Part 10 - The Gathering Storm
I came to terms with my first kill fairly quickly. ’Twas fortunate that I did, for as it turned out, I would be tested again all too soon. Silent Night had told me that the guise of the warrior was but a mask donned when needed, and I took her advice to heart, finding that despite my earlier actions I could indeed still be a sister, a friend… and even just a pub-drinking pony again.
In the end, the biggest lesson I learned from my leave is that life goes on, and you can indeed smile again, though I had no idea then of the storm clouds that were already starting to gather. War was but eight months away, but it never seemed so distant as when I was with Wind Whistler, just being her friend and sister.
The pony holiday of Hearth’s Warming was but another day of work and preparation at Raptor Base, located on the border canyon opposite the Equestrian Outpost Gamma.
As Gryphons, we hardly cared about the Equestrian calendar except insofar as we could plan operations to take advantage of it, though we could understand well enough the idea of celebrating unity after our own feudal and fractured past.
The Consul rarely took holidays, so neither did I, though in truth, leave never interested me. As a Talaeus, my place was either on a training field or at the Consul’s side. Having no family of my own, and considering very few other gryphons peers even amongst the other Red Talons, I also did not have any real interest in eaglesses. My combat abilities being so far above them, mating rounds were just never stimulating to me.
’Twas a lot in life I’d accepted, that I simply had no equal. At least not among other gryphons, but the elements of nature were another matter.
I’d heard that ponies liked to mark their winter holidays with snowfall. As far as I was concerned, they were welcome to it. A storm had roared up the coast the previous night and had cut off most flight and shipping into Cirrus Cassida through brutal blizzard conditions; in my darker and more suspicious moments I wondered if the ponies had somehow stirred it up. But as a tempest of that size would take a thousand pegasi a day and their entire yearly supply of storm clouds to generate, it could be safely discounted, reminding us that our world itself remained the biggest weathermaker of all.
Such thoughts, however, were lost as my commander received a message and frowned. “My lord?” I prompted, long experience as his adjutant telling me he was reading something troubling.
“A minor complication, Centurion Kaval,” Gaius replied as he read over the scroll a second time. “’Twould appear that we did not give the ponies enough credit. ’Twould seem they kept a young raider hidden from us and have been interrogating him right under our noses at their Gamma Base.”
He showed me a scroll that had just been passed to him bearing the seal of the Office of Owls, an organization responsible for maintaining the Imperial spy network and keeping us apprised of Equestrian operations. That he would even show it to me was a sign of his trust; normally a mere bodyguard, even a Talaeus, would not be so privileged.
I read over it swiftly. “So they have a fifteen-year old fledgling. Is that a problem?” I asked earnestly. “Traitor though he may be, ’tis unlikely he knows anything of value.”
“’Tis possible he may have visited the facility we used to temporarily hold captured ponies.” The Consul used as bland a term as possible for what we were doing there, in case by some stretch the Equestrian Intelligence Service was listening in through their favorite dogs; one of the few pony units worthy of wariness—the Black Lances.
His Consul stateroom back at Cirrus Cassada was secure against such things, but his Legate office at Raptor Base somewhat less so given the closer proximity to the ponies. Even so, ’twas hardly likely, but with preparations reaching a critical phase, one couldn’t be too careful.
“That would hardly be cause for concern,” I played along, though inwardly I understood the import of the potential leak well. “’Twas merely a holding area. What could he tell them? And why would that even interest them?”
The Consul arched an eyeridge at me, the candle on his desk flickering in the icy drafts that leaked in around the edges of the door. “Perchance you are right. And yet…” he tapped his talons on his stone desk, considering the possibilities. “If they are holding him, ’twould be because they believe he knows something. And by now, ’tis quite possible he has told them,” he mused.
“Even if he has, there is no danger of it. There is nothing there,” I reminded him, and ’twas the truth—we had cleaned out the facility once we’d lost the raider group.
“We have seen the Lances and their EIS masters follow breadcrumb trails before,” he reminded me in turn, “and several past operations have been compromised by it. If nothing else, ’tis possible he saw some of our agents there, who could then be identified and targeted.
“No, my friend, I believe this is one instance ’tis better to be safe than sorry,” he decided, writing out a quick note on parchment. He showed it to me before rolling it up and sealing it, passing it to me to deliver personally. “I will make arrangements from this end. You know what to do.”
“It will be done,” I saluted and bared my throat to him. Taking my leave, I flew out into the bitter storm around me, the driving snow quickly turning my black-dyed feathers white again.
My weeklong leave passed quickly, and in very good company.
Overjoyed at our newly-official sisterhood, Wind Whistler and I spent the entire night of Hearth’s Warming Eve cuddled together in her bed, talking, snuggling and occasionally sniffling in her old room at her parents’ home. Some additional gifts were exchanged on Hearth’s Warming Day, but they were nothing compared to the one I’d already received.
I felt some dismay that I had nothing to offer them in return, until Silent Night reminded me that becoming their daughter and helping make Wind Whistler happy was gift enough.
We attended a Hearth’s Warming Pageant in town that night, and then went to a military ball at the rather opulent officers’ club outside of Fort Spur. Dressed in my formal attire with my medals and new rank prominent, I quickly became the center of attention again, with many nobles and Guardspony veterans wanting to meet me.
Though a little uncomfortable at the scrutiny, I accepted their acclaim with all the grace I could muster, pointedly declining a challenge from at least one drunken stallion who said I ‘hadn’t earned my stripes’ on the grounds that our holiest holiday wasn’t the time for it. When he would not leave me alone, he got hustled off by more sober Guardsponies, and I later learned he cooled his hooves in a holding cell at Fort Spur.
Hearth’s Warming over, I enjoyed the chance to just spend time with Wind Whistler and her parents again. Admittedly, it felt good to be out of my armor for a bit and live as a civilian once more, visiting old haunts with my dear friend and now-sister. The events of Epsilon grew more distant in my memory, and I felt myself starting to smile anew as we hit pubs and headed out into the snow to play our old training games, which had taken new meaning with the revelation that Wind Whistler was going to be starting Guardspony training herself.
I gave her some basic drills and lessons, testing her raw flying and combat ability. She was certainly stronger and swifter than the average pegasus mare, but that was probably more due to our foalhood play than anything else—she’d simply had to get quite fit to keep up with me and be my sparring partner. I knew she wasn’t bad in a fight, having been in a few bar brawls with her over the years. She tended to be quite cerebral about it, same as she was for everything else.
Whilst she didn’t have my raw strength or fighting gifts, her talent was analyzing opponent fighting styles and tailoring her responses to it. She tended not to throw a punch until she’d figured out what you wouldst do, at which point she could put you down quickly.
I should know. Growing up, she’d done it to me a few times when I’d gotten a bit too cocky and full of myself.
So the potential was there—then again, it could hardly not be given who her mother was. Nevertheless, she had a long way to go—her stamina was poor and reaction times slow, and she could hardly wait to analyze enemy fighting styles during an actual battle. I sensed she needed a lot of conditioning work and sparring practice before she’d be ready for basic, a point I made clear to her repeatedly.
“They will try to wash you out quickly,” I warned her. “They will run you into the ground and heap abuse upon you in an effort to break your body and spirit, for if you cannot take the training, you cannot keep up in combat. And the Sergeant Major will not care that you’re my friend. He will demand you prove yourself worthy of not just the Guard, but of him.”
Despite my words, she never wavered in her determination to go through with it; her mother promising me that she would begin training Wind Whistler in earnest after my leave was up. She further invited me to spend as much time with her daughter as possible before departing, since once she went into basic, she would not emerge for six months…
Unless, of course, she was forced to quit. I had a very real fear that she simply wasn’t the equal of the task. After all, even I had barely made it through, and been in far better shape to start physically. I thought of trying to convince her to go for the Aerial Corps instead, but ultimately decided against it. For in the end, she was every bit as stubborn and dedicated as I was when she set her mind on something.
For in the end, she was dedicated to our friendship, and to me.
Just two days after a rousing New Year’s Eve celebration at the Aching Drum, one that found me the toast of the pub and enjoying the simple pleasure of a barroom brawl again (A longstanding Aching Drum tradition), I found myself in uniform and back at Epsilon once more. The base seemed different to me now, and not just for all the fresh construction sites; the new buildings were already well-along in my absence.
I was met at the transport gate by Sundiver and Sirocco, who appraised me cautiously as I stepped off. I saluted the latter, then the former, announcing I was rested and ready to assume command. Surprised but pleased at my change in demeanor, they invited me back to Sundiver’s now-former stateroom for a late lunch and a long chat about things.
I told them briefly what had happened over my leave, touching on my talks with the Sergeant Major and Silent Night. I was somewhat shocked when they recognized the name of the latter, whom I would later learn had launched several operations along with her Black Lance team out of Gamma. “Then… you are now her daughter?” Sirocco asked in surprise.
“And her daughter is now my sister,” I closed my eyes and smiled; my heart full of warmth again. The pair smiled in response, apparently convinced my change of heart was real, and thus we got down to the business of how I would run the base.
There was plenty to cover, not the least of which were the sheaths of documents and procedures that commanders had to know, now changed in the aftermath of the two raids. The gryphons had apparently been lying quite low since the earlier attack, but they now had a large exercise planned when the latest storm blew over, and we would be monitoring it closely. “And there is something else, Firefly. We wish to transfer a… guest… to your custody for a day or two, believing he will be safer here,” Sirocco offered cautiously.
“Guest?” My eyeridges raised. “And safer from what?” I didn’t like the sudden coyness in the Captain’s voice.
She looked less than pleased herself. “For now, I cannot say. But I promise all will be revealed shortly,” she told me, sensing my unhappiness. “In the meantime, let us now discuss more pleasant matters—including tomorrow’s change of command ceremony…”
* * * * *
I barely slept my first night back at Epsilon.
I’d been given Sundiver’s former quarters, of course, as was due me as base commander. Despite the damage to the building, it had survived the raid relatively intact except for a broken window or two. His bed was certainly more comfortable than the average bunk, but it still felt like I was sleeping in somepony else’s bed. ’Twas also no help that the room felt quite empty and uncomfortable for now being bare of belongings, Sundiver already having packed his up.
He’d had a few pictures and possessions he kept here and there, souvenirs of his career in the Corps, whilst I had nothing but a rucksack full of uniforms normally kept in a storage gem. Unable to sleep, I got up and read through all the new documents again whilst sitting behind Sundiver’s stateroom desk, thinking of how strange it felt for me to be there.
When that got old, I went outside to stretch my wings and took a long flight after stopping in at the observation tower to visit with Fell Flight. I asked her candidly if she and the other Corps veterans were okay with my rapid ascension in rank; she replied that though she’d heard some grumbling from those who hadn’t been present for the battles, most were.
“And for those who are not, just give them the same treatment you gave me that first day, and they should come around quickly,” she told me with a slightly wan grin.
“And you?” I followed up, knowing I needed her support for my new role. “Do you accept me now being your equal in rank, after but a single battle and such a short time?”
She hesitated, but only briefly. Her slitted eyes looked out over the canyon as she spoke; I swore her normally green pupils had turned a more yellowish hue in the moonlight. “’Twould be a lie to not say it feels a bit unfair, commander. But ’twould also be a lie to say that you had not earned it.” She punctuated her statement with a salute.
“I have served under many leaders, not all of whom deserved the post they held. But I can truthfully say that you do—that I have never seen a more natural leader or warrior than you, ma’am. You have more than proven yourself in my eyes, and I would happily follow and aid you where I can.”
“’Tis appreciated greatly.” I bowed my head, praying I would yet be worthy of such high praise from the veteran SFC. “Wouldst you be willing to stay on as my second, then? I need your command experience and rapport with the veterans to make this base work.”
Her only reply was to stand at attention and salute again.
* * * * *
Another cold sunup found us readying for a new ceremony, though this would be a far less unhappy affair.
The entire Epsilon garrison, now two hundred strong, stood in ranks before me, in full battle dress and wingblade harnesses as an improvised band—I was surprised to learn that our newly assigned Swheatish earth pony maintenance team played various musical instruments—belted out a martial melody.
When the song was done, First Lieutenant Sundiver and I faced each other, dressed for battle like the rest as Captain Sirocco stood between us, reciting the formal Change of Command notice from the scroll. She read off Sundiver’s long citation list from his ten years at the base, thanking him for his service before officially naming me as the new commander of Outpost Epsilon.
She then went off script a bit. “Some may question this appointment, or her rapid rise in rank. Be assured that this decision was not made lightly, and was the proper reward for service rendered. Those of you who disagree… will answer to me,” she finished somewhat ominously, causing a smile to briefly crack the face of the stone-faced Sundiver.
When she was done, the Equestrian national anthem was played. When ’twas finished, Sundiver and I stepped forward and saluted simultaneously, just as we’d rehearsed the previous day. Then we took one step forward and he gave me the Epsilon banner, in effect passing the flag to me.
“First Lieutenant Sundiver, I relieve you,” I gave the ritual line as I stepped back, holding the banner upright where it waved in the wind
“Sergeant First Class Firefly, I stand relieved,” Sundiver gave the ritual acknowledgement as we exchanged a final salute, then he turned on his heels to face the Captain. “Ma’am, I am properly relieved!” he announced and saluted her in turn.
I quickly followed suit. “Ma’am, I assume the watch!”
“And may it be vigilant but peaceful,” she told me, returning our salutes. The Aerial Corps and Royal Guard anthems were then played to conclude the ceremony; the entire battalion standing at attention and saluting throughout them.
The Consul was quite angry.
He was always very reserved with his emotions, but you could sense what he was feeling if you knew the subtle signs to look for. Slightly ruffled chest feathers and the slow tap of his talons on his stone desk was one sign. The latest dispatch he had received from the Office of Owls was another.
“They’re moving him, Centurion,” he told me, shoving the scroll at me with some disgust. “A day too soon.”
I frowned at the news. One did not simply walk into Gamma and assassinate a captive gryphon; such an operation took time to prepare, and in the meantime, we were keeping close watch on both the border and the old pony holding area the raiders used in case the Black Lances came sniffing.
So far we had seen nothing, but ’twas hardly a guarantee—the accursed pets of the Equestrian Intelligence Service had a wide range of skills and magical artifacts they could draw upon for stealth. ‘Twas certain they had escaped detection before; the Owls still spoke in hushed tones about how they had once laid waste to a Legate and his entire command.
“A complication, to be sure,” I agreed as I scanned the document, my mind turning. ’Twas too late to intercept him in flight, but perchance it could still work to our advantage. “But they also know where he’s being taken. A less-protected base,” I pointed out.
“A more alert base,” he corrected me. “Their eyes will be extra sharp there so soon after the raids. No, my friend, I fear this operation has just gotten considerably more complicated.”
“If the risk is too great, we could just let him go,” I suggested again. “’Tis still unlikely he could tell them anything of value.”
“If they believed that, they would not still be holding him,” the Consul immediately countered. “I fear he does know something, and they would hardly be keeping him so close to the border if they didn’t hope to use him somehow—perchance to identify an Owl agent at the base site,” he told me, and as I thought about it, I realized he was correct. “So regardless of their reasons, he must die.”
“The Ravens have already been dispatched,” I informed him. “Whether Gamma or Epsilon, they will follow and find him. And their request…?” I tapped the bottom of the scroll.
The Consol didn’t reply right away. Instead of answering, he exited to his office balcony to look out over the sprawling base, as he so oft did when he was facing a difficult question. “Tis a great gamble,” he told me at some length in a prize understatement. “We did not want to use them so soon. But if it works, ‘twould prove this project a success and be untraceable to us.
“The ponies would simply believe that one of their own had killed him out of vengeance and grief, and be none the wiser that ’twas not a natural act,” he further mused, weighing the risk of exposure against that of allowing the young tiercel to live another day.
“The Owls promise it will work. And certainly, they have good reason to say so. We have already gotten excellent intelligence thanks to their new pets. It’s how we know where our quarry will now be,” I noted.
The Consul considered that. “Methinks you are correct,” he acknowledged. “So be it. Give the order,” he told me, adding a quick note and signature to the bottom, rolling the scroll back up and putting his magical seal on it. It would destroy the scroll if anyone but the recipient with the counterpart unsealing spell tried to open it.
“It shall be done,” I saluted and bared my neck to him, leaving immediately to deliver the message.
I spent the entire afternoon in my office interviewing my NCOs, both old and new.
I was trying to get a sense of the ponies under my command, and if any were going to take issue with my assuming it. Despite Fell Flight’s assurance, I was certain there were some out there who were likely to cause trouble.
After all, given how headstrong I used to be, I most likely would have myself were the situations reversed and I was but a year younger. The biggest surprise, however, came not from the newly arrived Corps soldiers, but from a very familiar friend.
“Ma’am, I… I feel I owe you an apology,” Corporal Blindside began before I had even invited her to sit down, standing at rigid attention before me. I’d noticed before she seemed to be avoiding me since I’d returned, glancing at me and then averting her gaze, but with everything else happening, ’twasn’t something I could look into.
I gave her an odd look at her statement and demeanor. “An apology? Why?”
She hesitated, then took the plunge. “For forcing you to save me. ’Twas inexcusable what happened,” she went downcast, wetness suddenly apparent in her good eye. “I was lost in bloodlust, blinded by my rage and should have sensed her. And were it not for my anger, I would unquestionably have,” she explained, and I believed her—despite her bad eye, she had an uncanny sense of her surroundings and was almost impossible to land a blow on; she’d effortlessly dodged darts and bolas during the first raid and even I had a great deal of trouble tagging her during our training spars.
“’Tis my fault you were put through that ordeal, and I am truly sorry for it. ’Tis now clear to me you were not ready to kill, but I forced you to do so. So please accept my apology, and my request for reassignment.” She passed a scroll to me, her voice now trembling along with her legs.
’Tis no exaggeration to say I was taken aback, and ’twas some seconds before I could form a reply. “No, my friend,” I smiled wanly. “’Twas nopony’s fault but the gryphons. ’Twas a trial I needed to face, and delaying it might only have made it worse. It had to happen sometime, and whether or not it had to be then, I am eternally grateful that doing so meant I was able to save you,” I told her, seeing her visible eye go wide.
“You are my friend, Blindside. That means a great deal to me, as I hope it does to you. I would not stand in your way if you still wish to leave, but I would ask that you stay. I do not hold what happened against you. We were all traumatized by the events of that night.”
Her jaw had trouble working for a moment. “I thank you for saying so, ma’am, but I… I do not wish to forever be a painful reminder.”
“Corporal, you are anything but!” I shook my head forcefully. “Methinks if you are a reminder of anything to me, ‘tis of that which is most worth fighting for—friendship,” I further told her, standing up and walking around my desk to face her. I then put my hooves on her shoulders, forcing her gaze to meet mine. “We are friends, Blindside. My new rank does not change that, nor does what happened that night in any way diminish it. Were our positions reversed, wouldst you have done no less for me?”
She nodded sharply, if somewhat jerkily. “Then please stay,” I asked her again, not as a commander to subordinate but as one friend to another. “’Twould mean a great deal to me… or was there another reason you wanted to leave?” I belatedly recognized, sensing from her evasive gaze there was.
She allowed me to see a moment of pain and fear on her face. “My blades spilled blood,” was all she would say at first, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I slew two. And it frightens me that at the time it happened… I enjoyed it.” She visibly shivered. “Ma’am… Firefly… please understand. I am… afraid of what will happen if I stay here. What I may do and feel. So my request is for a transfer to procurement and supply,” she motioned to the scroll again.
Understanding dawned on me. So that was it. She was trying to escape her guilt just as I had, except I’d gotten leave and she hadn’t. Except I’d been able to talk to others and she hadn’t. ’Twas hardly fair, now that I thought about it, so I made a mental note to arrange for all first-time combatants to take leave as soon as possible.
Hopefully then they might spend time with their loved ones and be reminded of why they fought, be able to make peace with themselves as I had. “Placing yourself in a rear area supply base would be a terrible waste of your talents, my friend,” I told her gently. “You wouldst not be happy there, and you wouldst not be able to come to terms with what happened, either.”
“But how does a pony come to terms with… this?” she asked me again, and this time she couldn’t hold back her tears. She began to sob, and I did the only thing I could think of; the very thing Sundiver had initially done for me:
I held her and let her cry on my shoulder.
I ended up staying an hour with Blindside, just talking with her, telling my later appointments I would come get them when the time came.
I tried to impart the wisdom I’d gained over my own leave, telling her about the talks I’d had and the resolution I had reached. She seemed, if not convinced, at least more thoughtful afterwards. I left the question of her transfer open, telling her to take a week’s leave to think it through and then decide. She perked up at the suggestion, looking genuinely eager at the idea of seeing her mother in Cloudsdale again.
My first day of command nearly done, I went for dinner, declining the option to have it served in my stateroom—I would eat in the mess hall like everypony else. After a week of good eating with Wind Whistler and her parents, the canteen was certainly a step or three down, but there was little for it. I wondered again if it would be worth it to request an Equestrian Army unit be stationed at Epsilon, if only so the earth ponies could grow some fresh food.
After making my evening rounds, I received an encrypted message via courier. They still weren’t sending confidential messages over the crystal network, so I was forced to take it back to my quarters and decode it using a special key. The message informed me that our ‘guest’ and his escorts would be arriving in the wee hours of the morning via a scheduled supply shipment, and I was to meet them personally, telling nopony else about them.
I didn’t like being told what to do without explanation then any more than I did as a foal. Nevertheless, I followed orders. I still had no idea who was coming until the supply transport arrived, and off walked a cloaked Equestrian Army unicorn mare. She wore their usual chainmail armor as well as a longbow and quiver strapped to her back, and was accompanied by two other travelers. One was a single, rather nondescript Corps stallion in wingblades, but the other…
“You!” I gaped and then glared, recognizing the scrawny and manacled young gryphon instantly as the one Blindside had corralled at the end of the raid. He looked no more happy to see me than I was him, visibly cringing from my gaze. “Why have you brought him here?” I demanded to know, immediately turning my attention to the unicorn mare, who seemed to be running the show.
“’Tis not your concern,” the mare replied, interposing herself between me and the gryphon, whilst the other Corps stallion seemingly ignored me, keeping a close watch on the surround. I stared at her a moment, noting she but bore the rank of Sergeant, meaning she hardly had authority to order me about.
Her next words, however, made clear that she did. “My posting is but a cover, Commander. I am in fact Agent Artemis of the EIS. He will be here but for a day. We ask only that you keep him safe and not let word out of his presence.” She passed me an order slip detailing my responsibilities, signed by Sirocco herself.
The Equestrian Intelligence Service. Wonderful, was all I could think as I read it. I’d already heard stories about them from the veterans, and they were rarely happy ones, involving secretive and overbearing mares that ignored the chain of command and ordered ponies about like they were the Princess herself.
Keeping him safe was a tall order given many mares would wish to slay him on sight if given the chance, but orders were orders. “Fine,” I grated out. “As per your instructions, we have a holding cell available for him.”
“Methinks we will use your stateroom, commander,” she informed me blandly. “Tis more defensible and a place potential enemies are less likely to look. I hope you will not be too inconvenienced.”
I bit my tongue. “As you wish,” I nodded, leading them through the darkened hallways, wondering if Sundiver ever had to put up with this.
* * * * *
It felt decidedly odd smuggling a gryphon into my quarters.
For all the concealment magic that I assumed the EIS had available to it, we ended up using the simplest of tricks, throwing a blanket over his head as we led him down the deserted hallways, myself in the front and the Corps stallion bringing up the rear.
To be sure, We weren’t likely to run into any of my soldiers. My new battalion was in a pavilion tent outside, which was acting as their temporary barracks whilst the real ones were rebuilt. The earth pony workers had their own improvised quarters as well; they’d thrown up a series of temporary structures to house themselves in environs far superior to the average pegasus.
Then again, they couldn’t sleep on clouds, which in my experience was far more comfortable than any mattress or pillow. The gryphons, however, could; even if they couldn’t control the weather like pegasi, they could still walk on the clouds like any other winged species in our world. So I went outside and grabbed a patch of cloud, all but flinging it at him along with an old blanket.
“Thank… you…” he managed in heavily accented Equestrian like ’twas the first words of our language he’d learned, his voice tremor audible as he bared his neck at me in the gryphon gesture of submission. He was definitely scared and I was surprised to feel a brief moment of pity for him, though that quickly turned to disgust as Agent Artemis opened a box and gave him a fish out of it to eat.
I didn’t want to be there.
Methinks I really didn’t want to be there.
I wanted to be anywhere else but back at the base that was the source of my nightmares, in the presence of the mare who gave me some of them.
As I lay on that cloud and felt their eyes on me, discussing me in a language I had only barely started to pick up, I regretted my life, I regretted my choices, I regretted ever taking the invitation to join the raider group. ’Twas certain I would have been better off scavenging from the base refuse like I’d been doing before, or stealing the occasional fish off the piers.
But no, I had to be ambitious. I had to want to reach a better place. I had to have teenage dreams of glory that had now blown up in my face, leaving me the captive of my race’s enemy and facing a bleak future. For even if I could escape, returning to my homeland might well be a death sentence. Agent Artemis—I had finally learned her name—’twas right about that, no matter how badly I wished it otherwise.
Her interrogations had continued daily. She wanted names and faces from the holding base we took ponies; she wanted to know what had been inside that old structure. They cast memory spells on me so I could recall everything clearly, and then pulled images right out of my head using some very uncomfortable and invasive magic, trying to identify known Imperial agents.
I had prayed to my ancestors they wouldn’t be able to. Maybe then they’d let me go; I was planning to chance the far northern wilderness if they did, see if I could circle around the spell-guarded border by going to a place the border didn’t exist.
My hopes and prayers were in vain. From my memories, they identified two members of the Owls; the Empire’s feared spies and security service. Though I insisted that they’d only been there to pay us, and ’twas the truth as far as I knew, she eventually pried an admission out of me that they’d also given us the communication crystal replicas we’d used for our failed ruse, and that the ponies typically spent several hours behind closed doors in a restricted and soldier-guarded section there before being released for ransom. I’d had but one look inside that room, and one image that stuck with me…
That of an unconscious pony strapped to a table whilst another gryphon did something to him I couldn’t quite see.
And thus, they had now brought me here, for reasons I wasn’t clear on, but then again they only ever told me what they wanted me to hear. I was under no illusions about what the ponies thought of me or the reception that likely awaited me back in the Empire; every day I lived at that point was a blessing, uncertain though ’twas.
And truth be told, the ponies really weren’t treating me badly to that point. Once I agreed to talk, they treated my wounds and helped me sleep. They further tended me by feeding me fruit and fish, and I quickly found that even their basic bread was quite good; far softer and tastier than our typical scones. Even the Guardsmare Commander, though she clearly didn’t like me, saw to my comfort when she had every reason not to.
The thought stuck with me as I pulled up the blanket and settled onto the cloud she’d provided for me. Could it be the ponies were not so bad or beneath us as I’d been told…?
“His name is Gavian Ravenoff,” Agent Artemis told me as she magically restrung her bow, staring at the restlessly-sleeping young sky gryphon.
“I didn’t ask,” I replied, my annoyance at the obtuse mare growing. She didn’t answer the questions I had, only the ones I hadn’t.
“He’s had a rough life,” she noted as she experimentally drew the bow, frowned, and made another adjustment.
“Methinks my heart bleeds,” I rolled my eyes, sparing a glance at the Corps stallion standing guard outside the door. Whoever he was, he hadn’t said a word but was definitely listening and keeping very close watch on things. I wasn’t sure what to make of him. He certainly didn’t look like much, in fact seemed rather slight in build. He’d never have made it as a Guardspony, I was certain, and I couldn’t imagine he would be much of a bodyguard. So what was he doing here…?
The EIS agent looked over at me, bringing my attention back to her. “He’s an orphan, same as you.”
I admit that gave me some pause. “Methinks that’s hardly—”
“He also dreamt of being a great warrior,” she noted in a very offhoof manner, stowing her bow beside her.
I blinked—had she been studying up on me? “I’m sure most young gryphons do, just like most young pegasi.”
“He was living from trash heap to scrap pile—no friends, no hope. He stole to live and hated himself for it, but he had no choice—he was too young and small to hunt for himself,” the unicorn mare went on.
My jaw set as I finally recognized what she was doing. “If you’re trying to make me feel sympathy for him, don’t bother.”
She bothered anyway. “Then the raiders came. They promised him a home and food; gems and glory. Promised he could finally have everything he’d ever wanted for. But they never told him of the cost. That he’d be coming in at the bottom of the group hierarchy, little more than a sacrificial lamb to be thrown at us with no training. They also didn’t tell him he’d be the favorite toy of their eagless mistress, who greatly favored young tiercels.”
I did not need that image. “The choice to join was still his.”
“Twas the only choice he could make, Firefly,” she told me, breaking military protocol to call me by my real name. “The only choice that could even possibly lead from his previous Tartarus to somewhere better. You had an orphanage and a friend. He didn’t even have those,” she remarked, her voice growing somber, and this time I did not reply—though ’twas greatly troubling she knew these things about me, ’twas still the truth. “If his presence bothers you, you do not have to stay here,” she reminded me.
I gave her a look. “’Tis my quarters, and as per my orders, he is my responsibility. The watch is set, and barring an alarm, I am not needed until reveille, so I shall remain here,” I told her, bedding down on a cloud in my armor, my wingblade harness worn—we’d been ordered to remain on alert in advance of the gryphon exercise, and that meant extra patrol flights and even those off-duty keeping their gear at hoof.
“And in any event, this is my base, Agent Artemis. I have my orders, but that does not mean I will allow you to lead me around by the nose and dictate my actions. Your prisoner is your responsibility, but this base and all on it are mine. Is that understood?” I asked, a bare edge to my voice.
“As you wish,” she shrugged, pulling the blanket up over herself, her longbow and quiver at her side.
My eagle eyes snapped open at a scraping sound outside the window.
At first I wondered if the Agent or Commander was trying to use the latrine, but I heard them both breathing softly, still in sleep. Glancing around, I looked to the window to see… a pegasus pony climbing in the broken panes, trying but not quite succeeding from disturbing the glass shards that fell to the ground beneath with a light but distinct clatter.
‘Twas dark, but my night vision allowed me to see her quite clearly, for all the good it did me. With my wings and legs bound, I had no way to escape or defend myself, but even were it otherwise, I knew from the earlier raid I had no chance against the well-trained and blade-winged pegasus mares.
Realizing she’d been detected, the mare made a dash for me; I could just see the glint of her blades in the moonlight. Bound as I was, methinks I could do nothing but shriek a cub’s plea for help, emitting a sharp and high-pitched trill.
Thankfully, the Commander was sleeping lightly, already awoken by the tinkling glass to leap up from her cloud bed to slam her subordinate into a wall. She pinned her in place just as I heard arguing outside the door.
“<Let me go!>” I recognized the intruder’s demand from her tone, if not the language. “<I’ll kill him! I’ll bucking kill him!>” she proclaimed in a shrill voice, causing me to cower behind a nearby chair.
There was an exchange of words I didn’t recognize, followed quickly by the Commander angrily throwing her subordinate to the ground, demanding an explanation. She got one, and in clipped tones, Agent Artemis translated.
My would-be assailant was one of the ponies we’d captured; she had later lost good friends in our attack. She had no memory of her time in captivity but felt violated by it, saying she would avenge the ambush and her fallen friends on me.
The Commander’s reaction was one of disgust, stripping her of her rank on the spot and saying something into her red gem. Bare seconds later a new pony appeared, this one a larger pegasus mare whose cat-like eyes with slitted pupils made me start.
She started herself upon seeing me, but at the Commander’s voice, she listened. Her expression grew wrathful as she did so, and she commenced a rather vulgar dressing down of the mare—I’d at least learned to recognize a few Equestrian cursewords by then—hustling her off after her blades were confiscated.
The Commander then marched outside, where she found half a dozen more white-furred pegasi mares arguing with the stallion, all demanding my blood. She barked out orders and shoved back one mare trying to push past her, who retaliated with a curse and a wild swing of a wing. But the female Guardspony parried it instantly and countered with a hoofstriker to the head, knocking her assailant out with frightening ease.
Far from dissuaded, the remainder then rushed the door only to quickly regret it; within seconds all were on the ground, nursing bruises and moaning in pain. Surprisingly, the Commander had not taken out most of them, however—that honor belonged to the almost-forgotten Aerial Corps stallion, who moved with terrifying speed.
The Commander was visibly surprised, but still set about to clean up the mess, ordering her second to throw the bunch in the brig and set watch on the building with trusted soldiers. Giving me a look of contempt, the cat-eyed mare nonetheless did so without question. To my relief, she was loyal to her leader; far more so than the group that was being escorted away in chains.
The danger was past, or so it seemed, but it brought me no peace of mind. My heart was beating a league a minute the whole time, and I knew then I would have no more sleep that night.
“How did they know?” Artemis demanded an answer, now pacing back and forth before me. “Your orders were most explicit, Commander! You were to tell nopony we were coming here!”
“I told them nothing!” I all but hissed out the words. ‘Tis certain I remained quite agitated after the encounter, disturbed at the disloyalty of my soldiers. Even for what they had been through, all captives from the first raid, it seemed an extreme reaction. “Not even Fell Flight knew, and methinks she is less than pleased I didn’t tell her!”
The other mare clearly didn’t believe me, but there was nothing she could do about it for now. “’Tis too late to move him elsewhere. So we will simply have to secure him here, until…” she trailed off, catching herself.
“Until what?” I demanded to know.
She looked away. “You don’t need to—”
Methinks I’d had quite enough of her vagueness and cryptic statements. “You will tell me!” I rounded on her and threw her hard against a wall, in no mood for any of this after having to put down several of my own soldiers.
She ordered me to release her, pushing back with her aura, but quickly discovered it would take far more than her meager magic to budge me. “Everything that happens in my base is something I need to know! If you wish me to protect him, then I will know why!” I all but snarled at her, ignoring the entry of the stallion, who was watching me warily.
And for the first time, he spoke. “Ma’am… methinks she should know,” he said in a deep but quiet voice marked with a very distinct Trottingham accent. “I can protect our charge against single assassins. But not against the whole base.”
Artemis ignored him for the moment, focusing on me. “Let me go!” she ordered me again, and I felt an electrical current building up. It was centered on her glowing horn, meaning she was readying to loose a lightning bolt on me—’twas an arcane spell that wasn’t even supposed to be known any more, but apparently the EIS still taught it.
I smirked, steeling myself for what was coming. I could tell just by the static charge in the air around me that the bolt she was generating was far weaker than the ones the Magus could launch, and thus, I had no fear of it. “No. Not without answers!”
“Pity for you, I am not giving them!” She said triumphantly as she loosed her bolt with an earsplittingly sharp crack!, only to watch in shock as I deflected it, easily batting it aside with a single armored forehoof into the wall.
It left a scorch mark and blew out some plaster, but I cared less about that than seeing her smug expression vanish. For Agent Artemis had just learned what my special talent was, and how I’d earned my cutie mark so many years earlier.
I had an affinity for lightning, able to fire bolts from clouds with double the usual intensity and frequency—hence my two-bolt cutie mark. In fact, when I had a chance to ready myself, I could easily deflect any weaker bolt sent my way, meaning shock gems and stun spells weren’t a threat to me.
But there were limits to that ability; I hadn’t attempted it against the lightning-casting gryphon mage because their bolts were far stronger than I could safely deal with. I also needed a few seconds to prepare a deflection, and a life-or-death fight didn’t allow for that.
That wasn’t the extent of my talent, however. I could also sense electrical currents far more easily than the average pegasus, giving me an idea of where living beings were in proximity to me. This makes it very hard to surprise me, especially in a storm-charged atmosphere. ’Twas an ability I’d told nopony except Wind Whistler, who had helped me develop it, though it quickly took a backseat to practicing my regular combat skills.
I didn’t want to be a mere weather specialist after all; I wanted to be a warrior.
The intelligence agent went deathly pale under her coat, eyes widening as she saw my feat. “Apparently there was something you didn’t know about me!” My smirk got wider. “Last chance before I throw you in the brig for endangering my base! Now answer me—what is he here for?” I shook her hard.
“Ma’am?” the stallion prompted again, making no move against me. “Tell her.”
“Fine,” she granted in a flustered voice, glancing over at Gavian, who was cowering in the back. Methinks he was uncertain of what it all meant, and gravely worried of what would happen if he lost his pony patron’s protection.
“As we speak, there is an operation underway to investigate the site where your captured soldiers were taken. The Lances are already in Gryphon territory searching for it, and when they find it, we are taking him there. Among other things, methinks he can help us identify and capture the Gryphon agents who paid his group for the raids, allowing us to determine their true purpose in staging them.”
“True purpose?” I repeated derisively. “Methinks their true purpose was money. We paid a ransom for their return!” I reminded her with disgust.
“And methinks that was just a ruse!” she answered angrily, then abruptly her horn flashed bright, momentarily blinding me. I heard a popping sound and when my vision had cleared, she had teleported behind me and interposed herself between me and Gavian, levitating her longbow and notching an arrow, pointing it at me. “And until I have evidence, I will tell you no more. Now withdraw!” she ordered me, pulling back the string of her longbow another inch for emphasis.
“No.” I flared my wings and deployed my wingblades in response, answering her threat with my own. Not about to be ordered out of my own stateroom, I stayed put, daring her to fire, every muscle in my body ready to spring if she did. I might take an arrow, but she would go down hard. I had no desire to kill her, but for assaulting me and endangering my base, I would make sure she spent a few painful days in the infirmary.
Our standoff lasted for several interminably long seconds, until the Corps stallion stepped between us. ’Twas a common tactic stallions used to break up fights between mares, and it had its desired effect as we both stepped back instantly and lowered our weapons; instinctively not wishing to endanger a male.
“Ma’am… Commander… with respect, if the two of you fight, the only possible winners are on the other side of the canyon,” he said bluntly. “And methinks the Commander is in the right here, ma’am. This is her base, and EIS or no, you have not the authority to make her leave her own quarters.”
Artemis clearly wasn’t expecting this, as her jaw fell open slightly. “Are you standing against me, Sky Sergeant Swift Strike? Are you forgetting the importance of this—”
“I forget nothing,” the now-named Sky Sergeant broke in, “least of all how this Commander single-hoofedly saved her base with quick thinking and sound tactics. Nor have I forgotten that she stopped an assailant short by herself whilst you were sound asleep. She deserves far more respect than you have shown her this evening. So methinks if anypony needs to leave this room tonight… ’tis you, ma’am.”
I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “I thank you for your words of wisdom, Sky Sergeant,” I acknowledged with a quick salute, surprised to learn that despite his youthful appearance and simple corporal insignia, he was in fact two ranks above me. “You are more than welcome to stay. You, on the other hoof, may leave,” I added, waving a hoof dismissively at Artemis and then pointing out the door.
The EIS agent was turning purple under her coat. “You are in violation of your orders, Commander,” she grated out. “With regards to this prisoner, you were instructed to defer to me!”
“My orders, Sergeant, were to ensure the safety of a guest. And I will do so.” I told her, dripping contempt on her rank. “You may guard the door from outside if you wish, but as in my estimation your presence endangers rather than protects him, you are no longer welcome in my stateroom.”
She glared at me. “I shall take this up with your superiors, Guardsmare!”
“As shall I,” I promised, watching her make a brief statement explaining matters in Aeric to Gavian, then storm out in a huff, taking her bow and uniform cloak with her.
I was right. I didn’t sleep a wink the rest of the night.
I kept half an eye open the whole time, watching the Guardsmare Commander as she studied scrolls at her desk, knowing beyond any shadow of a doubt she could break me in two if she wanted. I was also scarcely reassured by the presence of the white-furred, wingblade-wearing stallion, who seemed far more than he appeared. He stationed himself by the smashed window, watching over me from the corner, ready to take out any potential assassin, gryphon or pony who came through.
’Twould hardly make a difference, I thought. The entire base had to know I was there by now, and ’twas no doubt they all wanted me dead…
The better question at this point was, did my own side want me slain as well?
I would get the answer all too quickly as the horizon began to lighten; a cold dawn breaking over the canyon. The Guardsmare Commander—Firefly, I later learned her name—rubbed her eyes with a hoof before saying something to the stallion, who nodded.
At that moment, there was a muffled thump outside the door, just audible to my eagle ears. The two ponies heard it as well, their ears perking, instantly raising their heads and glancing at each other.
They had no chance to move before the wall suddenly blew in and a trio of grey-dyed gryphons burst through on the heels of a pair of thunder gems that left my eyes seeing spots and ears ringing; their crossbows notched and ready. Quickly spotting me, the one closest instantly took aim and tightened his talon down on the trigger.
RAVENS! I panicked, in what I believed to be my final moments. Among the Gryphon populace, the Ravens were spoken of in hushed whispers. They were a secret society of assassins in service to the Empire, one used by the Office of Owls to carry out all manner of ugly business. Masters of stealth and terrifyingly proficient at both spying and slaying, their presence meant my life was already over, as were those of my protectors.
But before my erstwhile assassin could fully pull the trigger, a blade thrown by the stallion impacted his shoulder, spinning him around with a pained squawk and causing his shot to go wild. I barely had enough time to register that unlikely feat when the slight stallion followed up with another, deflecting the retaliatory bolt fired at him by the middle Raven with a wingblade!
'Twas still certain to me that I was doomed, given that left the third Raven with a loaded crossbow, which she was now aiming at me. But this time, I was saved when the Commander leapt over the desk with her chair in hoof and flung it hard at the eagless, throwing off her shot and knocking her backwards when it splintered hard against her chest.
The unconventional but effective attack allowed the Guardsmare to charge. She cut down her surprised and off-balance assailant in a single smooth motion whilst parrying the hastily-drawn sword of the middle Raven with her other blade, only to be blinded by a flash gem that scorched her face. She was then knocked backwards into her desk by a powerful strike from the Raven's scimitar; one that severely scored her armor with an eruption of sparks that accompanied a painful screech of grinding metal.
My reprieve was once again short-lived as two more grey-dyed assassins then burst in at a hover, only to be quickly engaged by the stallion. A shock gem thrown at the ground beneath them caught them in a snare of searing sparks, causing their flight to falter and the pair to drop their crossbows.
Taking advantage of their brief paralysis, he immediately leapt forward to interpose himself between me and my assailants. Even as he moved to protect me, he launched another pair of throwing blades from a hidden pouch in his uniform, though only one found its mark, causing an eagless to shriek as it impaled her eye.
The other was blocked by a raised metal gauntlet as its owner faced off with the stallion in a contest of steel; the latter brandishing his wingblades whilst the former answered with his long and lethal scimitar. The Raven tiercel reared up and took a side stance, his blade grasped in both sets of talons from over his right shoulder and held diagonally across his chest; its tip pointed at his enemy.
He snarled something in Equish at the stallion, who responded with a flared-wing stance of his own and a very calmly delivered three-word reply in Aeric—“We shall see.”—before launching himself at his Raven opponent, engaging him in a blindingly fast blade duel that was terrifying in its intensity.
Despite their gruesome wounds, the two injured assassins were regaining their senses, grabbing for their weapons as the Guardsmare Commander likewise pulled herself back up despite her burned and bleeding face. She dove to dodge another crossbow bolt from the Raven that nearly blinded her, and then upended her desk as a pair of explosive crystals was thrown at her, splintering it with their detonations.
Shielded by the furniture, the armored pegasus mare was unharmed and sent the remains of the desk rocketing towards her assailant with a single powerful buck, forcing the eagless earth gryphon to dive away.
Using it as a cover and a means to close, she blasted forward with a single powerful wingbeat and cut down the two wounded Ravens before they could reach me or load another bolt, decapitating one and slashing the throat of the other with stunning speed. She then turned her attention to the uninjured eagless, engaging her blade to blade as the stallion had with his opponent.
Methinks I had barely started to hope I might yet survive given the skill of my protectors, but to my horror, the Raven was just as quick, rearing up to expertly parry the Guardmare’s wingblades with dual-wielded scimitars. Sparks flew from the rapid impacts of metal on metal as the pair twisted and turned in flight around each other despite the close quarters, neither able to land a finishing blow.
The stalemate lasted until the stallion took out his opponent with phenomenal skill, cutting off the Raven’s sword arm with his right wingblade whilst spinning to slash the tiercel’s throat with his left, all in a single fluid move almost too fast to follow. The odds now against her and her mission at risk of failure, the final remaining Raven leapt backwards from the armored mare, abandoning all pretense of stealth and subtlety to drop her swords and throw every crystal she had at us.
I screamed as the explosive gems detonated, covering my head in what I knew would be a useless gesture, only to realize I was unharmed. Shaking, I looked up to see… a translucent shield surrounding me and my protectors as the last Raven fell lifeless with an arrow through her heart.
The longbow that slew her fell to the floor with a clatter along with a gravely wounded Agent Artemis, who slumped down and passed out in the doorway she’d fired from. I only realized her state when her shield flickered out and a pool of blood formed beneath her barrel; its source being a crossbow bolt that had penetrated her chainmail and shattered her shoulder.
All then fell silent except for ragged breathing, distant shouts of rousted ponies, and the sound of my own squawking sobs. The terror and violence of the last few seconds finally catching up with me fully, I fainted hard, uncertain if I would ever awake again.
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Another great chapter.
I love this chapter! Firesight and Leo combined write action sequences that are nearly the equal of Kkat herself! Minus the... you know... soul-crushing despair.
On with the commentary, I say! 
Does anyone else imagine Denim_Blue inside a military compound writing stories about changelings? Or Sparity? (Cringe)
Either way, props to the griffies for having a badass name for their base.
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Barroom fighting is one of the least-disciplined least rehearsed, seat-of-the-pants events you can be involved in. Almost all of them end up on the floor, eliminating conventional martial arts as an effective defense. The best thing you can do is grab something hard, pray for the best luck possible, and whack everyone you don't recognize without spending more than a moment's notice on an eliminated target to make sure they're neutralized. I'd have to guess her approach involved situating herself at a table instead of the barstools and keeping her back to the wall. Granted, I can't exactly say how this would go down with the added insanity of flight and magic spells thrown in. You might lean more heavily on brains than brawn.
Where did that name come from? It makes me curious.
Oh dear. Something tells me it's monday where ever she is...
Maybe not, but that opening medieval sounding riff does sound great.
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Too easy? Yeah. It kinda is...
This all sounds... pretty brainwashy. And quite brilliant as a tactic. First-hand intelligence on the ground is the best tactical advantage you can have.
Can this get any more Monday? Blindside, brew up another pot of coffee. General Bullshit just arrived with reinforcements...
Fun fact: Artemis is the Goddess of Virginity in Greek mythology. This pony is also Five Stars' ancestor. Oh, the irony.
You were expecting James Bond technology? Not in this age of screw-the-military cutbacks. Thanks, Obama!
Oh screw you, Spy Lady! You give this jerk a fish and I get nothing? Expect a little something extra in the rain cloud over your house...
Cannot unsee Fallout Equestria. (Shudder) That mad scientist scene... *groan*
Nope!
Oh crap! It's the raptors!
--
It wasn't raptors. It was just Linky and Twinkleshine showing up to do running commentary on the epic fight scene.
Keep the heid! I'll pay fer the blasted windae! All ready, Twinkle?
Verily!
She's got tae be noticin' how everypony involved in this fiasco was a prisoner.
I know what you're thinking, but even today such a tactic of mind control would be extremely difficult for unicorn magic to accomplish. Back in the Dark Ages, and lacking first-person narration boxes, it would be unthinkable to pony minds that such a tactic could ever work. Particularly after a scan for intrusive magic produced negative results. I have to admit, I am a bit jealous about the raw power of Gryphon Magicks compared to our own back then...
Without a horn or anythin'? Seems so strange that such unmagical beings would develop such powerful magic.
It was either that or be wiped out by more powerful neighbors, honestly. And I wouldn't say they're 'unmagical' they just don't have the tools necessary attached to their brains.
I kin respect that. Discovered power is just as dangerous as innate power.
It's a hard decision fer anypony to make, but the rank and file must know there kin on'y be one punishment for treason and that is death!
She didn't kill them Linky! She just knocked them out. Honestly...
O' course. I knew tha'...
Ha! That's nothin' tae you, is it?
Well... it's easy enough to create electricity within a cloud matrix using magic, particularly if you're the odd unicorn weathermare trying and utterly failing to control the weather, but directed fire utilizing capacitor/insulator threading within your horn requires tremendous discipline and time to build a lethal charge. Sure, it's only three spells repeated sequentially, but it's not the kind of magic you teach ponies right after the Nightmare Wars.
Yeh're writin' all this down aren't ye?
Indeed! This is good intel on pegasus magic studies. They're magic is very difficult to combat given its more... abstract nature. It's a lot like earth pony magic, but lends itself much better to military purposes. Seems even they have to charge certain abilities.
Note fer all new readers: kill the unicorn first, then have pleasant conversation.
I hate to say it, but Linky's right. You can't corner a unicorn, and 'tis foolish to try. We'll just make you look like a foal.
Now, that's my kindae tactic! Enough head games, lets see some action!
Careless tactic. Either it was suicide, or her mates threw her life away.
Very bad form indeed. Might want to resort to explosives first and then start shooting ponies in the face. Just sayin'.
Ooooooh, ouch.
Yeah... That was pretty hardcore to save her shield magic for her comrades.
Just like Velvet Remedy...
Who?
Best unicorn healer in history. And the most heavily damaged...
Shit really got real...
That was the origin of awesome. Keep it up.
I have to say I liked the griffons having a backup plan on standby. It might not have worked but still kudos to them.
What's the best way to embed your agents in a hostile force? Capture loyal soldiers, brainwash them, and then return them back home with their new conditioning buried under their old personalities. It's almost impossible to defend against and sews confusion and mistrust among all their ranks. So while it's a barbaric method, one cannot doubt it's initial effectiveness.
*slow clap* So bravo, my dear Consul. You've found one of the holes in the Equestrian values of harmony.
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Glad you're enjoying it!
As was noted in the prologue, Firefly first appeared in part 65 of the Turnabout Storm novelization (which I wrote nearly the last third of) channeled by Maya Fey (a spirit medium if you're unfamiliar with her) when Phoenix Wright decided to get back at Rainbow Dash for a prank. Not content with that, Firefly chastised Rainbow Dash for wasting her potential and got challenged by Spitfire for claiming the modern-day Wonderbolts were unworthy of the group she founded. You can read that chapter here: http://www.fimfiction.net/story/6177/66/phoenix-wright---turnabout-storm/part-65---channel-change
Firefly next appeared in chapter 10 of The Lawyer and the Unicorn, channeled by Maya again when Celestia was reminiscing about her. She and Twilight were visiting Earth (temporarily transformed into humans) saying offhand that her old captain might enjoy watching The Lord of the Rings. "well, princess... who's to say you can't find out?" Maya asked, then channeled Firefly right then and there to Celestia's astonishment. 'Channelling' means in this case she takes Firefly's form, so she basically transformed right into her.
Firefly indeed watches the movie, then finds herself lost in memory and tells the others of her encounter with the alicorn amulet, reminded of it by the corrupting power of the One Ring. Originally, it was just a quick flashback scene but then we decided it--and she--deserved her own story, and Rise of Firefly was born.
If you want to check out her other appearances, The Lawyer and The Unicorn is an very M-rated-romance story, a crossover shipfic involving Phoenix Wright and Twilight Sparkle, a continuation of the Turnabout Storm novelization that introduced a romance between them. If you wish to read it, it is available through my story page, just be advised it's very adult. The chapters involving Firefly I'm actually quite proud of. She appears in three so far.
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Sorry... I got anxious to get this out and didn't want to wait.
But feel free to go through this and make any editing or others suggestions you want! And enjoy! 
Whelp like you told us last chapter the roller coaster reached the top of the climb and it's all downhill from here. It looks to be an excellent ride. I liked the small POV changes to the various griffons to give us a bit more context and a fuller view of what is going on.
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Thanks. This chapter is one of my favorites now, actually.
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Just goes to show I can write some very real shit!
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The Ravens were forced to move a bit more overtly than they like, and ran into two soldiers who were their match. You'll find out more about Swift Strike shortly. The aftermath of this one... well, all I'll say for now is, the ponies pretty much have to respond this time.
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And this is just the one you now know about... the Consul's preparations proceed on several fronts. He's brilliant, but he does one have critical flaw. He's very good at predicting actions and responses, but he's not perfect. His flaw is simple hubris; he's not quite as infallible as he thinks.
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Admittedly, the name in the song is 'Aiken Drum', but for the longest time, I thought it was 'Aching', since it's pronounced similarly in the song.
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Thank you kindly, sir! I look forward to Linky and Twinkleshine's commentary...
As opposed to the ponies, who went for Greek letters that probably came from their college fraternities.
Not really the story for it, though I've had at least one prereader suggest it, as you well know.
I'm sure Firefly likes it simply because it's fighting for fun and not a life or death struggle like she has now. You throw back a few ales, throw a few punches, get to smash up the place a bit, and then everypony's friends again the next day.
Leo'll have to answer that one.
It did, actually!
I'll let it pass.
Exactly. The best assassin or spy is the one who doesn't even know they're an assassin or spy.
Led by colonel cunt herself.
Well, to be fair, she's no less a manslayer now. She just uses a bow instead of batting her eyes.
If Obama led Equestria, he'd cut the military by a third, sign a treaty conceding half of Equestria to the Gryphons, call himself a peacemaker and claim that anyone who opposed him was a bloodthirsty warmonger and then go off to play a game of golf in the royal gardens while working on his buckball brackets and being interviewed by the Equestria Daily in various fluff pieces that only asked him how he got along being as dark-colored as Princess Luna.
Yeah, I'm cynical. But he's earned it.
Oh, but she gave Firefly so much more than a mere fish... things like ulcers and heartburn. :twilightangry:
I don't know it, and I don't want to know it.
Go for it, fillies!
She will, but not right away. Part of the reason the Ravens followed up so quickly was as distraction. Focus will now be on their attack and not the failed effort that preceded it.
The gryphons aren't bound by Equestrian magical ethics. That's rather liberating for them, actually... they can research things and do experiments Equestrians never would.
Quite true. Which gives them a definite disadvantage, since you can disable their magic by separating them from their tool. LotR got that much right.
You're scaring me, Linky.
The EIS isn't supposed to know that magic either, for the record. Fortunately and unfortunately, that's the least of things they're now doing behind Celestia's back.
Wartime lends itself well to research and advancement. In an era where fighting was far more common, it's only natural that such abilities were more prevalent.
Not every unicorn can teleport, but those who can can get very annoying... particularly when they're EIS agents you really don't want around.
Action aplenty ahead!
I agree, ladies. In hindsight, I don't think they'd be that clumsy or so wantonly sacrifice each other. So I've changed that scene now.
Is that from another story?
That amped up the Adrenaline factor substantially.
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Appreciate you saying so. I wasn't entirely certain they worked well or it was recognizable who was telling the story during the perspective shifts.
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Beer!
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So...who are you two exactly?
Furthermore, one does not simply ignore the BEST IDEA EVER!
6899498 Two of the side-characters I've written in my works based on the background ponies of the same name. Twinkleshine isn't really a fully fleshed out character to be honest. She's just kinda generically smart unicorn at the moment. They feature most prominently in the aborted Siege of Castle Harmony, an early failed attempt to write a long story. On a happier note, they featured in the modestly successful G4M clop/drama A Gentleman's Price. This is also where Linky became Scottish for... reasons.
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Well we aren't "bronies" without good reason.
The snowstorm denied the Gryphons the ability to ship. It's literal.
You shall not!
I need to develop an FoE horror scale for all the horrible things in there. So mad scientist scene would be like... a 6/10 on the FHS. Twilight's Library would be a 10... each sentence was an unrelenting hell.
Fluttershy's hut would be a 9. Then there was the stable that was run by the computer... that's a 10 too. 
600,000 words of well-written, beautifully executed PTSD. 
Ahh. Sorry, I didn't mean to imply that all unicorns can teleport. I was saying that the well-trained unicorns that need to be eliminated quickly to deny the enemy the use of their vast range of offensive and support abilities.
Do you even have to ask?
cdn-img.fimfiction.net/story/fuca-1432496101-119190-full
She's their unicorn/healer/Littlepip lesbian love interest that gets the plot going/raid member who stands in the bad in FoE.
Edit: Actually, bump the Stable run by the computer up to an 11. I damn seriously considered calling it quits when Littlepip started learning what happened there...
6899102 Aha! The Drunken Rat came from there too. God bless all irish/scottish accents.
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mmmmm and I read it twice already, once online (pre-registration) and once via physical book form
6900606 Only once for me. I wasn't quite ready for that.
I don't just don't have the bent for grimdark. Really don't have the bent for grimdark with adorable ponies. I will give it one last readthrough so I can leave commentary on it and find closure from my traumatic ordeal. My first readthrough was the link from Equestria Daily before it was published here on fimfiction. As serendipity would have it, it was the first fanfiction I ever read. And oh what a fanfiction it was... I knew nothing of Fallout, followed a link from a steam mod forum for Civilization V and saw a link from some guy. What's a new brony to do but follow a link from a nice man on the internet in a forum for a brony mod?
It really is a truly great piece of writing, probably the best story connected to the brony fandom! It's just arrrrgggh! And not in the pirate way either...
Edit: You actually bought it? That's hardcore man.
s2.quickmeme.com/img/33/338ae9b86f4c70c94bf80d9f6b6e920ec2b66a36d5f3374455428af86d2dd4aa.jpg
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I ran across it on a blind search and noticed it had ties to Fallout 3, a game I have spent a few hundred hours playing and utterly enjoy. I was very happy to buy a copy of the book as well, and Pink Eyes (waiting for Project: Horizons to finish so it can get in the pipe)
Oh the length this had gone through, and still going strong! Next chapter here I come!
Due to the heavily-edited nature of this chapter, and by Firesight's request, Linky and Twinkleshine are back to examine the newly revised chapter 10 fight scene!
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Once Linky finishes eating her carrot.
Fu' the noo. (burp) Okay, chapter ten point two; gimmae yehr best shot!
My Little Barbarian!
Up yehr kilt!
Intaeresting! Seems our feathered friends took the victim as the highest value target.
What's interesting about that? Seems pretty mundane, actually.
They dinnae take the defense into account. They're the ones you worry about if yeh want to live!
True, but they can't see through walls. It's entirely feasible the attackers didn't expect such a vigorous resistance. And in such a case, even if they fail to overcome the defense, they've still achieved their mission.
But they could see through the windae!
Swift strike was in the corner by the window! No doubt the lead griffin was to eliminate the primary objective and the others would hit the rest of the room if the griffins were stacked up behind the wall out of range of the explosion.
That was pure dead brilliant! Yehr absolutely right! You win this round, Twinkle.
.
Swift deserves a medal for that one. Any less than two deflections and they're dead. Very clean defense.
Firefly even had the wherewithal to foul the remaining griffins shot with her desk. Knowing me, I'd have wasted the chair toss on one of the other two. That would be so awkward!
Hay, I'dae just thrown the entire desk at him from the start!
I've had worse...
Yeh have not!
I'd have done the same thing! I'd probably be crying to, like a young foal!
There is no crying in this game, Missy!
Yeh nailed it! The Griffins went in teh do the job cleanly, got desperate, and went fer a last-ditch gamble.
No logical issues I can find here.
Holy throne, that was intense! A war in the shadows....
Just because it came to my head in that very moment doesn't mean you get to question me!
Oh. Oh god.
Well. That's very cool.
Very interesting.
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Obligatory, I guess!
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Definitely not the work of God, but of a strategically brilliant (and at times, completely amoral) mind.
You'll find out more about this in the next couple chapters, and heaven help the Gryphons when the ponies uncover the truth and the ire of a certain princess is raised... 
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It had to mean something! Kudos to Leo Archon for coming up with this idea.
This is the worsdt possible outcome for the Griffons since they've just confirmed that the captive holds valuable information or at least that they are worried enough to launch this action.
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You are correct on all counts. Though the better question at this point is what the ponies will do after this raid. By using Ravens, they’ve made it clear this is an Empire-sanctioned military operation; not something like a Raider attack they can plausibly deny responsibility for. An act of war, so how will the ponies respond...?
Video link for "Unwelcome Guests" is broken.
Are they canon or something? I'm sure I saw this abbreviation in several different fanfics done by different people to think about it as a coincidence.
Indeed shit got real. The Raven failed specifically big time. Love to see the Empire break out in cold sweat soon enough.
Artist and warrior saved, neat!
The soundtrack i recommend for the Raven attack:
EIS - german for ice lol, so they are a bunch of ice cold pony spooks hehe
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The EIS is not canon; it’s my own invention. The only time we ever saw even a hint of any sort of Equestrian spook service was in the 100th episode where
BonbonAgent Sweetie Drops said she was a secret agent for a special anti-monster agency.11133985
You might say they’ll reap the whirlwind soon enough!
A future one, anyway...
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Superb. I’m gonna use that one.
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I wasn’t aware of that!
But that just means it works even better, because yes, they very much are.