze that ruffled my mane silencing me instantly. “Methinks I have indulged you far too much as it is, and the only question that remains to be answered is your punishment,” he said as he began to slowly circle me whilst I continued to stand at slightly swaying attention.

“I could give you over to Captain Shady, but as you remain unrepentant and the message must be sent that soldiers may not take matters into their own wings, I am leaning towards ordering your arrest. I could then pass you off to Sergeant Major Rolling Thunder for court-martial and imprisonment at Corps facilities in Cloudsdale, leaving you here whilst the ship departs with Master Sergeant Firefly and your friends. For methinks the only punishment you wouldst care about is being separated from them,” he guessed, reminding me again that the Captain of the Guard was not only exceptionally strong, but uncommonly perceptive.

Nevertheless, I, too, was unmoved. “As the acting Corps Commander, ‘tis your prerogative to punish me, sir,” I said easily, having already thought of this possibility earlier, and thus how I would answer it. “Though methinks the Lances would be less than pleased to lose one of their latest recruits. Since ‘twould seem you were unaware, I was scheduled to begin instruction at Coltanado in four weeks. And methinks we now need every Black Lance we can get.”

For once, I had the privilege of seeing him caught off-guard as he stopped mid-pace. “The Lances want you?” he asked incredulously, going back in front of me. “And just what, pray tell, would they see in a one-eyed soldier?”

‘Tis certain my grin turned sweet. “Methinks you can ask Sky Sergeant Swift Strike that question, given ‘twas on his recommendation they recruited me, but methinks also that I have a better idea. Perchance you wouldst wish to see what abilities my mentor imparted to me at the Remedial Flyers’ School so many years ago?” I suggested with an increasingly sly smile.

“I propose a simple bet, Captain: Try to take me down with the same strike you used that felled Thunderbolt. If you win, I will accept any punishment given without protest. But if I win, then you will not only let me go without any discipline, but set free Master Sergeants Firefly and Fell Flight. And to make it a fair contest, I will even close my good eye.”

He stared at me in disbelief. “You do not make demands here, Sergeant. But as ‘twould seem you have an outsized opinion of your abilities, methinks I will call this a formal challenge and indulge you. I will not overturn the punishments imposed by Captain Shady, but your other terms are acceptable—if you win, I will not sanction you. Now prepare yourself!” he instructed, and then instead of tensing up, he went perfectly relaxed before me, standing but half a pace in front.

‘Twas how he had defeated Thunderbolt, methinks I only then realized, as being able to strike from such a serene stance made him impossible for even my mentor to predict—unless, that ‘twas, you could read disturbances in the air itself like me. ‘Twas thus that when his left hoof suddenly lashed out—for the record, his initial strike to Thunderbolt’s chin had come from his right—I sensed it a quarter-second before it hit and shifted rapidly right with a quick beat of my wings, causing the blow to glance uselessly off the side of my cheek.

I still felt it, though; ‘twas my first taste of his odd art and ‘tis no lie to say that even an imprecise strike sent a wave of vertigo and nausea through me, not helped by the remnants of my hangover. But I was well-used to dealing with such things and thus ‘twas able to dodge or parry his next two strikes before I counterattacked, slashing towards his throat with a wing like I was armed with a wingblade.

Though visibly surprised—methinks he believed that if Thunderbolt was unable to evade him, then ‘twas certain one of his former students could not!—the Captain then started taking me far more seriously. He blocked his wing with my own—he was wearing blades but did not have them deployed—and his strike jarred me hard as my wing went limp from the paralyzing hit. The end of the duel, if ‘twas what it could be called, was nigh after that as he used his elemental power of wind to pin me in place, and this time his hoof struck towards my forehead, freezing but a fraction of an inch from its furred surface.

He held it there for a moment to make clear he had won. I knew not what it would have done had it connected, at least not until he shortly explained: “Such a strike to your skull would have crippled you, sending you into a coma from which you wouldst not easily awaken,” he informed me, but then lowered his hoof and stepped back.

“Still, I am impressed that you were able to dodge me at all. Even for as stiff as your muscles remain, your anticipation and agility are outstanding. I now understand why the Lances want you, to say nothing of what you meant by Thunderbolt imparting you some of his awareness. ‘Tis not enough against me, but by the terms of the bet, you won by dodging the initial attack, which ‘tis something not even Thunderbolt could do,” he granted grudgingly, going back behind his desk.

It took me a moment to gather my bearings again, finding my body still off-kilter and my wing only slowly starting to respond again after his strikes. “Then may I go, sir?”

Though he took several seconds to answer, he regarded me with more respect this time. “No matter what else you may think of me, I am a stallion of my word. By the terms of the challenge, I thus let you go with no punishment. So kindly depart and do not give me any more reason to summon you, Sergeant. For I promise I will be far less generous if there are further breaches of discipline from you or any other Corps soldiers on this ship.”

“Aye-aye, sir,” I acknowledged in the naval manner, coming to attention and saluting. “And if I may be so bold as to offer the Captain a parting word of advice…?”

“What?” he grated out as he returned the respect with his wing.

“‘Tis not just me who is angry at recent events. Perchance you are unaware, but after what happened to Firefly and Fell Flight, morale is low amongst the Corps troops. If you do not wish for more incidents like this, then I strongly suggest that you find some way to atone for setting the Commander and her second against each other. For we are loyal to them, and I am not the only one who believes you at fault for their fight.”

He stared at me a moment before replying. “I will consider it. Dismissed.”





Such ‘twas the end of our confrontation, which much to my surprise, ended with me unpunished. I emphasize that I had not planned to challenge him upon entering that room, or offer the terms that I proposed.

But quick thinking had always been one of my hallmarks, and to his credit, the Captain did abide by the terms of the brief duel. ‘Twould further seem he listened to me as well by acceding to the offer of throwing a dawn gala, which turned out to be as much for the morale of Corps soldiers as to show the still-reluctant Nightborne what had happened at Epsilon.


—Blindside






‘Twas indeed, though thanks for that feat goes not to the Captain so much as Silver Seax and his four brothers, as the latter half of this chapter will show.

As I finish reading over your entry, ‘twould be an enormous understatement to say that I am greatly touched and impressed, my herdmate. ‘Tis no doubt Fell Flight will be as well, once she reads this—I am sending her your section along with the invitation to join us at the former site of Outpost Epsilon.

Of course, getting her the message is only half the struggle. For knowing her, she is likely sleeping off a booze-fueled brawl at this hour and is having daily hangovers as well as nursing fresh bruises; even this long after the war, methinks she does not truly feel alive unless she is fighting. Perchance in that sense, she is very much Thunderbolt’s successor, but that also means she is lucky to have found a thestral husband who felt the same way.

Before beginning the next section, I wish it known that I wrote Silver Seax, asking if he would like to pen the passages to follow or participate at all in this tale’s telling. ‘Tis not the first time I offered the latter, but he yet again declined, saying that though honored by the request and that they are following our work with keen interest, both he and his brothers believe that their songs and deeds should speak for them. So ‘twill be told through the eyes of Father instead.


—Firefly






Thank you, my daughter. And greetings to all once more as I pen this lengthy passage to come from the Admiral’s quarters at Royal Navy Base Capricorn. ‘Tis one of my favorite places to stay as it overlooks the shipyards of Stalliongrad, where I can clearly see the brand-new EAS Cutlass being readied for a dawn launch tomorrow. 

I am tired, but I am also grateful to finally be here again, carrying out my duties as commanding Admiral once more. I am far from the only one as I see pegasi and earth pony dockworkers swarming over the Cutlass in the evening light, loading supplies and performing their final checks before his crew boards him for the first time.

I am assured he is ready to fly, even if I am not, though I find myself flexing my still-stiff wing constantly in an unending but as-yet fruitless effort to fully loosen it. ‘Tis something my body does automatically now, and I dream of taking flight with increasing frequency as part of me still holds out hope that I will yet be able to.

But I will not bore readers by dwelling on that. If this is to be the last entry in this volume, then I shall make my own contribution to it worthy of its conclusion. 


—Admiral Tailwind
Commanding Admiral, Royal Navy
Royal Navy Base Capricorn
Stalliongrad






EAS Loyalty
Topmost observation deck
Cloudsdale, Central District Airship Anchorage
September 6th, 1139 AC
0545 hours

The eastern horizon was starting to brighten as Silver Seax and his brethren readied themselves to sing on their improvised stage, which was a raised area at the fore of the observation deck from where the Captain or other officers occasionally addressed the crew.

‘Twas an array of seats before them containing the assembled and rather antsy Lunar Council, who methinks had only agreed to attend this offered ‘concert’ out of politeness and diplomatic necessity. ‘Tis certain they were more than ready to leave at this point, and planned to do so within the hour, arriving back in Hollow Shades to debate the question of war and alliance with Equestria before going to bed. 

Despite the best efforts of myself, Captain Typhoon and Captain Shady, I held out little hope that they would join us. Near as I could tell, they were currently split almost perfectly down the middle between those inclined to aid us and those who wanted to remain out of the conflict. 

Their visit to Cloudsdale had perchance swayed a few members, as Shady said before, but simply not enough. Especially if, as I had been told earlier, their rules of governance held that a declaration of war or ratification of a treaty required a full two-thirds of their thirteen Councilbats—at least nine members—to vote aye.

That the treaty they had inked three centuries prior already required them to act was irrelevant to them, as they believed it to be unjustly imposed. Whether true or not, and despite the earlier warnings of Captain Typhoon before the Lunar Council of retribution later if they did not comply, Equestria ultimately had little power to compel their obedience whilst engaged with the gryphons. 

I had already readied their transports for departure despite my admittedly impressive hangover, and before anycreature asks, no, I do not know what happened between me and Shady the previous night. Nor do I wish to; I am loyal to Silent Night to this day. Perchance that is something I have in common with the Changeling known as Lycovenato, as I feel there is simply no other mare for me.

But I digress. I admit, I did not know what possible good simply singing a song could do, even as the Corps soldiers assembled somewhat sullenly behind acting commander Aves Osprey, standing in formation along with an equal number of Nightborne troops and the Loyalty crew. Last to arrive was Captain Typhoon escorting Viceroy Chardonnay, with Total Recall beside and slightly in back of them.

“Attention on deck!” The call came up from the sentries, though the Lunar Council did not do so immediately despite everycreature else leaping to their hooves before them; in the end methinks they only rose for the presence of the Viceroy.

There was a brief speech given by the latter thanking Captain Shady and the crew of the Loyalty for their hospitality, saying that they had been given ‘much to think about’. That they would ‘give the needs of Equestria and the threat the gryphons posed’ due consideration in their coming deliberations, promising a decision that was ultimately in the interest of both nations.

Though tactfully stated, I sincerely doubted that would be the case, and ‘tis certain I was far from the only one as his words were met with no applause from either side. Captain Typhoon then rose to speak only briefly, thanking the Nightborne for sheltering Cloudsdale and all the aid they had rendered, but also reminding them pointedly that there was but one decision they could make that would be in the interests of both sides. 

He left it there, then asked Captain Shady to introduce the band. They were now clad in dark blue enlisted uniforms bearing two stripes, having all been given brevet ranks of Starpony Apprentice—just one step above the lowest naval rank of Starpony Recruit. 

In truth, I had seen little of them lately. They had been spending most of their time below decks, being gradually introduced by Flash Fix and others to the various shipcrafts they needed to know. They had shorn their blonde manes to military length but had not fully shaved their beards, reducing them to short-clipped fur that were still quite visible against the backdrops of their paler faces. 

Beards were normally not allowed in the Royal Navy, but methinks Shady let it go only because she typically allowed all the crew a single indulgence outside regulations to match her own—her namesake dark spectacles.

The oldest brother then stepped up to the broadcast crystal before him, causing his voice to boom throughout the ship. ‘Twas even loud enough to be heard in the surround, with the heads of early-rising civilian ponies flying about pausing their activities and turning towards the airship. 

“Greetings to our Aerial Corps, Royal Navy and Nightborne friends alike. For those who do not know us, my name is Silver Seax, and these are my brothers, in arms if not always in blood—Burnished Broadaxe, Tiger Tomahawk, Metal Mattock, and Masakari Mace,” he introduced each in turn, to which the named pony stepped forward and nodded briefly. I admit I was momentarily startled by the statement—I had thought they were all brothers from the same family, but as I would later learn, they were only from the same village and, with two exceptions, were at most distantly related cousins. 

“We originally joined the soldiers of Outpost Epsilon nine months ago, assigned there as a civilian work crew to help rebuild and maintain the base. ‘Twas our first time away from home, and though ‘twas hard for us being around so many pegasi in a desert instead of the fellow earth ponies of our forested village, we eventually found our place and made friends there, fighting alongside them as not just civilians but soldiers when the gryphons invaded. That is how we know what occurred there. And that is what we will now show you,” he promised, to which a few quickly shushed cheers from the Corps troops came up. 

He paused long enough to smile and nod over our heads at them. “We dedicate our performance to not only our three lost brothers—Heavy Hurlbat, Long Labrys and Steel Sagaris—but to all the Corps and Naval troops who fell in battle that awful first day of war. We further offer this concert in the interests of morale and mutual understanding between Equestria and Thestralslovakia,” he announced, to which I noticed some sneers from the Lunar Council; ‘tis no doubt there were some eyerolls under their dark goggles as well. 

Silver Seax, who was not only the oldest of the group but their unofficial leader, smirked unpleasantly at the reaction. “Methinks I understand that there are those present who may doubt the story of our survival and escape from Outpost Epsilon. Viewed from afar, ‘tis truly a fanciful tale that ‘twould seem to have sprung from the mind of a young foal, or mayhap ‘twas little more than a repackaged mythical battle of old meant to woo a new ally. 

“Well, we are here to not just say to ye but show ye that what happened there was very real, as is the threat our two nations now face. So doubt me if ye wish, but know that all ye are about to experience is real. Was real.” He then turned to his brothers and nodded, who closed their eyes and readied their instruments to play. They looked like they were concentrating somehow; I had the strange impression that they were summoning forth some form of internal magic to aid them.

“So to begin, methinks I will tell you what I remember. As not a soldier, but just a civilian worker present that day…” Silver Seax started to say, pausing long enough for the backmost member of the band—Metal Mattock?—to begin playing his drums in a crescendo of sound that got everycreature’s attention. It trailed off to leave a lingering rumble in the air; one that was somehow sensed within our very souls.




SABATON - Diary Of An Unknown Soldier (Official Lyric Video)





“I remember Outpost Epsilon, on the morning of September First. And ‘tis certain the sounds of that day will haunt me for all my life.” He turned downcast for a moment and closed his eyes, looking like he was both steeling himself and summoning forth his own spirit.

“Lightning fire from our storm teams…” One of his brothers produced a series of rolling and rhythmic thunderclap sounds with his drums, which I quickly realized were meant to establish a beat for their entire band.

“The sickening sound of a wingblade slicing through metal and flesh…” Silver Seax continued as a second brother began slapping two borrowed blades against each other, producing the distinctive ring of clashing steel in time with the first sound.

“The unicorn healers beside me firing their longbows in desperation…” This time, a third brother simply began plucking the loosened string of a borrowed naval crossbow to produce the sound, which meshed instantly and quite neatly with the two previous ones.

“Now watch and listen, dear friends of the Solar and Lunar nations alike, as all these sounds come together as music,” he invited, picking up his stringed instrument to wield in both forehooves. “A rhythm of rage… a symphony of sheer savagery…”

Suddenly a fresh crescendo was heard and a sensation I could only describe as a mixture of electricity and magic was coursing through the air, causing the skin beneath my fur to prickle and the short-cut hairs of my mane to stand on end.

And then they began to sing.




SABATON - The Lost Battalion (Official Lyric Video)






On the frontier
We fought with no fear
We stood strong
And our legend will live on!


A powerful martial melody suddenly erupted from their instruments and the air itself seemed to distort as a massive amount of magic collected around them, flowing inward towards the five stallions. I knew not what was happening—I’d certainly felt the touch of Harmony before, having joined the chorus when Sky Sentry was singing of his sorrow following our escape from Epsilon. But this…

I had little time to come up with an explanation of these events as Silver Seax launched into the song, singing into a loudspeaker crystal as he played his stringed instrument, his blue eyes shining bright beneath his golden mane.


First September,
The war begins at dawn
A Corps battalion is trapped at Epsilon


Suddenly the magic they had summoned seemed to coalesce into a depiction of the Outpost as it was the morning of the invasion. But ‘twas no mere projection, as our crystal viewfinder screens on the bridge might show. ‘Twas literally all around us, as if we were there directly. ‘Twas a completely immersive experience as we didn’t just see it, we heard it! We felt it. We even smelled it, from the arid dust in the air to the sweat of Commander Firefly’s forces, readying themselves for battle as dawn broke over the border desert.


Far outnumbered,
There's no way we can win
Our time is short
And our fate is growing grim


We saw them surrounded by a full cohort of Imperial Talons, demanding the surrender of the Outpost, to which Firefly ordered them to leave or die. The request was declined, and the battle for Outpost Epsilon began.


Causing heavy losses
As we’re fighting to the last
Epsilon's battalion standing fast!


The clash unfolded before us in vivid and quite bloody detail, causing the Nightborne soldiers and Lunar Councilbats to visibly flinch. They cast their frightened gazes about in confusion or outright terror at the brutal battle literally unfolding all around them; crossbow and lightning bolts flying in every direction as freshly created corpses rained down from the skies. Through it all the Corps troops and even Captain Typhoon stood transfixed with their jaws agape, the former seeing their own memories replayed before them. 

And even though Silver Seax and his brothers did not stop playing or singing, we somehow saw the entire course of the battle played out in our minds. It ended with the Talons not just beaten but utterly thrashed by the well-trained and vastly faster Corps troops, turned into elite soldiers as they were by Firefly and Fell Flight.

Within seconds it was over. The surviving gryphons fled across the canyon with their first attack shattered; the scene shortly shifted to show the Corps soldiers only briefly savoring their triumph before resuming their patrols. 


Defending our land
As we made our stand
We disregard the demand
To surrender or die
With the stakes so high
We fight or we fall
We would heed duty's call
With blade, axe and bow
Did we fight our foe
We never would be laid low
Facing Talons and Knights
We won all our fights
Awaiting rescue
Can the Navy get through?


The lyrics themselves only took seconds to sing, and yet, the entire day was somehow replayed before us in that time; the stanza ended with a scene of the Loyalty’s battlegroup lifting off from Royal Navy Base Capricorn in Stalliongrad and turning to the east, towards Epsilon. Even before that, we saw the Outpost hemmed by hundreds of additional Talon soldiers and gold-armored Knights, massing for a fresh strike on the understrength Aerial Corps base. 

But this time, encouraged by reports of a surprise spoiling attack launched by Outpost Gamma that annihilated another Talon cohort, the Outpost made plans for their own such strike and launched it, first filling their base and the canyon beside it with fog to hide their intentions. They then struck the gryphon marshall area with a very cleverly designed two-pronged hit-and-fly attack. It held the attention of the Imperial soldiers on the lead force winging in directly from Epsilon, whilst a second force snuck low through the fog-filled canyon to hit them from behind. 

I sensed my heart rate speed up further as it worked, and I felt a moment of fierce pride in my daughter for coming up with such a brilliant strategy. It might have been followed by pain at the memory of why she was not at my side now, but I had little chance to dwell on it as the sun abruptly set over the song-fueled vision, showing the base now hemmed by over a thousand gryphons. 

The scene then shifted anew to show Firefly, Fell Flight, Blindside and others meeting the Imperials for parlay just outside of the fog, where the latter again demanded their surrender. 


Darkness falling,
Our time is dwindling low
A bloody end,
It was promised by our foe


The meeting ended quickly with the Imperial ultimatum refused, with the highlight being how a larger and menacing Fell Flight clearly intimidated the eagless Tribune that was the gryphon commander. 

The ranking Fortis Knight in her parlay party was not afraid, however, as he stepped forward to goad Firefly and then even exchange a few words with an angry Gavian. The latter was wearing borrowed and blue-painted Talon armor; when he appeared in the vision methinks I very nearly ran out to pull him back from confronting the much larger earth gryphon. 

All this passed through my amazed mind in but seconds as the next stanza was sung to describe the third and most crucial battle of the base’s survival; one it fought whilst we were still hours away:


Midnight comes and
The gryphons strike again!
Create a storm, and
Then fight back from within!


As we watched, the Corps used their cavern-stored storm cloud cache to build the massive supercell we had seen even from afar on our approach. It swiftly turned into a twisting, writhing, lightning-charged mass of pure death they then suicidally fought the Imperials beneath despite the extreme danger, trying to buy enough time for the gryphons to be lured to where a storm-generated tornado could smash them. Which it did despite heavy losses to the Corps forces; they just made it back to their storm cloud cavern redoubt before the monstrous twister swept their base and pulled many centuries of enemy soldiers to their deaths.

‘Twas only then I remembered the Nightborne were present, and with some effort I focused through the visions on them. Several had fallen out of their seats whilst others looked like they wanted to flee the horrific vision of combat and storm-caused carnage; General Starry Skies was standing on his hind legs and wielding four whirling blades as pony and gryphon soldiers alike passed him doing battle; more than once he took a strong swipe at the latter, only to find air.


Chose not to surrender,
Chose to fight for all we loved!
Chose to make our end
Be paid in blood!


The battle ended with the storm cloud vault doors sealed by the strength of the then-six earth pony brothers. They had been seen earlier fighting the gryphons as infantry when the latter broke into the cavern with diamond dog aid, only to find it empty of all but the outpost’s unicorn healers and civilian stallions. They were supported by the two non-flying Celestial Guardsponies, along with Gavian and Swift Strike.

A pitched battle followed that was won in large measure thanks to Swift Strike and Still Way; the former single-hoofedly wounded two Fortis Knights and cleared the incursion tunnels whilst the latter defeated two Imperial mages at once. 

But the martial feats did not end there as to my great pride, Gavian took on a third Fortis Knight in single combat and triumphed; the defeat of the incursion meant the outside Corps troops fighting beneath the storm kept their redoubt and could retreat there when the tornado descended. 

Though momentarily safe, the remnants of the Epsilon battalion were left battered and bled dry from fighting in such severe weather; their numbers dramatically and quite tragically reduced to half-strength. Methinks the Nightborne had seen more than enough at that point and a few were cowering, all but pleading for the bloody but somehow mercilessly inescapable history lesson to end. But the brothers weren’t done yet.


Far from our home
As we stood alone
We refused again the demand
To surrender or die
With the stakes so high
Our honor shone through
As we stood strong and true
We could not last long
But we vowed to fight on
Even when warned none would know
The bloodstained red sand
Of our final stand
Could Battle Group Four
Come and yet save the Corps?


We saw a vision of the surviving Aerial Corps soldiers gathered in groups around a few firegems to share their final dregs of food and drink. They were resigned to their fate but still resolute, wanting only to take a few more Imperial soldiers with them before they died. 

But as the final two lines of the stanza were sung, the scene shifted to show the Loyalty Battlegroup making its final turn from the gryphon side of the border after its wide sweep around the northern end of the frontier, finally inbound towards the base.


Our fortunes did turn
Yet still did we spurn
The Gryphon Empire demands
To surrender or die
With the stakes so high
We would die,
So we said
Our last goodbyes


We felt as much as heard the explosions coming from outside the cavern as the gryphons readied for their dawn attack on the chamber, which the depleted Corps battalion now had little chance of resisting. But they nonetheless prepared themselves for one final fight, which they—and we—knew they would not survive without help.


Exhausted and done
At the rise of sun
We soon would be overrun
We were now falling fast,
To be slain to the last
When airships
Appeared to the gryphon rear


The storm cloud vault was quickly breached by centuries of Knights and dozens of Ravens. They proceeded to skillfully and quite savagely slaughter the surviving Corps soldiers, who were simply not as fresh or swift as they had been a day before. 

Methinks ‘twas only then the Lunar Council finally understood that Captain Typhoon had not been lying when he told them that the Empire could take on elite soldiers and defeat them, for they had more than a few of their own. The Ravens were terrifying—’tis no other word for it; I suddenly realized how incredibly lucky we’d been on the bridge not to face them when the gryphons broke in—whilst the Knights were very much the shock troops we’d been told, as they simply smashed or slashed aside all opposition, rapidly reducing the Corps force.

Worse, my guts clenched when Firefly took a direct lightning strike from an Imperial mage who hovered just outside the vault. It knocked her hard to the ground and left her looking lifelessly out the open vault door as Gavian and several others struggled to defend her for just a few more moments, knowing their end was nigh. 

And then the sun rose over the canyon just as dawn broke over the Loyalty for real, to reveal…


A hundred soldiers fallen
But in the end
The Corps stood tall!
Epsilon's battalion
Withstood all!


What we saw next seemed to be from Firefly’s point of view as the sun was suddenly eclipsed by the shape of the Loyalty moving in front of the storm cloud vault entrance; I felt a fierce swell of pride as my beloved ship’s guns then opened up on the griffons, crushing their grounded formations that were still waiting to enter the cavern.

Methinks what followed needed little explanation, but Silver Seax gave it anyway as the Nightborne watched spellbound whilst the Naval and Corps troops behind us had taken flight and entered combat formations, perchance seeking to assist the battle again.


The Loyalty arrived
To the Gryphon surprise
The Duty and Vigil at his sides
They crushed the attack;
They drove the Knights back
The Navy was true
As they made their rescue!


We saw half our air wing enter the cavern and clear it of enemy soldiers before making contact with the stunned Corps troops. Shaking off their shock and exhaustion, they began to obey orders to evacuate, but got interrupted by a duel I’d only barely heard about between the lead Fortis Knight and the Celestial Guardspony named Stormrunner—so that was where he’d gotten his ugly wound!—that the latter lost. 

But to my great consternation, ‘twas promptly followed by a second challenge initiated by Gavian to the much larger earth gryphon, who he proceeded to best in stunning and quite skillful fashion, making me wish he could see this.

The scene then shifted to outside, where all three ships fought off the invading gryphon Talons—except one.


Boarded and lost,
His crew inflicted high cost
The Duty bought time for our friends
With Epsilon aboard,
We escaped the sword!
The Battalion was saved,
The Navy broke the blockade!


The doomed Duty was shown sacrificing himself in a massive magical explosion that took a century of gryphons with him. The sight caused myself and all the naval crew ponies to stand at attention and rigidly salute; there were tears in my eyes as I remembered the stricken ship’s final transmission. 

But then the song abruptly ceased and the visions we were experiencing suddenly cleared from our minds along with the magic that had been suffusing the very air around us. I realized only then that I was sweating and shaking violently, my good wing splayed; a glance to my right showed that Captain Shady was equally affected, and even Captain Typhoon looked stunned at what he’d just seen. 

The Nightborne themselves were alternately cowering, crying, taking a battle pose or just staring in sheer awe at Silver Seax and his band, who were now breathing heavily from their own exertions. But the bearded earth pony shook off his sudden fatigue to step over to the knocked-over crystal speaker stand and pick it back up, talking into it once more.

“That is what happened at Epsilon. And anycreature, whether bat or pony, who still doubts these events will be challenged by me and my brothers. We lost three of our kindred there, whilst the Corps lost over one hundred twenty of their finest. They were not just our friends, but comrades in arms, and we will not abide any slander of their sacrifice.” He looked pointedly at a shaking Councilor Corvis, who I had learned long before usually responded to those who told him something he didn’t like with sneering doubts or insults. But this time, he could not summon any spite and had to look away.

“We hope you have enjoyed this performance. For those curious, ‘tis a talent that runs throughout our clan’s entire extended line, to bring shared memories and past events to life through song. ‘Tis our offering to both sides, so that we may understand each other—and our mutual foe—better. I apologize to those who found this experience overwhelming, but war spares nocreature or nation. And I hope our honored guests from the Lunar Council understand now that the gryphons can not only beat you, but that they will not spare you.”

The Lunar Council and Nightborne soldiers had no reply as the Corps and Naval troops suddenly broke out into hoofstomping cheers. And when they died down, one of the Nightborne civilians—an aide to the Viceroy I’d met only briefly—approached the band. He looked dizzy and sweaty, his starched collar loose and webbed wings twitching.

He then spoke to Silver Seax in fluent Equish, bowing low before him like he was royalty. “I am Europa Universalis IV, junior aide to Viceroy Chardonnay. Methinks I doubted this tale, but I do no longer! You have inspired me to take up this fight, sir. And I hope the rest of my brethren as well!”

Silver Seax dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart, brave and noble Nightborne. But please do not bow to me. For I am no Princess; my brothers and I are merely humble bards.” He offered his hoof to bump instead.

Europa Universalis did so eagerly, then turned to the Captain of the Royal Guard, standing to passable attention before him. “Captain Typhoon! Regardless of the Lunar Council’s decision, I wish you to know that I volunteer for service with the Equestrian military. As ‘tis now clear to me that the gryphons must be fought and defeated, I refuse to be a simple record keeper any longer!” 

His declaration broke the ice as he was shortly joined by a single, then several, then several dozen Nightborne soldiers from the platoon they’d brought on board. Having already donned their curious dual-bladed hoofstrikers during the song to see all the combat around them, they raised them high to the sky in screeing cheers as they offered their own soldier services.

Typhoon considered him for a moment, then smiled. “I will be more than happy to grant your request, young Nightborne scribe. But I ask that you not join just yet. Methinks your Lunar Council will need your services this bright morn as they decide on their course of action to come…”





Thank you for recounting this concert, Father, as neither myself nor Fell Flight could do so fully from inside our cells. 

Which is not to say we didn’t experience it. We in fact both heard and saw the performance in our mind’s eye; witnessing everything you did as simple wood and metal did not attenuate the magical influence, even from three decks below. From what we later heard, in fact, everycreature within a mile or so of the music was affected, and even those further out saw a series of visions they could not explain.


—Firefly






There was, of course, no doubt of the veracity of the events to me and Fell Flight as we saw our own memories replayed before us. I could not see her in the cell beside me, but I had to stand up despite my pain just to take it all in, soaking it up like a sponge. The song had only barely ended before I found myself suddenly feeling far better, reminded of what we had accomplished—the major battles my battalion and the Navy had already won, to the great cost of the Gryphons.

And for the first time since we had been thrown into the cells whipped and wounded, I called to her. “Fell Flight?”

“Commander?” she automatically replied; from the height her voice originated, I realized she was standing as well.

I hesitated before speaking, still feeling unworthy of the title. “We did well at Epsilon, didn’t we?” ‘Twas mayhap a self-evident question, but I needed to hear its answer from another.

“We did very well, ma’am,” her voice came back, quite reverent at the song and vision we had witnessed. “And methinks we worked well together, too.”

“I want to go back to that,” I told her. “Back to being friends.”

“So do I, ma’am,” she replied sadly; mayhap the guards might have objected to us talking except they seemed too dazed to do so after their own experience with the Harmony-powered song. “Given how badly my wounds burn, methinks I much prefer being friends to enemies.”

“I’m sorry,” I told her, looking away from where she was. “‘Twas my fault for refusing to see how much your mentor meant to you.”

“‘Twas mine as well,” she replied, “for not understanding how much it hurt you to see Gavian forced to fight him. We were both foals, and we bear the scars to prove it. So what do we do now?” she asked me.

“We serve out our sentences and start over,” I decided, sitting back down on the wooden floor. “Be the exemplary soldiers Captain Typhoon expects and Equestria needs. The commander and second we were meant to be.”

“I would like that,” Fell Flight replied, then I saw her reach out her damaged hoof through the bars adjacent to my cell—I’d managed to slice it right through her hoofstriker at one point during our duel; as a result it still bore a lurid scar. “Friends?”

“Friends,” I answered, and then I grasped her hoof in my own, not letting it go until the guards rousted themselves enough to tell us to stop.





Looking back, ‘twas not one but two alliances born that day. One, of course, was the Nightborne allying with Equestria. The other was Fell Flight and myself reforging a friendship that would not only survive the war but the three decades since; a friendship that ‘tis certain will last to our dying days.

Though our sentries did not like it, we passed the time of our remaining confinement by discussing plans for when we retook command. We constantly bounced ideas for new tactics and training off each other, including and most especially how to bring the Naval air wing up to Corps levels of ability rapidly, given it seemed unlikely that we would stay on the Loyalty indefinitely. We also did what we could to exercise in our confines once our wounds allowed it, competing in contests of wing-ups and wind generation instead of mortal combat.

We were right about leaving the Loyalty, though methinks neither of us had any idea that our futures would not involve the Corps at all, or that Fell Flight herself would shortly join me in the Royal Guard once a new Corps commander took over from Captain Typhoon.

Speaking of whom, I fear his legacy may be slightly tarnished by the story of the duel and what happened after. So I wish it known that I bear him no ill will. There are many reasons for this, but chief among them is that Gavian reveres him, both for saving him and then enabling him to defeat Thunderbolt. For winning what some in the Kingdom say is the greatest duel in all of gryphon history, he does not in the least regret what the Captain did for him, even for the painful and lingering price he paid after.

Whatever its flaws, the Captain’s plan to salvage Thunderbolt ultimately worked, and ‘twas far from his only accomplishment in the conflict. He helped bring not just the thestrals into the war on the Equestrian side, but also another, even more powerful ally in time. And as fate would foretell, he would be the last in a long line of trainers and mentors for me that started with Windshear and included both my mother and Swift Strike.

‘Tis a legacy of selfless service that included a willingness to make difficult decisions, to say nothing of his mastery of an ancient and nearly-unrivaled combat art that he would eventually teach to me.

But all that lay past the end of our punishment period, which Fell Flight and I very much wish to skip. So do not be surprised if we are heard from little in the opening chapters of the next volume. The initial focus will instead remain on both the Equestrian Army on the retreat to Detrot, and the Nightborne as they readied themselves for war.

And also on the Royal Navy as Luna’s service prepared to reenter the conflict, tasked with fighting not one but two foes on opposite sides of Equestria.


—Firefly


As you say, Captain. ‘Tis certain I had my own issues with Typhoon during his stay, but ‘twas no denying all he accomplished in that short time. He made difficult and even unpopular decisions, but ‘twas always for Equestria’s benefit, and not his own.

‘Tis now mid-morning as I write this. I wish all present to know that Admiral Tailwind has gotten to witness the launch of the EAS Cutlass, which despite the best efforts of all, did experience some initial issues. 

His speed and maneuverability means that his crew must use a somewhat delicate touch with him, as he seems prone to rocking or tipping in flight. But fear not, Admiral—‘tis merely his first voyage, and ‘tis certain we will correct the flaws that inevitably accompany a new ship design in due course. 


—Commodore Shady






As unlikely as it sounds, the next four hours on board the Loyalty following the surprising song were spent in pure party.

The opening act of the concert was concluded, but even if it could not be topped, there was great demand for more songs. Silver Seax and his brothers obliged as best they could, offering up some of their older ballads speaking of battles with the forces of King Sombra and The Overmare from their native Swheaten’s past. Later, they even came up with some new and quite rousing martial melodies on the spot to great acclaim. 

‘Twas a time of celebration and remembrance of events at Epsilon shared by not just the Corps troops and Naval crew, but by the Nightborne soldiers as well; before long even curious Cloudsdale civilians were joining in, invited aboard to mingle with us on the various decks of the ship. Better yet, the galley outdid themselves in coming up with various festival foods on the fly whilst Flash Fix, who had stood at rigid attention beside me in utter awe during the entire Harmony-charged performance, pulled out a keg of Lunar moonshine from his secret still and offered it up to all—with my permission, of course.

I gave it gladly—for how could I deny my crew and the soldiers of both nations this sorely-needed respite from war?—but did not have any myself, having had far too much drink the night before. 

Our soldiers sparred with the thestrals, who demonstrated how they fought for the first time with double-bladed hoofstrikers in place of wingblades and very advanced crossbows that they could reload quickly, even in the air. I regret that they could defeat most of my air wing easily but not the Corps troops, though to their credit they held their own even against the well-trained remnants of the Epsilon battalion. Food was shared, stories were swapped, and before long, both sides seemed to have fully bonded under the morning sun, though there did come a time that the Nightborne needed to sleep.

The Lunar Council did not partake in any of this, however, though a still-stunned General Starry Skies gave his blessing for his soldiers to participate in the party. Methinks ‘twould be an enormous understatement to say both he and all members of the Council were impressed by what they saw. Methinks speechless at the display of raw music and magical talent might be a better way to say it.

Even so, ‘twas not enough for them, as they then conducted their own investigation of the events at Epsilon whilst escorted by Captain Typhoon and myself. They first asked to interview surviving Corps soldiers and even some members of our air wing, gunnery teams and bridge crew to confirm what they saw was real. When that was done, they next requested to visit Gavian in sickbay, some out of simple curiosity to meet an actual gryphon after seeing him duel Centurion Neal in the vision, but methinks more for wishing to know why he fought for Equestria.

After checking with the healers, who only allowed it on the condition that they kept their time with him brief, he answered all their questions even as he lay fallow on a cot, trying valiantly to hide the pain he was still in. When they asked him directly why he sided against his own race, he replied emphatically that he had not.

He explained instead that he had sided against the Empire, which had forsaken not just him but the noble heritage of gryphons. That he fought it because after all he had seen and experienced, it had been amply proven to him that it was neither honorable nor worthy of his race.

Having heard his fervent declaration of loyalty to Equestria and stated love for his ‘mother’, methinks ‘twas only then the Lunar Council understood what had caused the duel between Fell Flight and Firefly they had witnessed. And mayhap that in turn led them to seek out Thunderbolt and his side of the story in the next room over. Though methinks he was still quite hungover, he obliged them as well, explaining in blunt terms what horrors had happened to him at the IS-2 settlement, and again at Cloudsdale on the first day of war.

“I know not what the Empire offered you, but for the sake of us all, do not accept it. For no matter what they may tell you, take it from me that neither the Empire nor its agents can be trusted,” he told them directly. “Methinks I learned that the hard way twelve years ago, when they betrayed my former commander to annihilate an entire village along with my disarmed unit. And then again five days ago here in Cloudsdale, when they yet again struck without warning to slaughter civilians and soldiers alike.”

When asked directly if he still thought Gavian Ravenoff deserved to die, he paused before replying in a perchance non-committal manner that ‘twas clear to him that the Gods themselves had chosen the young tiercel as the gryphon champion. “Methinks our contest was not of individuals or nations, but races. By besting me in a battle of blades and wits when I had sworn their race’s destruction, he won the right of all gryphons to live,” he told them quietly, then politely requested they leave him alone again, as he had much to think about.

‘Twas a grudging admission, but an admission I nonetheless never dreamt I’d hear from him, leaving me wondering if Captain Typhoon’s plan might yet work.

Their final stop was the brig to interview Firefly and Fell Flight. The still-wounded pair stood to slightly trembling attention whilst profusely apologizing for what they had done, each taking full responsibility for the whole ugly affair over the objections of the other. But with the full story of their relationships to Thunderbolt and Gavian now explained, ‘twas far more clear to the Lunar Council what they had gone through and just why they were so willing to fight over their son and mentor, especially to the parents of the group.

“‘Twere it my two daughters endangered? Methinks I would have reacted no differently than she,” Colonel Aegir Ale decided with a respectful nod towards Firefly, now wearing her formal uniform for the visit of the Lunar Council. And for those wondering why she was not heard from much after our arrival at Cloudsdale, she had been pulled from the ship soon after our shared dinner. 

‘Twas so she could be interviewed and investigated by a succession of officers, most notably General Starry Skies himself regarding her role in uncovering the plot of Major General Muscadine and helping the Loyalty reach Cloudsdale. I had heard little about that since, but I assumed that if she was here again, then the General was favorably disposed to her.

In the end, the Council spent more time talking with Fell Flight than Firefly, methinks wanting to make sure the former wasn’t secretly an agent of the Highborne sent to subvert them. General Starry Skies congratulated her somewhat grudgingly on how well she had borne up under her lashes, to which the former and future Master Sergeant replied somewhat shortly that she hadn’t done it only for his benefit. She said that as her mentor had endured far worse physical and emotional pain over the course of his life, she could not call herself his protégé if she gave into her own.

And when asked about her mixed heritage, she replied that though her lineage was all pegasus for as far as it could be traced and the origin of her eyes was unknown, she was ultimately loyal to her friends, family and the Equestrian nation, not to a High Priestess or mountain homeland she had neither seen nor visited—a land she’d barely even heard about before the Nightborne saw her and started calling her ‘Highborne’ as a slur.

Her answers seemed to satisfy them. They also seemed intrigued that she could see clearly and painlessly in daylight, though some Nightborne suggested ‘twas sacrilegious that she did anything to modify ‘the sacred gaze of Princess Luna’s servants’. To which Fell Flight replied that her enhanced eyes gave her the ability to thrive under Celestia’s Sun as well as Luna’s Moon, making her a rare creature that straddled both worlds. She also stated that it made her an excellent soldier; one that the gryphon raider gangs had feared even before the war began.

And so it went. By the time they were done, ‘twas nearly 10 AM, which was well into their usual sleep schedule when the Lunar Council finally elected to retire. But not to their rooms, or even back to Hollow Shades as they had originally planned. Instead, they asked to borrow my stateroom to debate what they had learned and the question of war they had been putting off for days.

We knew not what was being said in the soundproofed chamber, as we respected their need to discuss the matter privately; the only admittance we were given was when their aide and future Viceroy Europa Universalis IV emerged with various requests. Once was for food and drink that would keep them alert, whilst another time he requested copies of Thestralslovakia’s three-century old treaty with Equestria. Later, he even asked that Typhoon’s two Celestial Guardsponies formally testify before them regarding what kind of pony and ruler Princess Celestia really was.

‘Twas little we could do but await their decision whilst the party abovedeck continued, though methinks I truly believed that given they were holding their council meeting here on board the Loyalty, ‘twas but a foregone conclusion what they would choose. 

I would not be disappointed. ‘Twas but two hours later and not long before noon that the Lunar Council emerged, looking tired but resolute. ‘Twas perchance fittingly under the height of Celestia’s sun that they gave Captain Typhoon a formal document written in excellent script, signed by the Viceroy and all members of their Lunar Council.

Whatever had happened behind closed doors, the Nightborne had chosen their side, as by a vote of 12-0—with one abstention; to this day I know not who since they signed their name to the document anyway—they decided to uphold their treaty commitments.

The document itself was then read aloud by Captain Typhoon over the ship’s magical speakers for the entire crew, who were still in a very good mood following the dawn concert and morning festival; the words it contained elicited cheers from inside and outside the ship.

‘Twas Thestralslovakia’s formal ratification of alliance with Equestria, and accompanying Declaration of War on the Gryphon Empire.





Thank you for your well-practiced quill, Commodore, and for all the passages you have penned in this long volume. 

‘Tis Firefly speaking again. And thus does the third book of this recounting conclude with Equestria gaining a powerful new ally. I say that with no offense intended to the selfless sacrifices of Queen Lepidoptes and her Changelings on Equestria’s behalf, but at that point in the conflict, we desperately needed additional airborne soldiers and Army divisions more than a few infiltrators to help pass us intelligence. In winning over the Nightborne, we gained both, instantly making good our losses from the first week of war and granting Equestria a very strong night-fighting capability.

Methinks of all the actions we and the Equestrian Army fought that terrible and oft disastrous first week following the invasion, the campaign to gain their favor ‘twas the one battle we needed to win above all others. For without it, ‘tis very likely the war would have ended differently, though methinks the Lunar Council had no idea then what wrath their decision would soon bring down upon them.

For we were as yet unaware that the gryphons had gained a new ally of their own, and their entry into the war would soon tear Thestralslovakia asunder, subsuming her in a storm of gryphon, dragon, and Highborne soldiers alike.

But for me, I felt an odd serenity as I continued to lay in my cell, my whip wounds still aching. For what was there now for me to be upset about? We had survived the first week of war despite long odds. My son lived. The Nightborne were now our allies. Fell Flight and I were even friends again, and perchance better understood how deep each other’s loyalty to our loved ones truly went.

Mayhap ‘twas but the lingering afterglow of the magical concert, but somehow, I sensed that everything would be all right. That the Empire would not defeat us, and that Equestria would yet live. But as this recounting of war has now exceeded well over four hundred thousand words, methinks our publisher is getting a bit exasperated, given she originally thought that such would be the length of the entire war trilogy. And yet, here we now sit but a single week into the war and still have so far to go.

So ‘tis at her insistence that we will terminate this tome here and begin a new one later. That way, this work may be reproduced in full for civilians and soldiers the world over to examine and, if not enjoy, then at least understand what happened in those frantic first few days of war. ‘Tis a tale of triumph and defeat, love and loss, and the desperate efforts of a surprised and reeling Equestria to stave off defeat long enough for our true strength to tell.

‘Twould still be a very long time until that day arrived, of course. But as the pony nation recovered from its initial shock and began to ready itself for a long and bitter war, the process was already underway. 

From the foundries and shipyards of Stalliongrad beginning the production of war materiel to the ponies swarming to Equestrian Army and Aerial Corps recruiting stations; from the rapid rush of existing Army and Corps troops to the front to the newly-ordered expansion of the Royal Navy, which had proven its worth many times over during the past week when competently led and equipped, the pony nation was mobilizing. 

Despite their initially severe losses, the Equestrian armed forces were already beginning to rally and grow, and all the service branches would play their part in the nation’s defense. The Navy’s role would be especially crucial in the conflict to come, and even with only a single scratch battlegroup available at first, Luna’s service would be called on very heavily in the weeks and months ahead.

I offered the final word in this volume to Ambassador Kaval again, who remains in the Gryphon Kingdom for the time being. But he has declined, saying that as he concluded the original entry, ‘tis only fair and fitting that I do so myself for this one. So ‘tis time to put the publisher’s seal on this document before sending it out; I will do so with a parting toast to our lost friends, lovers and comrades in our old Epsilon storm cloud vault tomorrow.

I thank all readers for following this enormous undertaking, and all those who have contributed to it. Methinks it has rekindled interest in the conflict among both those who fought in it and the younger generation who did not experience it. And yet, instead of simply reopening old wounds, it seems to have oft helped salve them, strengthening the bonds of both old and new.

Thanks especially goes to Princess Celestia for originally requesting this work and convincing me to write it when I was reluctant, telling me that ‘twas for the sake of history and to help heal the wounds of war. You were right as always, My Princess, and I thank you as well for your own occasional contributions to this work.

For those disappointed to see this tale of war pause, fear not. We will resume its telling in a new volume soon, but for now, ‘tis a visit to Epsilon that awaits. Until then, I offer the well-wishes of General Rock Biter and his soldiers, Lycovenato and Queen Lepidoptes, Admiral Tailwind and Commodore Shady, Princess Celestia, myself, Gavian, Stormrunner, Aves Osprey, Swift Strike, Blindside, Fell Flight and all the surviving Bolt Knights. Know that we sign off this final entry with our hearts full of friendship and gratitude, comrades in arms once more.


—Captain Firefly
Bolt Knight Captain Emeritus
Military History and Tactics Instructor
Equestrian Officer Academy
Canterlot