Part 9 - Why We Fight
My first Hearth’s Warming as a Guardsmare ’twas a very somber affair.
’Twas certain it could not be anything else, and I feared my memories of what was supposed to be a happy time would be forever tainted by the attack on Outpost Epsilon. Yet, it also marked another turning point in my life, a far happier one as would quickly become clear. For on that Hearth’s Warming I would be given the greatest gift of my life…
A family.
Hearth’s Warming Eve dawned sad and somber at Outpost Epsilon.
Snow had fallen hard overnight, but ’twas not pegasus doing. ’Twas but another storm front out of the Empire, producing a bitter wind and swirling flakes off the canyon that had lifted just before morning. After the raids of the previous weeks we had given up trying to mitigate them, for every pegasus pulled off patrol for weather duty was one less who could defend our border and bases.
The frontier towns complained as they were hammered repeatedly with wild weather, but in truth, I was glad for it. The snow covered the scars of battle and remaining bloodstains on the ground, granting a measure of purity and peace to a place that no longer knew it. I did not wish to stay any longer than I had to, and as my leave had been approved, a transport was waiting to take me back home along with a few others. But before I could depart, there was a memorial service to attend for the sixteen ponies slain in the raider attack.
As ’twas traditional for pegasi, their nearly-indestructible primary feathers would be returned to their families and loved ones, but they would otherwise be laid to rest with a single primary to mark their passing. Their bodies would be cremated and their ashes released to the skies they loved and defended; their names forever etched into a slab of granite laid in a garden outside the outpost’s headquarters bunker. As per another custom, the service was to be held at daybreak, reflecting an old pegasus belief that the rising sun led the way to the Summerlands for fallen warriors.
As dawn broke over the canyon, the first rays of light illuminating our frosty breaths in the frigid air, the entire Epsilon garrison assembled outside the remains of the base, which was just starting to be repaired—and expanded, if the new construction sites were any indication. It was very cold, but the chill of the air didn’t affect me so much as the chill in my heart; the many deaths, both witnessed and inflicted, of three days earlier still weighing heavily on me.
We snapped to attention as Captain Sirocco stepped up, her face drawn, dressed in her wingblade harness and battle armor, blades deployed—’twas something pegasi shared in common with gryphons; we were warriors and would honor our fallen as them. She had come by naval transport the night before and was there to posthumously award the Wing Warrior badge to the fallen pegasi. They would also receive the Celestial Seal of Sacrifice medal, awarded automatically to dead and wounded soldiers.
Those of us who survived our first battle were awarded Wing Warrior badges as well; mine sat heavy on my armored chest. I once coveted it and saw it as a badge of honor, but now ‘twas little more than an unwelcome reminder. One I wanted nothing more than to fling as far away as I could.
I was far from alone in that sentiment, or the only one traumatized by the events of that night. Though the veterans remained stoic, Fell Flight most of all, many mares that had seen their first real fighting that night were still in shock and mourning for their lost comrades, often stunned by their own bloodthirstiness in slaying the gryphons.
’Twasn’t just the mares either; Private Shrike had barely spoken a word since the battle, having trouble coming to terms with the death of his friend and his actions to avenge him. ’Twas a rude awakening that no matter how peaceful or versed in Harmony we were, we were just as capable of killing and bloodlust as the gryphons we thought ourselves better than. ’Twas a very hard thing to accept, but such thoughts were lost as the Captain stepped onto an elevated stand and began to speak.
“To other ponies, the Wing Warrior badge represents high honor; a mark of martial prowess and warrior worthiness. But those of us who have received it know differently,” she began, her voice amplified by her blue command gem. “It means we have joined the sisterhood—and brotherhood—of blood and battle. That we have lost our innocence and known the terror of combat. That we have felt the pain of seeing our friends fall before us,” she told us all, causing a series of stifled sobs.
“It reminds us that there is little glory in what we do, and often all too much agony. It reminds us that we do not fight for Princess and Province so much as for friends and families; for the comrades we meet and fellowships we form here.
“In receiving this award, we are no longer mares and stallions, Corps soldiers or Guardsponies, pegasi or unicorns. We are ponies whose bonds were forged by battle, warriors of Equestria charged with her protection and defense. We fight so that others stay safe. So that they may sleep soundly and be spared the horrors of battle and the nightmares we must endure. That is what it means to be a soldier,” she told us, leaving me reflecting that Sundiver had said something very similar. Then again, ’twas probably a speech she’d given many times in the past, so mayhap he’d heard it from her to begin with.
“’Tis a burden we accept but reluctantly, and one only those who have carried it can truly understand. Its costs…” she paused long enough to bow her head to the newly laid gravestones, “now lie before us.”
She took a deep breath before going on, raising her eyes back to face us. “Tis not weakness that we mourn their loss, or that we now question our actions.” Her gaze turned on me as she spoke, and I sensed her words were now at least in part meant for my ears. “’Tis a normal part of the grieving process, and an important one.
“But we cannot allow our emotions to cloud our judgments or break our fighting spirit. We cannot allow ourselves to give into doubt or despair. Our enemies do not sleep, and do not mourn with us. They will come again. And we must be ready. So stand fast and stand strong, Guardians of Equestria, and know that all ponies stand with you. Just as they once stood with us.”
Her eulogy concluded, she came to attention as an old pegasus funeral medley was played. The cremated ashes of my fallen forces were released to the winds that pegasi worshipped and wielded; the fine dust picked up by the bitter breeze to be carried away as the too-long roll call for the fallen was recited. Names, faces and voices I’d known, now lost to all but memory save but a single primary feather and placard. We stood at attention, but emotions could not be restrained. Stifled sobs were heard as a friend or comrade was recognized, with the most emotion reserved for the three fallen stallions.
Tears were in my eyes as well. No matter how many times I was told otherwise, I still believed I had failed them, and the medal on my chest was just a reminder of that fact—that I still lived but they didn’t.
And how was that even remotely fair?
When the dirge had ended, the Captain called our attention to her yet again. “As we remember the past, we must also look to the future. And to that end, there is one final order of business to attend.” It was then she turned to me. “Sergeant Firefly!”
Though surprised, I trotted forward from the head of the formation and saluted. “Reporting, ma’am!” I tried to speak without my voice breaking, hoping the tears in my eyes would be attributed to the biting wind.
She considered me for a moment before speaking. “Sergeant Firefly… methinks this was not the introduction to command or combat I would have wished for you, but you proved equal to the task. ’Twas thanks to your quick thinking, tactical skill and combat prowess this base was twice saved, an entire raider group destroyed, and many more lives spared.
“For your superb leadership in most trying circumstances, doubly so for it coming but two weeks after assuming command of this base, you are hereby awarded the Aerial Corps Commander’s Cross, given only to officers, both commissioned and non, who display exemplary leadership in battle.” She stuck the blue-and-white medal to my chestplate, beside the silver-and-black Wing Warrior badge.
“The Corps thanks you for your service, Guardsmare.” She stepped back and saluted me, cuing the rest of the assembled pegasi to do the same. There was no acclaim for the award, nor did I wish any. In fact, I wasn’t sure I wanted this medal any more than the last, and said as much, my expression downcast.
“With respect… I do not feel I deserve this, ma’am.”
To my surprise, a smile cracked her normally severe features. “That alone confirms for me that you do, Sergeant,” she replied. “The burden of command is far greater than that of being a simple soldier. Believe me, I know.” Her expression went sad and brooding for a moment, but she recovered quickly.
“But I also know true leadership when I see it, and so does First Lieutenant Sundiver. I don’t give these out easily. In fact, quite rarely. But you have earned it. And for proving yourself an able warrior and officer, you have more than earned this as well.” She pulled out a scroll from her uniform pouch and unrolled it; I recognized the seal as belonging to the Captain of the Royal Guard.
“Sergeant Firefly! For demonstrating such fine mettle as both a soldier and a sergeant, ’tis been decided you should bear a rank worthy of your status as base commander! By my recommendation, and by order of Captain Typhoon, you are hereby promoted… to Sergeant First Class!”
With that declaration, she removed my old rank insignias and replaced them with new ones that had been clipped to the scroll, the three red V-stripes now paired with two curved ‘rockers’ beneath it, the empty space in the middle filled with the Guardspony service insignia. And this time, there was acclaim from the crowd; even Fell Flight nodded and looked pleased despite me gaining a rank in less than six months it’d taken her six years to reach.
I was speechless as she went on. “After the raids of the past month, ’tis been decided that this outpost can no longer be considered a safe backwater for its remote location. ’Twould seem it had become a favorite raider target for its smaller size and fewer numbers. No longer! Accordingly, it shall be rebuilt into a full-strength border base, with a battalion-sized garrison.
“Frontline training of new Corps pegasi will no longer be done here, but back at Gamma, which can support and protect them until they are ready for more dangerous posts. Therefore, First Lieutenant Sundiver is being transferred there and given the title of Chief Training Officer. And in his place…” Her eyes fell on me.
“Your deployment was scheduled to end in six weeks, but it does not have to. Command of Epsilon is yours for as long as you wish it… Sergeant First Class Firefly!” She saluted me again.
All I could think to do was salute back as hoofstomps erupted behind me.
I got on the transport in an utter daze.
I barely remembered the trip back, even though it took several hours, arriving back at Fort Spur midday. There was no talking during the entire journey, everypony aboard lost in their own brooding thoughts.
As I bade the remaining Corps pegasi goodbye as they continued on to their hometowns, I found myself looking out of the currently-empty Fort Spur training grounds from which I had embarked but four short months earlier.
We had arrived at lunch hour, but I didn’t feel like eating, much as I hadn’t the previous several nights. In truth, I felt like a ghost returning to a place she had once lived; walking in the hoofsteps of a pony that no longer existed. I was not the same pony who left there; certainly not the same one who initially arrived. I was changed now in ways I did not fully understand, and thus, I sought the counsel of the one pony I thought might be able to help me.
A pony who had seen fit to greet my arrival personally, standing at the dock as I disembarked.
“Welcome back, Sergeant,” Sergeant Major Windshear greeted me formally as I saluted him, returning the gesture crisply—far more than he usually did when I was but a recruit. I caught the barest hint of concern in his eyes as he appraised me. “You seem to be carrying a bit more weight on your shoulders now,” he noted with a somber nod at my medals and new rank insignia. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, sir. But I’m not sure I want any of it…” I admitted, letting him see the pain in my eyes. “May we talk, Sergeant Major?”
He nodded gravely. “Of course. Methinks I can give you a half-hour before afternoon training begins,” he told me, leading me back to his office. Flying, we arrived in less than a minute.
“So how is the new recruit class?” I asked him as we entered and he put his kettle on.
Before replying, he gave me an askance look. “You seem to have made quite an impression on Recruit Jester,” he finally noted with a wry grin. “As hard as he’s training, methinks he took you at your word.”
“My word?” I blinked, only to blush as I remembered my motivational speech to him. Methinks I’d all but forgotten it in the wake of everything that had happened since. “Oh. Sky Sentry. He’s doing well, then?”
“Very,” Windshear confirmed. “’Tis no exaggeration to say he’s nearly as good as you, and I’m giving him the same advanced training regimen you got—at his insistence, I might add,” he chuckled. “He’s already good enough to beat half the trainers and I may test him myself before all is said and done. Be warned, he might well get that Corporal rank you told him he required in order to…?”
My blush deepened at the look the Sergeant Major gave me. “I believed I promised him ‘the slightest chance’, sir. I did not say ’twas guaranteed!” I reminded him, slightly flustered.
His grin got wider. “Nevertheless, methinks you’re going to face a challenge with some very interesting terms when he graduates, Sergeant,” Windshear twinkled, only for his expression to go serious again. “But ’twould seem you face challenges of a far different sort right now?
“I do,” I admitted, going downcast as the funeral dirge played that morning at Epsilon echoed through my head again. “And I could really use some advice, sir.”
He nodded solemnly and offered me the chair in front of his desk. “So what happened?” he asked me, pouring me some tea out of his kettle and passing the cup to me. “’Tis certainly known you saw action—methinks the news is all over Equestria now—but not the particulars. At least, nothing from any source I’d trust. I’ve heard variously that you slew a dozen raiders or single-hoofedly saved an outpost… oh, and that you sobered up some drunken militia stallion by dumping a bucket of snow on his apples?” His grin turned wry.
For the first time in days, I actually laughed a little, remembering the stallion’s shocked schoolfilly shriek. “Well, methinks that much is true…” I admitted, recalling how I’d rudely rousted the militia base commander at Gallop. I then went on to tell the Sergeant Major the full story of the two raids, and how the last one had ended, my lip quivering as I told him how I decapitated the raider group leader to save my new friend.
To my surprise, he reached across the desk and took my hoof in his own, in a gesture I could only describe as fatherly. “Twould be a lie to say I wasn’t worried about that with you. I knew you wouldst face this eventually. And ’twas not the challenges from other Guardsponies that concerned me so much as your first true taste of fighting. It’s broken many a pony in the past.”
I shook my head, thinking what a foal I had been. “When you asked me before if I could kill, I thought ’twas academic. Yet now I know you were right to worry,” I told him, going downcast. “Because I feel like I lost part of myself out there. And now, I no longer know if I can do this. And I certainly don’t know that I earned these…” I motioned to the adornments on my chest.
“Stand fast and stand tall, Sergeant,” Windshear repeated Sirocco’s words, giving my hoof a squeeze. “From what you said, I see nothing else you could have done. Captain Typhoon must have thought so too, for ‘tis certain he does not jump ponies two ranks lightly. He earned his post, and he insists that others earn theirs. He doesn’t kiss up to nobles or approve such rapid promotions unless you’ve earned them. And I knew Captain Sirocco from my time in the Corps—believe me, she doesn’t either. If they say you earned it, ’tis certain to me you did.”
I was still skeptical, and the Sergeant Major saw it. “If you still doubt yourself, let me tell you a story, Sergeant,” he began. Even though I was an SFC, it was still customary to address an NCO as ‘Sergeant’ until you hit the rank of First Sergeant in the Guard, or Sky Sergeant for the Corps. “’Tis about a cocky young colt fresh out of basic, not too unlike yourself. One who thought himself invincible, was the best recruit in his class, graduated with a high starting rank and thought he could beat the entire Gryphon Empire by himself.”
I guessed instantly who that colt was, but decided I’d play along. “Perchance I know him, sir?”
“Perchance you do,” he granted, smiling wanly. “He was but eight weeks out of basic when he saw his first action, fighting out of Outpost Delta when a large force of gryphons raided Trottingham over the winter holidays…”
* * * * *
It took him twenty minutes to recount the whole story and by the end of it, my hoof was at my mouth. As bad as my introduction to the gryphons and fighting had been, the Sergeant Major’s was even worse.
“And so that was it. The battle was won, and that young colt ’twas decorated for his actions, but it mattered little to him. Two of his squadmates died that day... and part of him died with them. That’s when he realized ’twasn’t a game. That’s when he knew what he was up against. That honor meant precious little in an actual battle; that he wasn’t invincible. And neither were his friends.
“That to be a warrior meant death and killing. That it meant forever sacrificing part of your own soul.” He looked down in brooding memory for a moment. “Just like you, he questioned himself and his actions constantly afterwards; even considered quitting. But in the end, he did not. In the end, he came to terms with it and emerged a warrior.”
“And how did he come to terms with it?” I had to know.
Windshear’s eyes closed in memory. “Fortunately, there were others who had done so already that he could talk to, and one of his new friends told him something that stuck with him. Something perhaps best passed on to you now.” He sat back in his seat, his eyes distant. “He told me that ‘nopony ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb son-of-a-diamond-dog die for theirs!” he affected an odd but strangely familiar accent as he spoke.
I blinked. “Who said that?”
“Lieutenant Ironsides,” he admitted. “Though he was just an Army Sergeant back then.”
My eyeridges flew up at the mention of the gruff and intimidating Fort Spur commander, an earth pony who visited our recruit class more than once to run our training drills personally and teach us grappling; my ears still burned from the dressing down he gave me for failing to budge him even an inch in a contest where my only task was to move him. “Really?”
“Really. And he’s right.” Windshear actually chuckled. “Granted, he said it after a few drinks, but methinks he knew what he was talking about. Some, like the gryphons, believe the highest honor ’tis to kill for their nation and die for their cause. But that’s not what ponies are about. We believe in life, and defend it. We live for our country, whilst they seek to die for theirs.”
I kept the thought to myself that the raiders seemed only interested in money as he went on.
“Put another way, the difference between us and them is that they fight for conquest, honor and glory—ultimately selfish reasons—whilst we fight for each other and to protect those we hold dear.
“And therein lies the key to being a successful soldier and coming to terms with death and killing, Sergeant—knowing who you fight for, and why. For me, I decided the answer ’twas simply this…”
He pulled open the drawer of his immaculate desk. “They are who I fight for,” he announced as he brought out a framed image. ’Twas a unicorn-painted picture of four mares and nine foals, including two colts. They surrounded the Sergeant Major, who was dressed in his formal Guardspony uniform.
’Twas his herd. I would never have guessed him to be a family stallion, which in hindsight ’twas a ridiculous thought—stallions couldn’t join the Guard until they’d sired sons, after all—but in the end the Sergeant Major ’twas but a regular pony outside of the Guardspony trainer persona he donned. A father, a husband… and a friend. “Then this…”
“’Tis my family in Cloudsdale—my mares, sons and daughters,” he confirmed. “They give me strength. They give me hope. For them I would do anything. For them I will live; for them I will fight, kill if I must… and if necessary, die. I will do so to preserve their futures, and their nation so that they may grow up within it without knowing the things I’ve seen and done.” His eyes went distant. “For ’twas them that gave me strength in my darkest hour. And my gravest test.” He nodded behind him to the Defender of Harmony medal and Red Talon trophies on the wall.
As odd as it was to hear these words coming from a stallion, they rang true. I found myself nodding slowly, my understanding growing as there was a knock on the door and Bone Deep entered, passing a note to the Sergeant Major. The healer and recruiter unicorn stallion was surprised to see me and greeted me warmly, making a point of saluting me for now having a higher rank. Startled, I returned the honor, wondering if I’d ever get used to it.
Windshear smiled as the Sergeant departed and he scanned the note. “So the question before you, Sergeant, ’tis not if you can fight. ‘Tis who can you fight for?” he told me. “Answer that, and you shall find your strength. Answer that and you shall find peace and purpose. Answer that… and you shall become the warrior you were meant to be,” he promised me as a trumpet suddenly sounded outside, a familiar call for recruits to assemble following lunch.
With that, he stood up. “Now go, Sergeant. Enjoy your leave. I’ve got a recruit class to ream before going on Hearth’s Warming leave myself, and ’twould seem you have a friend awaiting you outside the base gates.” He smiled, showing me the note he’d just received; the name on it causing my heart to leap.
“But before you leave, a word of warning, Firefly…” His expression went grave again, his sudden use of my real name telling me to heed his next words carefully. “With your promotion, methinks you’re going to face a new round of challenges from veteran Guardsponies who think it unfair you jumped ranks so quickly. Such challengers will be longtime and seasoned veterans not easy to defeat. Be ready.”
I nodded slowly, standing up and saluting him, feeling much better than when I’d arrived. “I shall be, sir.”
I left the Sergeant Major’s office lost in thought.
Though I briefly considered going with him and greeting whatever remained of the pegasus recruit class, I decided against it, knowing I was not in the right frame of mind to present myself well or deal with Sky Sentry. At that moment, there was only one pony whose company I wanted. And she was waiting just outside the gates, as Windshear had said.
Wind Whistler smiled softly at me as I exited. “’Tis good to see you, Firefly,” she said as she drew me into an embrace. “Welcome home, my friend.”
I eagerly returned it, trying to choke back tears. I was definitely feeling better after Windshear’s story, but I still needed the comfort of my one true friend. “’Tis good to see you as well, dear Whistler.” As I let go, I looked her over. Something seemed different about her, but I couldn’t quite place my hoof on it.
And found I didn’t much care as my lost appetite of the past several days finally caught up with me. We ate lunch at an old favorite of ours, the Haystack Cafe, where a shared bowl of fruit and flowers was quickly polished off over my first mug of cider in months. Hearth’s Warming decorations surrounded us, but I hardly noticed them, and only barely acknowledged the greetings some old acquaintances gave me, impressed by my appearance in a Guardspony uniform.
Trust Wind Whistler to notice. In truth, she had sensed something wrong with me the moment she laid eyes on me. “You’ve changed, my friend,” she noted in some concern over lunch. “If you wish to talk…?”
I did, so afterwards, we took a long flight and walk through the woods, doing just that. I did not wish to share my burdens with her, but before long the story all spilled out as we sat on a cloud overlooking the town and base. Her only response was to listen quietly and then comfort me as I cried in the privacy of the air around us; she held me gently as I released days of pent-up emotion by sobbing into her shoulder, mourning my lost comrades and innocence.
In the end, ’twas what I needed at least as much as Windshear’s words, and I found myself feeling far better after.
“So where will you stay?” Wind Whistler asked me when we finally flew back to town, to which I but shrugged.
“The Inn, I suppose.” I had ended the lease on my small apartment when I graduated and given away my few possessions, intent on leaving my old life behind. “And if they are full, I shall simply find a patch of cloud.”
“You will do no such thing!” Wind Whistler put her hoof down. “Hearth’s Warming is a time for friendship and family and thus, you will stay with me.”
My heart warmed at her affection. “I do not wish to impose…”
“’Tis my choice, my friend. You are always welcome in my home, and now my parents’ home as well. Wouldst you care to join me and my family for a Hearth’s Warming Eve dinner?” she asked.
I blinked. “On such short notice? Are you certain your parents would not object?”
She smiled at me. “Worry not, my friend. When I received your letter saying you wouldst be coming home for leave, I asked them if I could invite you, and they said yes. ’Tis simply not done that you should not enjoy a traditional Hearth’s Warming dinner when you have leave on the holiday.”
I agreed, but ’twould be a lie to say I was eager. Methinks I had been looking forward to spending a quiet evening with Wind Whistler alone. As noted before, Wind Whistler’s parents had never really approved of our friendship, or of me. They had softened a little after the Diamond Dog incident, but as far as I knew, their opinion of me had yet to change. Still, if Wind Whistler had convinced them…
“Very well,” I said. Immediately, my stomach rumbled an agreement, which sent her into a fit of giggles. I blushed. “I suppose I really could use some hot food for once!”
We stopped off at her apartment home just long enough for me to drop off my rucksack, shower off my grey fur dye with a special cleanser and then change for the first time into my formal Guardspony uniform. It consisted of a white tunic and burgundy dress jacket with a silver sash, with my rank insignia carved out of brass and sitting high on my collar.
I hesitated over whether to wear my new medals, as I did not wish to give the impression of bragging, but Wind Whistler insisted, saying her parents would appreciate them. I was startled when I looked at myself in the mirror, and not just because it was the first time in months I had seen my true colors.
I looked completely different than I had upon entering basic. Gone was most of my long shock of mane hair, now close-cropped. Instead of slouching lazily as I had done often as a teenager, I stood tall and straight, almost at attention. My body was pure sleek pegasus muscle now, which might not get me much interest from males but did mark me as a finely honed warrior, one who had already seen action.
In short, I had the look and manner of a soldier now. And yet, what was most different to me were my eyes. Gone was the twinkle in them, the cocky gleam they’d once known. ’Twas the numbed gaze of someone who had seen combat; who had killed.
The look of a mare who had gotten everything she wanted and was no longer sure she did.
“You look very dashing, my friend,” Wind Whistler noted in appreciation as she donned her own dress. “’Tis certain my parents will accept you now.”
When we got to her parents’ home, I found myself amazed once more at how opulent it was. I knew that both of Wind Whistler’s parents were military ponies, but the sheer level of luxury they lived in was staggering. I had thought military ponies were used to spartan lifestyles, but her parents were anything but spartan in their home. It wasn’t as garish or fancy as the nobleponies’ homes I saw in Canterlot, but it was still far more than I had ever lived in.
One peculiar note about Wind Whistler’s parents is that they were a single pair of mare and stallion; what is colloquially termed a ‘matched pair’. The two had never formed a herd, and had expressed their intentions not to. ’Twas unusual, and viewed as selfish by some, for one mare to keep a stallion all to herself; the low numbers of stallions in Equestria meant that forming herds was oftentimes not just preferred, but necessary.
However, as both of them were military ponies to the core, very few ponies ever said anything about it. Herds were hard enough to maintain with one member in the military; multiple members made it nearly impossible.
As we entered, we were greeted by Wind Whistler’s father, Tailwind. A former flyer in the horribly under-crewed Royal Navy, he was now a Commander and first officer of one of our few remaining naval airships, the EAS [Equestrian Airship] Loyalty. Whilst it may seem odd, his promotion was due to tragedy; when an accident aboard one of the airships left him with a permanently crippled wing, he was no longer capable of flying—or indeed, of traditional pegasus combat, period.
For those who are unaware, Equestria was still feeling the effects of Nightmare Moon’s rebellion even three centuries after the event. Prior to her revolt, the Royal Navy was as large and respected as the Royal Guard, being Princess Luna’s personal service branch just as the Guard is Princess Celestia’s. It used to be that ‘the Guard is our shield; the Navy, our sword’, or so the texts say.
However, much of the Navy was lost during the Lunar Rebellion, as they followed their sovereign’s orders and waged war on Celestia. Almost completely disbanded afterwards, it had become little more than a ceremonial branch of the armed forces the Princess only retained out of love and respect for her lost sister.
Before the war, nobles who wanted to claim military experience took a tour of duty in the Navy where they could wear a uniform while not actually risking themselves. To little surprise, it gave them little credit for it with the Royal Guard, Army or Aerial Corps, and Naval service was considered ‘cushy’ as a result.
Tailwind was not one of those ponies. I’d heard from Wind Whistler that he’d been rising through the ranks, and was petitioning the Crown to begin expanding and training the Navy back up to its original levels. But Princess Celestia remained reluctant, believing doing so would be seen as provocative to Equestria’s enemies given that the Navy had once been the offensive arm of the Equestrian military.
The resistance he faced from the other service branches didn’t help matters. The Aerial Corps and Armored Guard claimed to do the job of the Navy anyway, whilst the Army viewed naval airships as little more than large targets that were all but useless at taking or holding ground. Tailwind had never accepted these arguments, and was continuing his petitions even to this day. He cut an imposing figure, even with his injury; he stood nearly as tall as Stonehoof, the earth pony Royal Guard graduate who I’d wrestled with briefly in the post-graduation party. His coat was a brilliant cyan, and his mane a pure white.
He favored me with a warm smile, to my surprise. “Welcome, Sergeant Firefly,” he said simply. “You appear to have done well for yourself,” he noted, seeing my two medals and the rank insignia of an SFC.
I admit I was caught off-guard by the formality with which he greeted me, to say nothing of the respect. Still, months of drilling took over, and I replied with an immediate salute. “I thank you for having me, Commander.”
He waved a hoof in dismissal. “You needn’t be so formal with me, Sergeant. After all, I am not part of your branch of service, and it is unlikely I ever will be. I will have to keep myself satisfied giving orders from the bridge of an airship.” He took a brief glance at his useless right wing, which was held at an odd angle to his body.
After meeting Blindside, I knew that those with disabilities could, in fact, serve and serve well. Still, ’twas also no question a crippled wing was a far more debilitating disadvantage than a blind eye, so I simply nodded. “Perchance one day medicine will advance to the point where you may yet serve Equestria again in a more up-front role,” I suggested.
He smiled again, somewhat more wanly. “Perchance. Now come along. Silent Night should be finished with the dinner preparations.”
He led us to the dining area of the home, where his wife, Silent Night, was laying out the table. Though technically retired holding the rank of Sky Sergeant, she remained part of the ready reserves for the Aerial Corps; she still drew a military stipend even though she wasn’t on active duty any longer.
I knew from Wind Whistler that she specifically worked in the elite Black Lance battalion, a highly-trained Corps unit that engaged in special and covert operations, often working in conjunction with the Equestrian Intelligence Service. Her coat was well suited to such a role, being a dusky blue, though her mane wasn’t, being a vivid red. She looked up and smiled as we entered. “Ah, hello, Firefly! ’Tis good to see you again.” She came up and held my hoof, looking me over with great approval.
I was once again caught flat-hooved by the friendly greeting, and this time I couldn’t hide my bemusement. “Thank you, ma’am. You will forgive my bluntness, but I was not expecting such a welcome”—I glanced at both of them—“from either of you. You have made your distaste for me known in the past. Rather vocally, I might add.”
Tailwind and Silent Night exchanged looks; rueful ones, I noted. “Well, that was when we thought you little more than another orphaned spitfire,” Tailwind replied. He wasn’t one to mince words. “You were brash, headstrong, and lacking in discipline… in short, we thought you wouldst be a bad influence on Wind Whistler.”
“But you’ve changed, Firefly,” Silent Night continued. “Those medals and the fact that you were able to graduate basic training by besting Sergeant Major Windshear proves that you’ve come far.” She smiled at me; a genuine, caring smile. “In addition, Wind Whistler has been keeping us apprised of your letters and progress in the Guard. We also heard about your outpost battle—indeed, everypony has by now. When she told us you were coming here on leave and that she wanted you to have a proper Hearth’s Warming dinner, we could hardly refuse.”
Well. I certainly wasn’t going to complain about this change in their attitude. “I thank you both, then. Is dinner prepared?” I asked, a bare hint of my old carefree smirk showing.
“It is,” she promised. “Please, sit down and eat.”
Dinner was, quite simply, sumptuous. Silent Night had pulled out all the stops. ’Twas definitely a change from the mess hall at Epsilon, which served the same tasteless slop day after day—that alone would be another reason to start stationing some army earth ponies at the outpost, I thought, if they would just grow some food. I managed to restrain myself from simply diving headfirst into my share, instead eating at a measured pace despite my ongoing hunger. As we ate, the four of us talked about everything from Silent Night’s wonderful dinner to Tailwind’s petitions for naval expansion, even Wind Whistler’s business in making whistles and wind chimes.
Finally, though, talk turned to me. “Methinks, Firefly, that your leave was rather sudden,” Tailwind noted. “After we heard of the attack on your outpost, we would have thought you wouldst remain there over the holidays.”
I winced, my appetite fading at the reminder of why I was here. “’Twas my intention to do so. However, circumstances conspired against me,” I replied carefully.
“Circumstances which led to a two-rank promotion?” Silent Night asked, nodding at my insignia. “That is certainly reason to celebrate, yet you look so melancholy.”
I bit my lip. Even after speaking with Sundiver, Sirocco, and Windshear, I still felt guilty about the fallout from the second attack on Epsilon. “’Tis… difficult, to talk about,” I said evasively.
Whilst Tailwind and Wind Whistler looked confused, Silent Night regarded me with a look of great understanding and sympathy. “The first time you take a life always is,” she replied in a low tone.
Everypony stared at her in shock, myself most of all. “How…?” I asked, unable to complete the question.
“Fly with me, Firefly,” she invited, nodding to the big balcony outside the living room, opening the door for me. “There are things for us to discuss. Tailwind and Wind Whistler, I ask that you both stay behind and clean up the table. What I now say will be for her ears alone.”
* * * * *
“So…” I began tentatively as we took flight into the cold and starry night, the Mare in The Moon illuminating us as we passed weather teams assembling snow clouds to make the holiday white. “You have seen action then?” I asked as we passed out of earshot.
She gave me a sad smile. “I may no longer be on active duty, but I am still a mare of the Corps,” she replied as we found a higher cloud to light on, the cold not bothering us even though our breath instantly crystallized, glittering softly in the moonlight. “Moreover, I was and still am a Black Lance; we specialize in infiltration, espionage… and assassination. ’Tis a dirty business, Firefly, and one the Princess herself frowns upon, though even she understands its need. ’Tis not for the faint of heart. Nor is the military in general,” she said, looking out over the lights of the town. “Though some only find that out the first time they are forced to take a life.”
I nodded slowly, reflecting that of all the ponies present, Silent Night was indeed the most likely to know my pain. Tailwind may have flown with the Navy until his accident, but the Navy hardly ever engaged in combat anymore. “What… what was your first time like?” I asked, haltingly. ’Twas certainly an intrusive question, but I needed to know.
Silent Night closed her eyes, as though reliving a difficult memory. “’Twas a bitter and painful experience for me,” she admitted. “In truth, I envy those like you who take lives in the heat of battle. The adrenaline and anonymity of your kills dulls the shock significantly, or so I hear,” she chuckled bitterly. “Being in the Lances, I’ve never had that luxury. Most of my kills are very… personal.
“But to answer your question, I first soiled my hooves with the blood of a gryphon legate. He’d been commanding a skirmish operation to harry our border outposts and drive off settlers, though naturally the gryphons denied everything. So orders came down to eliminate both him and the force he led after we lost forty ponies, both civilian and military, over six months to the ambushes he orchestrated.
“Thus, after extensive planning, my squad crossed the border one stormy night, found his base, took out the sentries with poison darts, and whilst my squadmates went through the barracks to deliver death to his sleeping soldiers... I snuck into his tent whilst he slept, and then slew him with his own blade, as per my orders, leaving it stuck in his throat and a black lance stabbed through his unit flag as a warning to his masters.”
She bowed her head and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before she went on. “I confess… I very nearly lost my nerve before I did so. To take a life in cold blood like that ’tis many times more difficult than in the heat of battle.”
I swallowed nervously to hear such a gruesome tale so casually told. “What, then, caused you to go through with it?”
Her eyes went ice cold, and for just a moment she truly looked like an assassin; ’twas all I could do not to flinch from her gaze. “The knowledge that by doing so I was ultimately saving pony lives by ending these raids and serving notice to the gryphons that we, too, could play their game; that our reach was long and their atrocities would not go unpunished. But in truth, there was one other motivation I had.”
Her gaze fell back on her home, now far below. “My future husband had just asked me to dinner the following week. And when I pictured his smile, imagined his hoof holding mine…” Her eyes softened. “I thought perchance it might one day be his life I was saving. That there would be one less gryphon to threaten the pony I held dearest to me. And that ’tis what gave me the courage to strike.” She nodded slowly and then gained a wry look.
“It did not, however, stop me from becoming sick to my stomach the moment I got back to base. And it left me so distraught ’twas weeks before I was able to carry out my duties again.”
“’Tis a common thing, then?” I asked without thinking. “To become ill after taking a life?”
She nodded gravely. “I confess it is. Methinks I know of no pony who ever managed to hold their stomach in after the fact. ’Tis a shock to us; we are a peaceful race by nature, so to take another life is to run counter to our very being and all notion of Harmony.”
It made sense, I realized; ponies, as a species, were generally peaceful and predisposed to help others. To have to consciously make the choice to slay another being who was but sleeping before you… “Methinks I know your meaning,” I said with a nod. “But please tell me—did it ever get easier for you?”
She bowed her head again and exhaled heavily. “It brings me no joy to say that over time, it did. I take no pride in that fact, Firefly, but I know ’twas necessary for my work. For the work itself is necessary, and thus those of us who carry it out must be able to kill without compunction.
“’Tis necessary because there are enemies out there who wish us ill, those whom notions of friendship and Harmony hold no sway. Enemies who would take all we hold dear and destroy our way of life. Enemies who must meet with either a swift and silent end at the hooves of the Black Lances, or fall to the wingblades of the regular Corps pegasi in battle.
“’Tis cliche, but ’tis still true—we fight and kill so that other ponies may live in peace and freedom. Remember that and you will find it in your heart to forgive yourself, as I did. So be at peace, young warrior.” She laid a hoof on my cheek and smiled sadly.
“Know that you are not alone, and what you are now experiencing is something through which all soldiers must pass. It will unquestionably change you. But it will not end you any more than it did me. And it does not make you a bad pony,” she promised me.
“If you are still uncertain, consider this: I am a Black Lance, yes. But also a mother and lover; a chef and a friend. My actions as the former did not preclude any of the latter, nor will it for you. The guise of the warrior is but a mask I don when needed, and there is no reason you cannot do the same. Know that I see honor and nobility in you, and methinks finally understand what Wind Whistler saw in you all those years. You are a fine young mare, one any mother would love to have as a daughter,” she finished, almost wistfully. “And you are forever welcome in our home and my dear Whistler’s life.”
I sensed some hidden meaning in her words, but I hugged her hard all the same.
* * * * *
We returned to their home ten minutes later, arriving just as snow began to fall. “Is all well?” a worried Wind Whistler asked, cleaning up the table along with Tailwind.
I nodded and smiled, my heart feeling a warmth it hadn’t in some time. “All is well, my friend,” I promised.
“We had a long talk, Whistler. About military life,” was all Silent Night would say. “There were simply some things Firefly needed to hear… about topics not suitable for a Hearth’s Warming Eve dinner, my daughter,” she added with an arched eyeridge, a note in her voice warning my friend not to press the matter further.
“I see,” Wind Whistler said, having read between the lines quite quickly. “Well, this but makes my choice all the more certain.”
I blinked and looked at her. “Choice? Whatever do you mean?”
She smiled and her parents did too. “I have made a great decision, my friend,” she said, beaming. “My application has gone through; at the next class cycle, I will enter basic training for the Armored Guard.”
Far from being pleased, my jaw dropped open. “Are you mad?!” I sputtered, completely losing my composure whilst her parents looked on in pride. “Being a Guardsmare has proven to me that I was anything but ready for this life! And ’tis certainly no place for a maker of whistles and wind chimes !” I put my hoof down.
She shook her head sharply. “My place is with you, Firefly. And I will not allow you to face these demons alone,” my friend replied firmly. “I swear before Celestia and the sun itself that I will do whatever it takes to join the Guard, and be by your side again!” she proclaimed, standing tall before me.
“But… but… the training! Basic is brutal! And Sergeant Major Windshear will…” I trailed off at the smile and raised hoof of Silent Night.
“She’ll be ready for what she faces, Firefly,” the reserve Black Lance mare promised me, a gleam in her eyes. “I’ll train her myself to make sure she is.”
I confess, I was having trouble deciding on my emotions at the time. Shock, anger, confusion, all rolled together to attempt to disorient me. Yet, out of the tangled web of feelings emerged one altogether different from the mass: happiness. I was honestly touched by the gesture from my dearest friend. Still, I couldn’t accept it just yet. “Whistler… why? You have a business here; a successful one at that. You live comfortably and are making a name for yourself. Why wouldst you throw it all by the wayside just for my sake?”
She gave me a knowing smile, and somehow, I knew what she would say before she said it: “Is that not what friends do?”
Before I could answer, Tailwind spoke up. “Indeed, ’tis certainly a mark of friendship to stand by each other in times of need. And the two of you have always done that.” He got up and went over to a cabinet, from which he drew out a single scroll. “Yet ’tis also clear to us now the relationship between you two runs deeper than mere friendship.”
Both Wind Whistler and I blinked. “What are you saying?” I asked, echoed by my friend.
His smile got broader. “Wind Whistler has often told us that she thinks of you as a sister in all but blood, Firefly.” He unrolled the parchment on the table before me. “And Silent Night and I have decided to give you a chance to make that statement more than mere sentiment.”
I looked over the scroll, eyes widening as I read it, staggering back as I considered the implications. “Is this… am I… dreaming?” I choked out, my emotions running wild once more. Beside me, Wind Whistler looked equally stunned, tears in her eyes.
Silent Night stood by her husband. “’Tis no dream, Firefly. This is an invitation, from us to you. An invitation into our family. All you need do is sign, and we will adopt you as our second daughter. And thus, in not just her eyes but the eyes of all Equestria, you will become Wind Whistler’s sister.”
Losing all military bearing, I threw my forelegs around them, sobbing in joy, and was shortly joined by Wind Whistler as they hugged us back. Tailwind then spoke for both my new parents, saying the words I can remember clearly to this day:
“Happy Hearth’s Warming… our dear daughters.”
A Hearth’s Warming Eve chapter for Christmas Eve... certainly appropriate to the occasion. And if you listen to no other music in this chapter, listen to the song at the end. It’s quite appropriate, especially if you know my other works. 
This chapter marks the end of the first real phase of the story. No battle scenes here, but plenty more are coming. And for those of you now curious, there will be bonus chapters describing the first fights of Windshear and Silent Night, which they only touched on here. They require a whole chapter to tell, so I didn’t want to include them here. And fear not—the Black Lances and Silent Night will certainly be heard from over the course of this story.
Thanks as always to my prereading crew—AJ_Aficionado, Denim_Blue, and SilentWoodFire. Thanks to James CyberLink for the bulk of the music selections, and to Leo Archon for the idea of the ending song and for writing a lot of the dinner scene.
Nothing else to say, except... Happy Hearth’s Warming!
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I leave in about 5 minutes for a week without internet and I just finished updating my e-reader... Now you're making me go update it again.
I'll forgive you this time (and likely next time too)
Awesome world building with the funerary customs.
Dang. Captain Sirocco earned her rank with that speech. Lead on!
You really are an amazing writer. Each of your stories, while SO different in purpose, tone and subject matter are wonderfully done.
Epic custom! I love the ponies of this era. Well... yeah I love ponies any day of the week, but these ponies are 24/7 badass.
I imagine this with a pony.
calpurpleheart.org/Arts/Purple-Heart-Black-Bg.gif
I'm not sure this is what Gunnery Sergeant Hartmann had in mind when he spoke of "proper motivation", but you gotta give credit where credit is due!
A list of more badass Patton quotes:
It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.
A good plan violently executed right now is far better than a perfect plan executed next week.
Success is how high you bounce when you hit bottom.
Courage is fear holding on a minute longer.
A pint of sweat will save a gallon of blood.
May God have mercy upon my enemies, because I won’t.
The object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard die for his.
No poor bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making other bastards die for their country.
Better to fight for something than live for nothing.
We herd sheep, we drive cattle, we lead people. Lead me, follow me, or get out of my way.
Oh I don't know... I'm pretty interested.
Oh man... this is going to be amazing!
The gryphons probably blamed the settlers for being there.
How sweet!
They're going to be one hell of team, I'm sure. I can't wait to see some gryphon stomping!
...I'm worried for Wind Whistler now...
That aside, this was very nice.
I had a feeling that Joker... er... Jester was going to come out as corporal. A chance with a bad-ass mare like that would motivate any stallion.
6764219 Why the worry for Wind Whistler?
6764512
I dunno...I just get the feeling something awful is going to happen to her in the future.
6763334
And hopefully the time after as well...
6763369
Thank you very much!
Though they wouldn't be as good without my prereading crew and my oft-partner-in-crime, Leo Archon. We collaborate quite well, even going back to Turnabout Storm. I think the biggest reason my writing works is that I'm willing to listen to feedback and accept creative input from others. Prereader feedback has saved me from myself more than once.
6764219
Whistler is not the born warrior that Firefly is, but given her parents and especially her mother, she's definitely got it in her. She won't have an easy time of it, but she might yet surprise. And don't worry. We're not planning to just up and kill her.
6764446
You said it! And just wait until he graduates...
6763432
Well, the military ones generally are, at least... especially in the Corps and Guard.
The Purple Heart? That's pretty much what I was thinking of...
Firefly is going to find out just *how* motivated he was in due course.
Honestly, we could use him now, but he'd never survive in the present military because he's way too un-PC. And I imagine he'd have a few choice words to say about THAT, too!
I'll bet.
Credit where credit is due... the idea of the Black Lances was Leo's, and he wrote most of that scene.
Yep, they probably did... the way I envision it, both sides are trying to settle the as-yet unclaimed north.
It's her reason to fight.
In due course, but not right away. Whistler's got a long way to come, in some ways even further than Firefly. She's got warrior in her blood too, even if she's not the natural that Firefly is, and it'll mostly be a matter of drawing it out. If she's her mother's daughter, you know what she's capable of!
6767660
In fairness, he didn't really survive in his own time. There's a compelling case to be made that he was assassinated after the war for pissing off the U.S. and Soviet governments for his repeated calls to invade the Soviet Union once Nazi Germany was dead. I'm not usually one for conspiracy theories, but I find this one worthy of consideration. A lot of really important people hated Patton and the time he slapped a soldier suffering from PTSD was pretty cruel.
It was nice way to close out the chapter with Firefly getting a promotion she is pleased by to the rank of 'Sister'.
6767824
That's okay. No doubt he'll be reincarnated later as a new military leader. He did claim, after all, he lived through many historical eras and past battles in past lives. http://www.psychicsdirectory.com/articles/general-george-patton-and-reincarnation/
One more quote to add to your list: "If everyone is thinking alike, then somebody isn’t thinking."
6767883
And that is indeed a rank and title she will gladly accept. More to the point, she now has something very real and tangible to fight for--her new family. That will serve her well in the years to come.
This chapter did not disappoint.
How how pray tell?
There are 2 other messups, but i was reading it on my phone (When i should've been working, doh!) But i cant remember where they are. I think one was while she was talking to her Wind Whistler's mom? Stupid phone doesn't let me post.
Anyways, While i was expecting something, that sucker punch caught me off guard, right in the feels.
I can never understand why i keep pushing these story updates off.
Great story, as always!
6780066
Fixed, and I went through that talk section and found one or two other minor things. If you see any more, point them out. And thanks.
This chapter was designed to hit you hard in the feels. I'm glad to know it succeeded... credit goes to Leo for the bulk of that scene. More feels are on the way in due time... war is coming, but not just yet. Still some subjects to explore in the meantime.
This story is in for the long haul. But I'm enjoying writing it greatly.
This is why I love Action stories... I'll wait for the next again, in the mean time... back to work I go.
Throne... The feels in here...
Second video link is broken.
This is making me sad :-(
The ending made me cry tears of joy.
:-)
8964211
Sorry. But keep reading and stand by for the end of the chapter...
8965268
I'm glad! If my stories and even my chapters have any hallmark, it is balance between good and bad, sadness and joy. I won't ever give you wall-to-wall happiness or horror, but I'll alternate them so you can feel and enjoy each more keenly. That's ultimately my greatest aspiration as an author. Well, that and makes lots of money someday...
This was a beautifull cahpter and I greatly enjoyed the bonding experience Firefly had with her new family.
9421873
I’m glad! I try to balance good times and bad, happiness and sadness in my stories. But credit where credit is due--co-author Leo Archon wrote the ending sections of this chapter and had the idea for the adoption and ending song.
8983593
That is an excellent approach to writing, one that I wish more authors would adopt. If the whole story is pure sadness or horror, I rapidly become fatigued unless the writing quality is exceptional. After all, for us mortals, neither joy nor sorrow has meaning save in juxtaposition.
9861187
Exactly, and that's the reason I don't or wouldn't enjoy stories like Fallout Equestria which are basically wall-to-wall horror. You'll see plenty of the sorrow and hate here over the course of the story, but also plenty of love, triumph, and joy. It's the former that gives the latter more meaning, I believe, and the payoff for the reader for having made it through all that.
Oh I have sad joy for this chapter.
I have a sister, that while I struggle to get along with, I certainly would fight tooth and nail for her and certainly die for her if I could no longer live along side her. The fact that Wind Whistler has decided to join the military and stop being the person(/pony) for firefly to defend the innocence of, is sad. But the loyalty and love they share is joyful.
Look forward to Wind Whistler joining firefly's side and not dieing in the line of duty. (NO SPOILERS!)
Be safe Wind Whistler and good luck.
9951505
Then Leo Archon and I did what we set out to do in writing it.
Exactly. And that bond will only grow further from here because of it. Wind Whistler has a long way to go from here however, as I'm sure you now know having finished the story. But her journey is its own story.
No spoilers.
In the end, nopony will be safe, and Firefly could not have kept her safe even if she stayed out of the military.
But it will be to Firefly's and Equestria's great benefit that Wind Whistler entered it!
Video link for "Friends Forever" is broken.
Very deep chapter. It had quite a few twists and turns.
Magnificent
Somehow i imagen Equestria assasins going for low tech with high efficiency
11133505
Thanks again!
11133542
In some ways, the ponies are better equipped now than they would be in the future around the time of the show. Simply because they need to be.
;-;
I cried through most of this chapter but this part has be SOBBING
Anyone who says they read to relax is full of shit ;-; reading is stressful as hell and I love it so much