• Published 4th Aug 2015
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Before the Storm: The Rise of Firefly - Firesight



Before the Wonderbolts, there were the Bolt Knights. And before Rainbow Dash, there was Firefly. The story of Rainbow Dash's ancestor, the origin of the Wonderbolts, and the coming of the Great Pony/Gryphon War.

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Interlude #2, Part 2: Thunderstruck

To the readers, I regret I have been remiss. ’Twas pointed out to me that I said very little about my family in the last chapter, describing neither my parents or siblings, speaking not their names or saying anything about them but that they were workers at the Cloudsdale weather factory.

’Tis a reason for that, and like so much of my story, ’tis not a happy one. For now, be assured that I love and cherish them, and appreciated their willingness to stand by and support me even when I was at my lowest and most belligerent points. I would not have gotten to where I did without them, knowing that they were there for me, no matter how much I tried to tell myself growing up that they were part of the problem and I didn’t need them. In the end, they sacrificed much for me, and set an example I now try to follow with my own herd and foals.

But that part of my story cannot be told yet. What can be told over the next two chapters is the tale of my attempts to join the Corps, my first deployment, my deepening friendship with Thunderbolt… and my first time in combat.

First Lieutenant Fell Flight (ret.)
Thestral Emissary
Thestral Conclave, Canterlot


’Twas but half a day after Thunderbolt’s arrival that my parents, aunts, and I were boarding an air chariot chartered by the former Lieutenant. My entire family had insisted on coming, even taking unpaid leave from the weather factory to be there, determined to stand by me in my hour of need. ’Twas certain that only made me feel even worse; that I had just been one endless disappointment after another to them, and that my eyes were hurting them as well.

The trip to Canterlot covered five hundred miles and took nearly four hours, well out of the flying range of most pegasi. ‘Twasn’t long before evening that we arrived in the great capital city.

Dressed in his Corps uniform again, Thunderbolt led us through the crowded streets, stopping here and there to greet the occasional noble that crossed our path. To my relief, such encounters were rare, and all of them only acknowledged Thunderbolt’s presence, not even sparing a glance for my family and I. Whether ’twas due to military protocol or simple Canterlotian snobbery I knew not, but it did not seem to bode well.

Thunderbolt led us to a complex whose buildings were emblazoned with the Corps insignia, decorated in the blue and white hues of the ponies that served in it. He was met at the door by an older mare who wore the four stripes of a Flight Sergeant, who saluted him. “Lieutenant Thunderbolt! ’Tis a surprise to see you, sir! Are you here to re-instate your commission?” she asked him, almost hopefully.

“No, Flight Sergeant,” he replied, returning her salute with a slightly wan smile. “I’m here to get some answers on behalf of a trainee.” He nodded back at me.

The Flight Sergeant, to her credit, didn’t blink on seeing my shaded eyes. She did, however, look uncomfortable. “Ah… is that the young lady with the… odd eyes?”

Thunderbolt frowned. “And how wouldst you know about that?”

The doorkeeper bit her lip. “Well… I overheard General Squall Line talking to some of the other brass about her. He seemed… amused that anypony with thestral blood would try to become part of the military.”

Thunderbolt’s lips pursed and his eyes went narrow for a moment. “I see. ’Twould seem we need to go straight to the top, then,” he announced shortly as he led my parents and I inside, saluting various Corps ponies that he passed on his way to our eventual destination. He was saluted by others in turn, and I heard some of the sentries breaking protocol to whisper about his presence. He was apparently well-known to the Corps brass, and I couldn’t help but wonder why. Did it have something to do with that story he told me…?

We eventually reached a set of wooden double doors, the lower-ranked sentry mares outside the door snapping to attention and saluting Thunderbolt, who replied with a perfunctory one. “With apologies, Lieutenant, the General left orders not to be disturbed,” she informed him with a slightly nervous air.

“Well, then he’s going to be disappointed, isn’t he?” Thunderbolt replied, his tone making clear he wanted the door opened immediately.

With a glance at her comrade, the higher ranked sentry opened the doors slightly. “Sir, you have some visitors,” she said hesitantly to the pony inside.

“Visitors?” replied a gruff, stern stallion’s voice. “I said I was busy. Who is calling on me against orders?”

Thunderbolt didn’t wait for an introduction, pushing the door open himself and marching inside. “’Tis been a long time, General Squall Line,” Thunderbolt said as he saluted, the barest hint of an edge to his voice. “Congratulations on being named head of the Aerial Corps,” he added with a smile that did not reach his eyes. His voice was neutral, but I could have sworn I caught a note of disgust buried deep within it.

Sitting at the rather ornate desk in the large office room was a dark grey pegasus with a brilliant gold mane, dressed in a Corps general’s uniform, dark blue with white trim and his rank stars prominent. He looked surprised to see Thunderbolt, although that surprise quickly turned into a wary, equally forced smile. “Lieutenant Thunderbolt! ’Tis quite unexpected that you wouldst come here. I thought you said you were done with the Corps?”

“I did, and I am,” Thunderbolt replied, waving my family and I inside. “I’m here today on this young mare’s behalf,” he continued, prompting me to remove my shaded spectacles. “She would be a fine addition to the Corps, but there seems to be some… reluctance to accept her. Or give her a procedure that would allow her the day vision necessary.”

The General, to his credit, did not change his facial expression one bit, although I saw a shadow pass over his eyes. “Ah… this would be Miss Fell Flight, then?”

“I am,” I spoke up, standing at attention as I’d been taught to do in basic. “And I wish to serve, sir!”

“Do you, now?” he asked me, his eyes flitting from me to my assembled family behind me, their presence perchance preventing him from saying things less tactfully or throwing me and the Lieutenant out on the spot.

“Sir, yes sir!” I said again.

“General, please. Our daughter needs this,” my mother, Evening Breeze, stepped forward beside me. “She is a good mare, and we’ve raised her as best we can, but her eyes have made life difficult for her and there are simply some things we cannot provide for her. We believe that the Corps can give her the outlets and sense of purpose she needs.”

“Outlets?” the General echoed as if he could read between the lines. “In other words, she was a problem foal who got into plenty of fights and had trouble getting along with other ponies?” he paraphrased with the air of a stallion who had such a foal of his own.

“I think ‘twould be more appropriate to say that other ponies did not get along with her, sir,” my sire spoke next. “I am Dry Line, a weather specialist at the Cloudsdale weather factory. My mares and I have always worked there; none of our foals have ever wanted to join the military before. As Evening Breeze said, we’ve provided for her as best we can, but ’tis now clear to us she will never be happy in Cloudsdale or in our line of work. We feel that the Corps can do for her what civilian life can’t—give her a place she can be accepted and a chance to make a difference whilst being free from prejudice. At least, ’twas the impression given her by the Corps’ motto: ‘all are equal’,” he pointed out mildly.

The general chose his next words carefully. “Indeed, all are equal in the Corps. And yes, your daughter is exceptionally talented, to judge by the fact that Sergeant Major Rolling Thunder made an appeal on her behalf,” Squall Line replied, moving some scrolls around on his desk to reveal a separate set that were bound together by cord. “’Tis true that she must have made quite an impression on him if a longtime trainer with high standards was willing to vouch for her.

“However, with the idea that ‘all are equal’ in mind, I cannot give special treatment to anypony, Miss Flight. Your eyes are simply a liability the Corps cannot afford. I am sorry to be so blunt, but your abnormal vision renders you physically unfit to serve.”

“In one singular aspect, General,” Thunderbolt pointed out. “From what I hear, ’tis only her eyes that gives her trouble, and even then, only when out for extended periods during the day. In all other areas of health, she is perfectly fit and even excels.”

“I do not dispute that,” conceded the general, looking increasingly annoyed. “However, that doesn’t change the fact that Miss Flight cannot safely remain in the daylight for more than a few hours at a time without protection. And attacks from Equestria’s enemies do not adhere to a schedule!”

“But Flight Sergeant Panacea had a remedy for that!” I protested. “An operation that could— “

“Ah, yes, this ‘crystal lens implant’,” Squall Line interrupted, flipping through the scrolls. “Quite frankly, it sounds like a pipe dream to me. The tales of this so-called Crystal Empire are fantastical and oft unsubstantiated. I fail to see why I should spend the Corps’ resources on an experimental procedure based on what may well be a fairy tale. I am on a budget, and ’tis unlikely the Equestrian Council for Military Affairs would look kindly upon such an extravagant expenditure for a single soldier.”

“Sir, if the question is one of simple bits… then we would be willing to pay for it,” my father motioned to my mother and the other mares of his herd, who all nodded in agreement, causing me to break bearing and look back in shock. ’Twas the first I’d heard that offer, and it greatly touched me. They smiled at me in response, and I vowed to give each of them a huge hug when we were alone. “If ‘twould allow our daughter to serve as she wishes to, then we offer up our own savings to that end.”

Squall Line looked startled; he apparently hadn’t considered that others would be willing to pay for the expenses of the procedure. Still, he was not going to give in that easily. “With respect, Mister Dry Line and Mrs. Evening Breeze, ’tis not just a question of expense. The fact remains that this so-called solution is theoretical at best, based on unsubstantiated stories and hearsay. I am no healer or unicorn, but ’tis likely they would say that attempting such a thing could just as easily blind her as cure her. Are you really willing to risk your vision, Miss Flight?” He addressed me directly.

“If it means a chance at serving… yes sir!” I proclaimed without hesitation, my parents and herdmate aunts stepping forward to stand at my side.

“Sir, if the Corps is unwilling, we will pursue this procedure for her ourselves. If so, wouldst you allow her to enlist if she can then pass the eye exams?” my sire prompted.

Squall Line clearly didn’t like the bind he was being placed under, and I again had the impression that were it not for the presence of my parents and herd, he would have had us ejected long earlier. “Well, that would be… helpful…” he qualified somewhat grudgingly. “But…”

“But, what?” I couldn’t stop myself from speaking up despite Thunderbolt’s warning glance. “But, you don’t trust me? Is that it?” I challenged, allowing a note of bitterness in my voice as I saw the general’s jaw set, betraying his feelings. “I’ve seen exactly one thestral in my life, sir, and part of the reason I’m here is she rejected me as a ‘half-breed’. I want to be here! Please sir, I want to belong somewhere!” I stepped forward to plead, tears in my eyes.

“Trainee…” he began, but I cut him off again.

“The Corps motto is supposed to be ‘all are equal’, sir! If I can pass the same tests, then why doesn’t that apply to me?”

“Why indeed?” Thunderbolt asked rhetorically, gently but insistently pulling me back. “Mister Line, Mrs. Breeze, honored guests. I respectfully request you please leave the room. Though I’m sure you all have much more to say at this point, I believe ’twould be more fruitful for me to speak with the General alone,” he announced with a polite bow and thin smile. Reluctantly, my herd agreed, though they all looked angry at the turn of events.

“Not you, Fell Flight. Please stay,” the Lieutenant called to me as I turned to leave. Though surprised, I did so as he added, “We may have need for a witness shortly.”

As soon as the door was closed, Squall Line’s demeanor changed instantly, dropping the veneer of politeness he was holding for the sake of my family. “You don’t give orders here, Lieutenant!” was the first thing he said, glaring at Thunderbolt whilst ignoring me. “And I do not appreciate you trying to guilt me into letting her join!”

Thunderbolt smirked. “I’m sorry. I forgot. You’re incapable of feeling guilt,” he stated almost sweetly, dropping his own veneer of politeness as well.

“Don’t start,” the general growled, sounding like a nerve had been touched.

Thunderbolt’s lip curled. “With all due respect, sir, I haven’t even begun to start. And I won’t if I get the answer I want. There is no good reason to keep her from the Corps. Her eye issues can be overcome. If she undergoes the procedure and passes the vision tests, she should be allowed in. She’s passed every other test and even gained the recognition of Rolling Thunder himself. His opinion alone should sway you!”

“She is a bat-pony!” he pointed out if it was self-evident. “Untrustworthy and predatory! Servants of the Nightmare herself who might turn on us at any time!”

“What?” I fell open-mouthed.

“You heard me! And I’m not about to let a potential sleeper agent or security risk join the Corps!” he looked at me in now-open contempt. “My decision is final and you’ve taken enough of my time! Now get out of my office, Lieutenant! And take this Luna-damned bat-pony with you!” he made a dismissive motion, pulling a bell which summoned his sentries. “Get out, or be thrown out!”

“No, sir.” He stood his ground, giving me a glance which told me to do the same, ignoring the sentries which had just entered, staring at him warily as they perchance knew his reputation. “I obeyed your orders once, and lost everything for it. I am not going to let you make another error in judgement that would ruin yet another promising young life.”

Squall Line recoiled as if he’d been slapped. “How dare you…”

“I dare. Sir,” Thunderbolt replied in clipped tones; his eyes now had a look at them I’d only seen on them when he’d set me straight in his office nearly eight years earlier. “I knew you were making a mistake then, and I know you’re making one now. The difference is that this time, I’m stopping you before anypony else suffers for it.”

With that, Squall Line got up from behind his desk and stalked around to the other side, going nose to nose with his former subordinate. “Leave us,” he ordered the sentries, who instantly departed, waiting until the door had closed before them before speaking again. “They were my friends too, Lieutenant. You think I don’t remember them? You think I don’t mourn them? You think I don’t regret what happened every day of my life?” he brought his hoof down hard.

I wasn’t sure what was happening, but Thunderbolt didn’t back down, gaining a bitter smirk. “Methinks you weren’t there and didn’t have to see the results of your own idiotic orders, sir. Methinks you didn’t have to watch them all die, knowing how needless it all was and that you couldn’t save them!” he fired back, each sentence impacting on the general like a lightning bolt to judge by his flinches. “And methinks the only reason you kept your career and have your position now is because certain facts were kept from public view… sir.” He all but hissed out the last word.

“Enough!” The general flared his dark grey wings in his display that made clear he was not only angry, but larger than Thunderbolt, showing off his storm cloud cutie mark. “And methinks I’ve indulged you for far too long, Lieutenant! I did everything I could to atone for what happened, and I’ve fought the gryphons plenty of times myself! So don’t you dare imply I’m a coward or desk officer who hasn’t seen death or combat! My medals and post were earned! And unlike you, I faced my grief and stayed in the Corps afterwards!” he announced with bared teeth, his last sentence causing Thunderbolt’s lip to twitch. “If you have a problem with me, perchance ’tis time we settle it as we should have all those years ago! So, wouldst you care to step outside, Lieutenant?” he issued the fateful words of challenge. “Care to go blade to blade? Or have you been out of the Corps so long you’ve forgotten how to fight?” he goaded.

Thunderbolt smirked. “Very well, sir. By all means, let us battle. But as I am the aggrieved party, I get to choose the terms of the duel.” He then took on a predatory grin I could only call evil, lowering his head and bearing his teeth in turn. “I choose storm clouds at fifty paces. Care to test your luck and aim… sir?”

I had no idea the significance of such a choice, but the general went deathly pale. “Well, that is, I…” he all but stammered, glancing at Thunderbolt’s jagged lightning cutie mark.

“Methinks that won’t be necessary, Thunderbolt,” came a new male voice from the doorway, which had opened again without any of us hearing. “I heard you were here, Lieutenant, so I thought I would say hello. And meet the trainee that’s apparently been causing so much consternation of late.” Its owner turned his eyes on me, sizing me up.

That broke the spell as the pair stared at the newcomer, a very powerful-looking slate-blue pegasus stallion with a wingblade cutie mark who was dressed in a Corps headquarters uniform. “Sky Sergeant Windshear,” Thunderbolt nodded with a glance at his shoulder stripes. “Congratulations on your latest promotion. ’Tis true, then, that you’re no longer training the hatchlings at Fort Stratus?”

He nodded shortly. “Aye. At my own request, they’re naming me commander of Outpost Alpha after a brief stint at headquarters,” he explained. “I felt my frontline skills were weakening from disuse and I needed to be out in the field again. So I requested reassignment and turned over my responsibilities at Stratus to Rolling Thunder, who wasn’t happy behind a desk and wanted to get back in the training game. And he told me about Miss Fell Flight, here. ’Twould appear I departed one class too early, or I might have had the pleasure of training her myself.”

Thunderbolt grinned, greeting the Sky Sergeant like an old friend. “Well, I’m glad you’re here then. Because this is her and I would very much like her to be accepted in the Corps. Except the General is strangely reluctant to take her. I was about to try to convince him.”

“I see,” the new stallion said, his tone and expression neutral as he recognized the pair were still on the verge of a duel. “Sir, with your permission…?” he motioned with his head towards me.

“By all means…” the still-slightly ashen cheeked general invited, perchance eager to dodge the duel he himself had initiated.

With that, the Sky Sergeant went up to me and began to circle me, inspecting me closely. There was an intensity and purpose in his gaze and presence that Rolling Thunder had lacked, and something about him made me shiver internally. Whoever he was, I instinctively sensed he was every bit the warrior that Thunderbolt was… and he was now somehow judging whether I was worthy of being one myself.

A sense that only grew as he stepped in front of me, his pegasus eyes boring into my thestral ones. ’Twas all I could do not to flinch away as he finally spoke, his voice hard and expression flinty like he was back in drill sergeant mode again. “So tell me, trainee… why do you want to join my Corps?” he asked imperiously.

I knew I was being tested, and gave the ritual answer. “Sir, to serve and protect Equestria, sir!”

He sneered and moved closer, his nose now an inch from mine. “Don’t feed me that load of horse manure, trainee! I asked you a question, and I’ll ask it again: Why does a bat-pony want to join the Equestrian Aerial Corps?” he challenged me.

With that, I realized that giving stock answers wasn’t going to work here. He wanted honest ones, and if I didn’t give them, I could kiss any chance of joining the Corps goodbye. Neither Thunderbolt nor anypony else could help me here; my future now hinged on the answer I gave.

In the end, I gave the only reply I could; the only answer that flew at all for me. “Sir, because I want to be accepted and belong somewhere, sir!” I told him. “I want to join because the Corps is supposed to judge ponies on their merits, not their past or appearance, sir!”

A slight crook of the lip told me I’d given a good answer, but then he sneered again. “Really. And what ‘merits’ do you offer, trainee?” he quickly followed up. “What merit is there in a soldier who can’t fight during the day?”

I gave the answer I’d been saving for just this moment. “Sir, I can fight at night, sir! And far more effectively than most pegasi!” I instantly shouted back. “I can see at night as clear as day, sir! And I’ve heard the gryphons prefer night raids anyway, sir!”

That seemed to catch him and General Squall Line short. “’Tis true…” Windshear acknowledged. “A valid point. Then tell me this, trainee. Are you willing to fight?”

What kind of question was that? If I wanted to join the Corps, ’twas certain I was more than willing to, right? But I kept the thought to myself as I answered. “Sir, yes sir!”

“And what about kill?” he followed up. “If ordered to, can you take a life?”

Again, ’twas a stupid question, I thought, and something I’d already done when I hunted. “Sir, the ability to hunt and kill is in my blood, sir!”

But far from being reassured, the Sky Sergeant frowned, whilst Thunderbolt grimaced and Squall Line made a disgusted face. “Trainee, I am not asking if you can hunt and fish like other thestrals! I am asking if you wouldst be willing to kill another sapient being! Someone who can walk, talk, reason, and may have friends and family! I am asking whether you can take the life of an enemy soldier or raider!” he clarified with strained patience. “In short, I am asking whether you can kill on behalf of Equestria! So out with it! Is the answer yes, or no?”

For the first time, that caught me short, and I finally understood what he was getting at. ’Twas something I hadn’t really thought about, that killing in combat would be far different from hunting the occasional rabbit at the edge of the Everfree. “Sir, I…” I stammered, having no immediate answer.

“You’re hesitating, trainee,” he pointed out, instantly noting my confused appearance. “Methinks you’re not sure.”

“But…” I was now at a complete loss as I sensed my tenuous hopes slipping away again, and my agony was only worsened as he asked his next question.

“And suppose there was a rebellion and you were ordered to fight and kill other ponies. Suppose they were thestrals. Wouldst you?” He watched my reaction carefully.

My mind raced, but came up empty, and all I was left with was the undeniable truth. “Sir. No sir,” I slumped, defeated. “Though they rejected me, I am still one of them. I could no more kill them than other ponies.”

“And there you have it,” Squall Line smirked, triumphant. “She’s a bat-pony at heart, and that alone means she shouldn’t join!”

“Quite the contrary, sir,” Windshear stepped back from me, dropping instantly out of his drill sergeant persona; it startled me how he could seemingly turn it on and off like a firegem. “Had she immediately answered yes, I would have said she should not join. For lovers of death and killing have no place in the military,” he pointed out with a strange look at Thunderbolt, who for the first time looked away. “Nor should we accept soldiers who would so casually agree to target fellow Equestrians, regardless of their tribe. A warrior should always be reluctant. A warrior should always question themselves and their actions. And that she is and does means that she’s pony enough for me.”

With that, he turned to a speechless General Squall Line. “So you want my opinion, sir? Accept her. Methinks I’ve trained enough ponies to tell she’s got what it takes to be a good soldier. Even from this brief visit, I see the makings of a warrior within her, and ’tis certain to me she deserves the chance to prove herself.”

I stood up straighter again, marveling at the Sky Sergeant. “Th-thank you sir,” I stammered my gratitude.

He gave me a brief nod and smile, one that seemed would have cracked his face had he tried doing it whilst interrogating me. “And in any event sir, I would point out that were you to deny her based on her heritage alone, ‘twould not be in keeping with the Corps motto of ‘all are equal’. Nor would it be the first time you allowed personal feelings of bias or bigotry to influence a decision. And that if ’tis seen as a pattern, certain questions might be asked about your fitness for your post. Or your role in a certain past incident,” he suggested mildly.

The General’s jaw dropped open. “You wouldst not dare…”

“Try me. Sir.” Windshear suddenly wore as cold a look as Thunderbolt’s. “If you think not, I would remind you that the Lieutenant was not the only one who lost good friends that day. I would further point out that I interrupted a duel, and ’twould be seen as a mark of cowardice to back out of a challenge after it has been issued… an act unworthy of the Aerial Corps commanding general.” He gained a sly grin. “But methinks I might let it all pass… if you simply do the right thing and accept her. If you simply live up to the Corps motto of ‘all are equal’ and let her enlist after an eye procedure.”

“This is blackmail…” the General grated.

“This is justice,” Thunderbolt answered for him, unable to keep the grin off his face. “Thank you, Sky Sergeant.”

“My pleasure. ’Tis good to see you again, Lieutenant. Find my office before you leave, and we’ll chat,” he departed with a nod and salute.

“Count on it,” the Lieutenant replied, returning the salute. “Now then, General… I believe you have a few forms to sign…?”


We emerged five minutes later, with the General and Thunderbolt swearing me to secrecy as to what I’d witnessed in there. “’Tis between us, Fell Flight,” the latter told me. “Just some bad blood that never went away.”

Bewildered though I was at it, in the end, I got what I wanted. I was able to report success to my family, resulting in many tears and hugs. One of the latter was spared for Thunderbolt as well, who eventually came out with a signed permission scroll authorizing Corps healers to look at me and determine my suitability for crystal lens implants. They did so the very next day, running a range of eye tests on me and determining the extent of my thestral sight. They professed some grudging respect for my night vision, noting it was vastly superior to most pegasi.

’Twould turn out that the only possible pony to do the job was a retired Corps healer now in private practice, a unicorn eye specialist who had a clinic in Baltimare. She arrived in Cloudsdale five days later, delivered by a naval transport dirigible piloted by a Royal Navy airedale.

“Healer Iris Aid, at your service. ’Tis certain I have never gotten to examine the eyes of the thestral before,” the older mare with a violet coat, silver mane and spectacles cutie mark told me almost giddily as she examined me for the first time, giving me the same range of tests the Corps healers had all over again, plus a few additional ones she seemingly came up with on the fly. Her eccentricity aside, she, too, was very impressed by my night vision and ability to discern detail at distance in low light, and equally appalled by how much weaker it was during the day.

I’d never really noticed it outside of my exposure headaches, but in intense daylight my eyesight tended to get washed out in the middle distance, leaving me only able to see near objects clearly whilst everything further out melted into a hazy blur. I’d gotten so used to it I never realized anything was wrong, but it turned out I was missing a lot and the healer who had initially passed me for my pre-induction eye exam had perchance been taking pity on me… or was simply worried of incurring the wrath of Lieutenant Thunderbolt if she didn’t okay me.

Whatever the reason, Iris Aid seemed to take to her task like a foal to a new toy, displaying a childlike excitement at the problem I presented, considering me an intriguing challenge to meet. “I believe I can help you, Fell Flight,” she told me at the end of the first day, propping her head on her hoof as she studied me like an interesting lab specimen. “But methinks ’twould take me some time to come up with a working design, which I must return to Baltimare to create. Wouldst you be willing to visit me there…?” she asked hopefully.

With the Corps paying the expenses, the answer was yes, and I ended up flying for the first time on a military transport in the company of not just the airedale, but several veteran Corps ponies, who seemed quite wary of me at first. When asked why I was there, I told them the truth, and got startled reactions in response. But at least a couple of them seemed to take a genuine interest in me, and wished me luck as they were dropped off at Outpost Alpha on the gryphon border. “’Tis true the gryphons love to hit us at night. So if your night vision is as good as you say, methinks we could definitely use it,” one mare told me wanly, the flight stopping at the outpost just long enough to switch pilots and take on some supplies. I wasn’t allowed to do much more than stretch my legs and wings during the layover, though at least I got some dinner out of it from the outpost mess hall, bland though ’twas. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d find some opportunities to eat meat if I was stationed at one of these places.

’Twas evening as we departed again, and I found myself staring across the border bay into the deepening darkness of the northeast that marked gryphon territory, a place of wild weather and predatory warriors that the Corps kept at constant bay. I wondered what they would think of me, an at-least partially predatory pony…

I would get my answer eventually, and not like it at all.

* * * * *

We arrived at Baltimare not long after midnight, alighting at a Navy ‘base’ that consisted of four dilapidated airships, one of which appeared to be converted to a museum. I had a room reserved for me on base there, but I didn’t sleep despite two hours of tossing and turning, taking my leave and flying over the city at night, either due to anxiety or my thestral side perchance asserting itself. Needing to burn off some tension, I found an open pub instead and got myself a few drinks and later into a brawl with the earth pony dock workers.

To my great surprise, they accepted me as one of them afterwards—“Anypony who can fight like that is a pony worth knowing!” one stallion proclaimed after I’d clocked him, buying me a fresh drink and food; I was further stunned when he and a couple other colts showed interest in me as a mare. Uncertain what to think of that—’twas certainly a new experience for me given I’d never seen myself as desirable before—I thanked them for their hospitality and stayed with them until nearly sunup, after which I retreated to my room and waited for my appointment time to come.

’Twas scheduled for 11am, and I couldn’t remember any other wait seeming so long. But the appointed time finally came, and I was invited into Iris Aid’s opulent office, lined with bookshelves and framed pictures containing citation scrolls from healer school and her now-finished Corps career. Getting right down to business, she showed me a series of crystals of different types and sizes. She’d already treated them with light-dimming magic, and she demonstrated its effect—when she flashed the crystals with bright light, they instantly darkened, rapidly becoming opaque as the light level increased. My excitement was somewhat tempered, however, as they were somewhat slower to lose their opacity as the light level dropped again, and she warned me there were also ‘practical difficulties’ with bonding them to my eyes she hadn’t yet figured out.

“But let us not let such things stop us right now!” she told me with foal-like eagerness, leading me into her eye exam room, where she had prepared spectacles containing samples of the various crystal lenses to get some idea of the proper magic levels and what crystal type was most comfortable for me. The ruby reacted to light quickest, but cast a pinkish haze over everything and methinks I wasn’t interested in having what amounted to permanently rose-colored glasses. The opal was clearest and affected my perception of colors the least, but also slowest to react to light level changes. The sapphire fell in between on both categories, but would also turn my eyes from gold to green.

In the end, I left both heartened and disappointed. Perchance my hopes had been up too high; I’d been half-thinking that she would be able to give me the lenses right then and there. I was up against a deadline of sorts; in order to enlist for the next training class at Fort Stratus, I would have to pass all qualification exams at least two months before it began and missing that deadline meant another three months before the next class. “Be patient, my young friend!” she told me, not disheartened in the least. “You are a challenge, and one I relish. I will find you a solution. On that, I give you my word!”


In the end, I missed the deadline, staying in Baltimare for nearly two months, seeing Iris Aid several times a week. Each visit she had modified the design slightly; each visit she had something new for me to try. Not every change was an improvement, but I started to sense she was closing in on an answer. The sapphire variant seemed increasingly the best bet as she tweaked her magical treatments; I found that looking through such lenses—she had me wear them as spectacles during the day to test them—did me the most overall good in sunlight and affected me the least at night. It cast everything slightly blue, to be sure, but ’twas a color of night, and thus more comfortable to me.

The visit was fruitful in other ways, too. I found that the dock worker earth ponies, far more informal and friendly than the average pegasus, accepted me fully, even offering me some work for the short time I was there. Hating to remain idle or confined to the base, I accepted and made some additional bits for it, becoming a courier and helping them mount masts and rigging on new trade ships destined for overseas or the pony colonies in the Dolphin Islands. I even saw a zebra ship come in once or twice to sell some goods, though they had minimal interaction with us as our relations with them were far more strained.

To my great surprise, I even found myself with a romantic interest before long. A burly earth pony stallion named Topsail, who had been my favorite pub partner, became my first lover! He took me, to my delight, under the moonlight out on the docks, saying he wanted me to be as comfortable as possible and feel in my element, much as the docks were his. It worked, and in the end I couldn’t have asked for a better first time. When I asked him the next morning why he favored me of all mares, a part-thestral pegasus, he said that he found me exotic and far different than most pegasi, who tended to look down their noses at earth ponies and not interact with them at all. “Those stuck-up naval unicorns and pegasi don’t give us the time ’o day as a rule and ain’t any fun to be around. But you are!” He ruffled my regrowing mane.

I chuckled, but couldn’t help roll my eyes. Methinks I’d been anything but impressed with the Naval base I was billeted at, as the blueblooded pegasus soldiers and unicorn officers seemed more interested in the crease of their uniforms than the state of their ships. ’Twas true what I’d heard then; that the Navy was mostly used as a ferry service for real soldiers, and was where nobles enlisted to say they’d served without actually serving. I couldn’t imagine they’d be any good in actual combat and ’twas but one more reason I had no interest in joining them.

In any event, I left my room at the base after that and started bunking with Topsail the very next day.

Three weeks into my stay, Iris Aid found me at the pub I frequented late one evening and told me she’d made a breakthrough, apologizing for barging in but saying she couldn’t wait to show me.

With her tied-up mane bun and spectacles, she looked more than a little out of place in a rough-and-tumble dockworker bar, but she barely seemed to take notice of her surroundings as she cleared a table to show me her prototype, holding it up in her aura—a very thin sapphire crystal lens, fully bondable to my eye, treated to be both flexible and transparent except when filtering light.

“It would draw on your own internal magic to keep its spell going, so its magic will never need recasting! And it now changes opacity levels instantly! Look!” She flashed her horn at it, which caused spots in my vision, but also made the crystal instantly turn its natural deep blue shade, which I’d found least obtrusive of all her candidate crystals. “’Tis true it may turn your eyes green when filtering light, but ’tis a small price to pay!” she promised me as she turned her horn glow off, causing the lens color to fade back to near-perfect transparency almost instantly, only a weak hint of blue remaining.

She then demonstrated that it could change opacity to match current light levels, varying the intensity of her horn to show how the lens would turn varying shades of its natural blue hue in response. The other patrons stomped their hooves appreciatively when her demonstration was done, and I found I had tears in my eyes. Before me was, potentially, the answer to all my prayers, and green eyes seemed like a small price to pay for finally getting all I’d wanted. “When can I do this?” I asked her eagerly.

“Be patient, my young friend. The Corps bureaucracy will demand full accounting first and their healers would wish to examine these prototypes as well…”

“No! Do it now!” I exclaimed at her with a wing flare and hoof stomp, startling her before I regained control of my suddenly-surging emotions. “If at all possible, please do it now, ma’am. General Squall Line doesn’t want me in the Corps and may just sit on it. Or he’ll have the Corps healers pick at your design endlessly before deciding to reject it. But methinks if I return with them already implanted and working…”

She grinned slyly. “Methinks I like your thinking, young filly. Methinks that can be arranged… after all, my instructions were to ’determine your suitability’ for crystal lenses and come up with a working design. But what better way to find out if it works then by implanting them?” she chuckled. “I’ll happily bill the Corps for it afterwards and if General Squall Line complains, I’ll simply point to his own orders! So enjoy yourself tonight, my young friend, and come back to my office tomorrow at 10am! I’ll clear my schedule and have everything ready for you. But do try to get some sleep and be sure you have no more drink tonight or food after midnight, hm?” she waggled an admonishing hoof at me. “’Tis important you abstain, young filly. The sedation magic doesn’t take well to such things in your system.”

Though ’twas certain I’d been looking forward to getting a bit soused at that point in celebration, the dock worker mares and stallions told me they’d buy me all the drink I wanted afterwards. In the end, I had but a single ale and sang drinking songs the earth ponies had taught me, ending the night on a hopeful note with a couple wrestling matches with Topsail. Ones that soon turned into something far more than just friendly…

Sleep was a tall order that night, even in Topsail’s company. I was giddy, but ’twould be a lie to say I wasn’t also fearful. I had no love for Squall Line after my brief meeting with him, but his warning still echoed in my ears that the implants could just as easily blind me as fix me. There were no guarantees of anything for something like this, especially something so untried. Was the general right? Was Iris Aid as good as she said? Was her solution real, or just a moonlit mirage that would leave me worse off than before?

I shared my fears with Topsail, who listened and held me, promising he’d be there with me the whole time. “It’ll be fine, Fell Flight. That mare seems to know what she’s about. Reckon I do hate to see your eyes go green, though…” he told me, making a point of kissing them through my closed eyelids. “Gold suits you, filly.”

I snuggled closer to him at that, my heart feeling a warmth it never really had before. To have so many ponies there rooting for me, to have good friends and even a lover…

For the first time in my life, I felt like I was truly starting to find myself and my place.


The morning dawned cool and rainy as the local weather patrol gave the city a scheduled soaking.

Before heading over, I sent a letter via the naval dispatch office to Thunderbolt telling him what was happening. I asked him not to let Squall Line or my parents know until afterwards, explaining I didn’t want the former swooping in to block it or the latter to worry. I did feel a bit guilty about not telling my parents and the rest of my herd, but I just didn’t want to wait any longer. The die was cast and bets were made just as in the pub games I’d learned to play, and what would be would be.

Still, ’twas certain I had as much anxiety as anticipation when Iris Aid welcomed me. After I’d had a parting hug and kiss with Topsail, she led me to her procedure room, where two other unicorn healers awaited along with an array of magical implements, the new lenses floating in a magical stasis field that kept them sterile. We chatted for a while, discussing possible risks and complications, and she held my hoof for a minute as I laid back in the chair, trying to put me at ease. At first she’d just seen me as a particularly interesting patient, but something almost motherly had grown in her towards me over the course of the past several weeks. She genuinely cared about me, and it showed. At last, the time came. “Are you ready, Fell Flight?” she asked, and I nodded, if somewhat jerkily.

“Then here we go…” her horn glowed as she began to cast the sedation spell, my heart racing in spite of it.

“Be at peace, young filly…” she told me as the magic began to take effect and the edges of my vision began to close in, punctuating her statement by kissing me on the forehead. “You’re doing a brave thing and I will not fail you. Your new eyes await…” was the last thing I heard before darkness claimed me and my unaltered eyes closed for the final time.

Author's Note:

Well, it now appears that Fell Flight will have a three-chapter story arc. But that’s fine. As with all my writing, the story takes me where it needs to go and the characters tell me their stories as I write. Those of you hoping for some more action again are going to get it in spades next chapter as the story of the surgery aftermath, Fell Flight’s training, and her first time in battle is told. Let it be known that in writing the final section, I drew on my own experience for surgery three years ago when I got my jaw advanced to try to fix my severe obstructive sleep apnea.

The story will return to the present after this arc is complete, focus falling back on Firefly. I will write the chapter completing Fell Flight’s arc next, then go back to The Lawyer and The Unicorn and finish the trial scene there before returning here. But before all that... it’s Vegas time!!!!! On vacation in Sin City all next week, and I’ll be posting updates on my play to my blog as requested for those interested.

Thanks to my usual cabal of prereaders, including AJ_Aficionado, Denim_Blue, TheGoldCrow, and James CyberLink. Additional thanks to co-writer Leo Archon for writing a large chunk of the opening scene with Squall Line.

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